Chapter 23
TAYLOR
I wasn’t mad at him, I realized as I looked at my reflection in the bathroom mirror while I washed my hands.
How could I be? All the evening had proven was how much of a great guy Jack was.
And I couldn’t really be mad at Hannah either, even though it was obvious that she felt as though she had some kind of claim over Jack.
She couldn’t be more obvious with her effusive gushing about how wonderful he was, how much she relied on him, and how he dropped everything and changed his whole life just to be there for her.
But the woman was a widow, for crying out loud.
I’d have to be a pretty crappy person to be mad at her after everything she’d been through.
So I wasn’t mad at him, or her, exactly, but I sure as hell was mad at something.
Myself, probably, for getting my hopes up.
For making such an effort and looking so ridiculously overdressed for an evening that, it turned out, was a total bust. I’d thought Jack and I had a joke going about whether this was a date or not, but now I wasn’t so sure.
And for a woman fresh out of marriage who’d never really done the whole dating thing, it was all a bit too confusing.
Back at the bar, I joined the queue, humming along to the music while I waited.
‘Can I get another Nor’easter, please?’ I asked Fiona when it was my turn.
The place was pretty busy, the restaurant side nearly packed out, and a fair number of people standing around the bar as well.
There was music playing somewhere, and the hum of different conversations.
Laughter. The night was warm and the atmosphere pleasant, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of being alone and out of my depth.
She smiled. ‘Sure thing. How’s the non-date date going? It’s nice to see Jack looking so happy.’
‘We’re just friends.’
Her eyebrows shot up. ‘I’ve never dressed like that for a dinner with a friend before.’
‘I’m from New York. This is basically the city equivalent of wearing sweatpants.’
‘Mm, sure.’ She smiled knowingly.
‘Taylor?’
I swiveled my head. Dion was standing just behind me, eyes wide, his expression as he looked me up and down comically over the top, and very flattering.
He didn’t look too bad himself, in a pair of blue jeans and with a black shirt, his beard freshly groomed and hair damp. Clearly, he’d not long ago showered.
‘Hey, Dion.’
‘Damn,’ he growled, his tone appreciative. ‘You look incredible.’
‘Thanks.’
His eyes searched over my shoulder. ‘Are you here on your own?’
‘No, I came with Jack.’
He didn’t even bother to hide his disappointment, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. ‘Ah. Right.’
‘Not like that,’ I added, even though I wasn’t sure any more what that was.
He brightened. ‘Really? So I can buy you a drink without stepping on anyone’s toes?’
‘I can buy my own drink,’ I informed him. ‘And you shouldn’t talk about women like that. We don’t belong to anyone, so the whole stepping on someone’s toes by moving in on their turf thing, is just distasteful.’
He looked thoughtful as he processed my words, then nodded. ‘Noted. And I apologize. I didn’t mean to offend you.’
I smiled. ‘I know. That’s why I haven’t walked away yet.’
He grinned, back to his cocksureness. ‘Well, can I sit beside you while you drink the drink that you bought yourself? Is that allowed?’
I flicked a look back at the table. Hannah was still there; she and Jack had their heads together and looked deep in earnest conversation.
‘You know what?’ I said, facing Dion again. ‘Sure. You can join us.’
‘Us?’
‘Yeah, Me, Jack and Hannah.’ I gestured with a nod of my head. ‘We’ve already ordered, but if you’re hungry I’m sure the kitchen can add to the order, right, Fiona?’
‘I think we can manage that.’ Her expression was unreadable.
I knew what she was thinking. But as far as I was concerned, if it was OK for Hannah join us, surely Jack wouldn’t have a problem if Dion joined us too?
It would at least give me someone to talk to while Hannah tripped down memory lane with Jack.
But as we made our way back to the table, we heard raised voices, before Hannah suddenly stormed off.
It was too late to take back the invitation then though.
‘Dion,’ Jack said, his tone clipped. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘He’s joining us,’ I said, answering for him as I took my seat again, and Dion dragged an extra chair over, slotting it beside mine. ‘Is that OK?’
Jack’s eyes scrutinized mine, as if trying to figure out what game I was playing. But I wasn’t playing a game, I just wasn’t happy to sit there and be the third wheel while he and Hannah reminisced about the past.
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘Although, we’ve already ordered, so…’
‘Not a problem,’ Dion said cheerfully. ‘Fiona added my order onto yours at the bar. It might be a little delayed, but I’m all good with that. It’ll give Taylor more time to school me on my toxic, masculine ways.’
I laughed, as Jack looked understandably confused. ‘Are you here on your own, Dion?’ he asked abruptly. ‘You’re not meeting someone?’
‘Nah. I was planning on heading out to my sister’s for dinner, but decided to pop in here first for a drink.’
‘Shouldn’t you get going then, if Kate’s expecting you?’
Dion smiled at me. ‘I already messaged her and told her I got a better offer.’
‘You didn’t tell me you had plans already with your sister,’ I scolded him. ‘You should have said you were busy. I feel bad for stealing you away now.’
He shrugged. ‘Well don’t. She invites me to dinner at least three times a week.
’ He held up his hands. ‘I have magic hands, see. My niece, River, and nephew, Bodhi, are a handful. My brother-in-law is in real estate and works nights a lot. She likes it when I’m there because the kids don’t argue as much when I put them to bed, like they do with her. ’
He leaned closer, his lips near my ear. ‘My secret is to tickle them. The giggling wears them out and then they crash asleep quicker. Are you ticklish, Taylor?’
‘You’ll never know.’
His eyes sparkled with mischief. ‘I like a challenge.’
I felt the weight of Jack’s glare as Fiona approached our table with plates of food balanced delicately on her arms.
‘Scallops with angel hair pasta for you, Taylor,’ she said placing it down in front of me. It looked, and smelled, incredible.
She looked quizzically at Jack. ‘Where’s Hannah? I have her warm lamb salad.’
‘Upstairs.’
‘Is she coming back?’
‘Your guess is as good as mine.’
Dion dipped a fry into his aioli, oblivious to the tension. ‘If she doesn’t want her meal, I’ll have it.’
Jack sat back down, his eyes boring into mine.