10. Reed
Reed
“Move it, asshole!” a man yells from his car as I walk across the street.
Damn. I love Chicago. Every inch of the city vibrates with energy. There’s no silence. No downtime. It has a constant hum that makes me feel alive.
I stop in front of the building, glancing up at the sign hanging overhead. Hook & Hustle. I did a little research online before I left home, finding the name of Amelia’s family bar she told me about in Vegas. I’m almost certain she mentioned the name, but I never thought I’d need to remember it.
The building is solid brick, with large windows lining the exterior on both sides of the doorway. For the first time since I left South Dakota, my chest tightens when I think of all the possibilities.
Amelia has no idea I’m here. I told her the divorce paperwork was ready and that she’d have it in her hand soon. It was true, but she doesn’t know I’ll be the one giving it to her in person.
I crashed at my uncle’s place after a late-night flight. My plan was to be here when the bar opened, but I slept later than I wanted, throwing things off a bit. But thankfully, bars aren’t known for their early hours, which is so opposite to the life I lead back home.
I left my cowboy hat back at the apartment, not wanting to stick out in the sea of people. I went for a pair of my best jeans, a well-fitted black T-shirt, and regular boots. While I love my cowboy boots, they aren’t the best for walking miles on hard pavement.
You can do this. I shake out my hands like somehow that will rid me of the nervous energy coursing through my body. One deep breath and I reach for the handle, pulling open the door. I step inside the bar Amelia told me about. The one her family has owned for generations.
The interior is beautiful, with dark, rich wood everywhere—the floors, the walls. It’s bright inside, but that’s more about the giant windows and blazing sunshine outside than the overhead lighting.
I scan the crowd, looking for Amelia, but don’t see her.
“Can I help you?” a woman asks as she carries a tray of what looks like some amazing burgers.
“Is Amelia here?”
“Next door,” she says with a tick of her head. “She’s at the bakery.”
I’d completely forgotten about the bakery. I hadn’t even glanced at it when I’d walked across the street. I knew she worked at a bakery, but I didn’t know the name or location. I’d kept my focus on the bar when I’d decided I wanted to surprise her. Showing up at her house felt too…personal.
“Thanks,” I tell her, spinning on my heel and stalking out of the bar before I change my mind.
I’ve come this far. I can’t chicken out now.
Although I’m here to deliver divorce papers, I’m looking forward to seeing her.
Maybe we can stay in contact after this is all behind us.
I hope we will, at least. Over the last three months, we’ve become friends, getting to know each other better.
We don’t talk about anything too personal.
Keep things light. Something we’ve been good at since we first met.
I don’t stop in front of the bakery. I don’t take a moment to peek through the windows, trying to catch a glimpse of her.
I stride into the bakery, a chime going off as soon as the door opens.
My boots don’t make it three feet into the super-pretty space before Amelia rushes out from the back, looking as beautiful as ever.
“Oh. Hey,” she says, her body jolting forward like her feet have suddenly become superglued to the floor. “What are you doing here?”
“Way to make a guy feel wanted,” I tease as I walk to the countertop.
Maybe this wasn’t my smartest idea. Showing up out of nowhere without any warning typically doesn’t end well, but somehow, I convinced myself it was the best course of action.
Amelia gives me the same smile that sucked me in so many months ago. “I’m just surprised.” She stays behind the counter, her hands resting against the glass top. “You look….”
“Handsome. Delicious?” I say, finishing her sentence, wanting to lighten the mood.
“I was going to say good,” she says, her eyes not meeting mine.
The vibe is off. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to realize she isn’t exactly thrilled to see me.
I don’t know what I was thinking. In my mind, she’d be so happy to see me, she’d jump into my arms, and we’d pick up right where we left off. I’m a moron. The woman wanted a divorce, and so did I. We jumped into something while we weren’t in our right minds, and we didn’t even know each other.
I rub the back of my neck, hating this isn’t going how I’d hoped. “I came to visit my uncle and figured I’d surprise you. Surprise,” I say with a smile.
“How long are you staying?” she asks, her eyes moving to the windows behind me. Is she expecting someone?
“A few days.”
“Oh.”
“I thought we could catch up a bit. It’s been a while.”
“We texted yesterday,” she replies curtly.
“Damn, girl. We okay? I thought we were okay?”
“Do you have the paperwork?” she asks, not bothering to answer my question.
“It’s at my uncle’s. I didn’t want to carry it around if I didn’t find you.”
“You could’ve texted me that you were here, and I would’ve met you.”
“What fun is that?” I stare at her and she stares back. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”
“I am,” she says, but there’s no conviction in her words. “I just have a lot going on.”
“I won’t take up much of your time. I’m not here to see you. I don’t need to be entertained. I’m a big boy,” I tell her.
Clearly, I was delusional when I came up with this plan. In my head, she threw herself in my arms, and we spent the weekend in her bed. Just because we’re getting a divorce doesn’t mean we can’t pick up right where we left off.
“I know. I’m sorry.” She clears her throat, smoothing down the front of her cute-as-hell apron. “I’m sorry. I’m being rude. I am happy to see you.”
“You’re looking as hot as ever.”
She crushes the back of her hand across her forehead, leaving a smudge of flour. “I’m a mess.”
“It’s what I like best about you.”
She groans and rolls those beautiful eyes. “Stop being nice.”
“I am nice,” I tell her. “And if I can’t be nice to my wife—”
She shushes me and looks around. “Don’t say that.”
“I can only say that for a few more weeks. It rolls off the tongue pretty nicely, though, doesn’t it?”
“Someone might hear you.”
“You didn’t tell anyone?” I ask her. I shouldn’t be surprised. I didn’t want to tell anyone either…well, besides Jasper, because I needed his help. But of course my family figured it out because my siblings are relentless.
She shakes her head as her shoulders slump forward. “Not about the wedding,” she whispers.
“But you told them something about me?”
“A little.”
My chest puffs out because she told them something. That means she likes me, or at the very least, I left an impression on her.
“Let me take you to dinner tonight.”
I didn’t come hundreds of miles to spend only five minutes talking to Amelia at her job. I want some time away from the hustle and bustle of Vegas. We have things to talk about. Before she becomes my ex-wife, I want a sliver of alone time with her.
“I…” She pauses.
“Please,” I beg. “One night.”
“I already gave you one night, and look how that turned out.”
I smile, remembering very little but betting it was spectacular. “Our divorce is going better than some people’s marriages.”
Amelia laughs, looking more relaxed than she has since the moment her eyes landed on me. “One dinner and bring the paperwork.”
“You got it,” I tell her. It’s the entire reason I’m here. Sure, seeing her is the upside, but I am here to move to the final steps of ending the marriage neither one of us wanted when we were dared into our vows. “No Cassie or Lyra.”
Amelia snorts. “They’re living on the Northside.”
“And?”
“I don’t see them very often. Traffic is horrendous with all the construction going on. We won’t see them.”
“Do you want to have dinner next door?” I know the answer before I ask, but I couldn’t help myself.
“No,” she says quickly. “What are you in the mood for?”
“I can eat anything. You pick.”
“Do you like Chinese?”
I nod. “Love it.”
“Been to Chinatown?”
“No. There’s a Chinatown here?”
“What the hell do you do when you’re here if you don’t know about Chinatown?”
I shrug. “Obviously, all the things I shouldn’t. I like the beach, though. I go there as often as I can.”
“I’m sure you have lakes in North Dakota.”
“South Dakota,” I correct her. “We do, but none of them feel like this one. I almost forget I’m in a big city and not at the ocean.”
“I never go,” she admits. “I don’t know why, but I don’t even think about it.”
“You should. You’re missing out.”
“Meet me in Chinatown at seven.”
I scratch my beard, wishing I’d shaved before coming here. “I don’t know where it is. How about I pick you up instead?”
She eyes me suspiciously, and I’m ready for her to shoot me down. “Fine. Pick me up at seven, then.”
I tap the countertop, feeling happier than I have in a long time. “You got it, sweetheart.”
“You want any bakery items to go?” she asks, motioning to the case that’s overflowing with the most beautiful desserts.
I guess I’m getting the boot since she made sure to say to go. “I don’t know. Maybe.” I study the bakery case. Everything looks so damn good. “Did you make everything?”
“No. I don’t bake because we’d go out of business if anyone tasted my cooking.”
I peer up at her and laugh. “I’m a shit cook too, but I can grill.”
“That’s better than nothing. I’m pretty handy with a microwave,” she replies and points to the pastries. “But this, I could never do.”
“Do you buy all the baked goods already made?”
She clutches her chest like I’ve stuck a dagger into her heart. “No way. We have bakers who are here every day making the items from scratch.”
“I’ll take a few of your favorite items,” I tell her.
She slides open the case and bends over. As she pulls out the first cupcake, a woman walks out of the back, behind the counter. “Oh,” she says and stares at me. “I didn’t know anyone was here.”
“He was just leaving. I got him all set,” Amelia tells her.
“Okay, baby. I’m going to take off if you’re okay here,” the brown-haired woman says, staring at me.
“I’m fine, Auntie. He’s a friend.”
Her aunt’s eyebrows rise so damn high and so fast, I’m surprised they don’t fly right off her forehead. “I don’t think I’ve ever met you before.”
“I live out of state,” I tell her. “Name’s Reed.”
“Hi, Reed. I’m Amelia’s aunt. My name’s Tilly,” the woman says. “Do you want me to stay longer so you two can catch up?” She’s beautiful and sweet, dripping with Southern charm.
“No, he’s leaving,” Amelia tells her as she grabs another cupcake from the case and sets it in a box.
“We’re going to dinner later,” I add, my gaze moving back and forth between Tilly and Amelia.
“Oh, that’s great,” Tilly says. “I’m sure you have a lot to catch up on.”
“I figured as long as I’m in the big city, I might as well devour as much of the local cuisine as possible.”
“Where ya from?” Tilly asks.
“South Dakota.”
Her eyebrows shoot up again, and her gaze slides to Amelia. “Is he…”
Amelia shakes her head. “No.”
“Am I what?”
“Nothing,” Amelia snaps. “Don’t you have somewhere to go, Auntie?”
Tilly clears her throat. “Right. Your uncle is waiting for me, and he’s getting grumpy in his old age.”
“Was he ever not grumpy?” Amelia asks as she continues to fill up the box of goodies.
Tilly grabs her purse, which is near the register under the counter. “There was a point, but it was a long, long, long time ago.”
“Tell Uncle I said hi,” Amelia says to her aunt.
“Sure thing, sugar. If you need anything,” Tilly says to her, “you call me immediately. We’re always here for you. Be safe. Don’t overdo it today. Take some breaks and get off your feet.” Tilly kisses Amelia’s cheek before turning her gaze on me.
Is this neighborhood dangerous? I don’t like the idea of Amelia being in danger on a daily basis. Not that it is any of my business, but it still doesn’t sit right with me.
“I’m fine, Auntie. Don’t worry about me,” Amelia says with a nervous smile.
“Bye, Reed. Don’t be a stranger,” Tilly says before walking out the door.
“You okay?” I ask Amelia.
“Yeah. Why?”
“What your aunt said.”
Amelia waves her hand. “She’s just always worried about everyone. I’m good. There’s nothing wrong.”
But she doesn’t look at me when she says those words. Something deep in my gut says she’s lying. Is it any of my business? No. Will I do whatever I can to find out and see if I can help? Absofreakinglutely.