matthew
I stand here for a couple of seconds waiting to see if she is going to answer me, putting my hands in my pants pockets before I do something stupid like drag her away from here and anyone else who wants to look at her. She looks over at me. “Anthony and I are friends actually.” I smirk at her answer. The minute she agreed to meet me, I ran back in the room, gave two interviews that I rushed through, and ran out of the shower not even waiting to dry my hair. I tucked my tie in the jacket pocket and hightailed it to her. When I walked in, it took me two seconds to find her at the bar.
“Where is the girl?” I ask, looking around.
“She had to get home to her daughter,” she replies, and I’m even happier it’s just the two of us. I mean, I would have taken her any way I could.
“Here you are,” Anthony says, coming back over. He puts a white square napkin down on the bar before he places the glass of white wine in front of her. He smiles at her before he turns to look at me. “Can I get you anything to drink?” he asks.
“I’m good,” I tell him, instead of doing what I want to do and that is throat punch him. He nods at me before walking down the bar. “Should we grab a table?” I ask, looking around to see that most of the guys came out tonight. There are definitely more people who come out after a win than when we lose. It’s usually a hit or miss for me. If Sofia wasn’t here, I would have gone home, but nothing could have stopped me from talking to her.
“Yes.” She nods, grabbing her bag and holding her hand up for Anthony, who comes back over. He walks as if he’s on a catwalk, and if I thought I hated him before, I was wrong. “Can I get the bill?”
“I’ve got it,” I assure him. “We’re going to go to the table. I’ll settle up at the end.”
“No problem,” Anthony says. “Besides, that one was on me.”
Do you know those cartoons where you see the guy getting hit on the head with a frying pan over and over again until he sees stars? That’s what I think of when he says this.
“Aren’t you the sweetest?” Sofia plays with him, and I have to bite down. “Next time, it’s on me.”
Never going to happen, I almost say out loud, but instead I put my hand to her lower back, guiding her to a booth in the back of the restaurant. She slides into the booth, while I take off my suit jacket and toss it at the end of my side of the booth before sitting in front of her. I roll the sleeves of my shirt up to my elbows once I unbutton them.
“Have you eaten?” I ask while I look down at the menu that was placed on the table before we even sat down. We usually rent out the whole place so no one is coming up to us while we enjoy our meals.
“I ate a hot dog at the game,” she says, grabbing her glass of wine, “and a pretzel.” She takes a sip and looks around.
The server comes up to the table. “Hi, I’m Suzanna. Can I get you anything?”
“I’ll have the grilled salmon with steamed veggies,” I tell her, then glance at Sofia, who is now looking down at the menu.
“I’ll take a small house salad and a plate of fries.” She looks up, smiling at the server, who nods at her before turning back to me. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
“I’ll have a water,” I tell her, handing her my menu for her to take the hint and leave us alone. Ever since I walked in here and saw her, all I knew was I didn’t want to share her.
“Coming right up,” she chirps, walking away from us. I look back over at Sofia, who is still looking around.
“What are you doing?” I ask, turning my head and looking around, wondering if she saw someone she knew.
She finally looks back at me, tapping her finger on the base of her wineglass. “Is this going to be something they talk about tomorrow?” she asks, and my eyebrows pinch together because I have no fucking clue what she is talking about.
“I have no idea what you mean by that,” I say, leaning back on the booth and stretching my arms across the back.
“Well,” she says, grabbing her glass again, “not too long ago, you were engaged.” She brings the glass to her lips. “And I was your wedding planner,” she adds, right before she takes a sip to stop herself from talking.
“Things change.” That is the only thing I can say. I hadn’t really announced that the engagement was on. And if it wasn’t for Helena’s post on social media with a picture of the ring, no one would have caught wind of it.
“But do they?” She puts her glass down, and Suzanna comes over with the glass of water for me.
“They do,” I confirm, grabbing the glass and finishing half of it.
“Let me ask you something.” She looks me dead in the eyes, and for the life of me, I can’t remember a time I didn’t love her. Which is the strangest thing because I haven’t seen her in two years.
“You can ask me anything,” I tell her. Now it’s my turn to tap the table nervously.
“After we met the first time.” I tilt my head to the side. “Why did you come back?”
The pit of my stomach burns with this question. “I didn’t,” I finally say, “I wasn’t planning on it. Actually, the minute we walked out of the office, I turned and said we weren’t using you.” Her eyebrows go up at this declaration. “Helena told me at the last minute she booked you.”
“You didn’t try to convince her otherwise?” she asks the loaded question. It’s the same question Christopher asked me when I told him we were using Sofia. It will probably be the first question my cousins will ask me once they find out.
“I figured if I did.” I look around, not ready to admit the next part. “She would want to know why.”
Sofia’s eyes almost bulge out of their sockets. “So she didn’t know about me?”
“No.” I say the word and see the hurt in her eyes, right before she builds the wall back up, making my heart hurt. I want her to ask me why. I’m ready for her to ask me why. She might not be ready for it, but I am. Except she doesn’t ask me another question. Instead, she picks up her glass of wine and looks away from me as she takes two gulps.
I’m about to tell her why I never told Helena about her when Suzanna comes over with three plates. She places my plate in front of me, then the plate in front of Sofia, placing the plate of fries in the middle of the table. “Enjoy,” she says to us before walking away.
Sofia’s eyes stay glued to her plate of salad, grabbing the fork next to her as she tosses it around on the plate. I grab my own fork, flaking a piece of salmon away. We eat in silence as I ponder the questions I want to ask. I look up at her a couple of times and notice she isn’t even eating the salad. She’s just playing with it on her plate. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” She doesn’t look up at me, and although we haven’t been together in two years, I know that tone doesn’t mean nothing. It means she’s pissed. I used to always love it when she gave me this tone. I knew the fight would be worth it, because when we made up, it was electric.
“You sure aren’t acting like nothing is wrong,” I say, not sure if I should.
“I’m just a little bit annoyed and confused is all,” she finally declares. “You come to meet me, don’t want to use me, use me anyway, and never even mention to your fiancée that we knew each other.” She shakes her head. “Actually, forget it. I don’t even care, to be honest. It’s none of my business.” She takes a bite of her salad.
“Is that you asking me why I didn’t tell her about you?” I take a bite of my salmon, waiting for her to answer me.
“Not in the least. I don’t really care.” I know it’s a lie. She knows it’s a lie.
“Well, considering we didn’t just know each other…” I make sure she knows I hate the way that came out of her mouth. Her eyes now fly up to me. “I didn’t tell her about you because I wasn’t sure what to say.”
“I don’t know how your relationship worked.” She takes a sip of her wine. “Nor do I care, but you should always go with the truth.”
“I would never lie,” I tell her, grabbing a piece of carrot, “which is why I didn’t tell her about you.”
“That makes no sense.” She puts her glass down.
“Doesn’t it?” I take another bite of the salmon, just so my hands are busy doing something instead of being on the table tapping it. “If I told her about you, she would have had questions.” I look at Sofia. “Questions I would have had to answer.” I raise my eyebrows, wondering if she gets what I’m saying.
“How was I supposed to tell my fiancée that my wedding planner was the only woman I’ve ever loved?” She doesn’t say anything. “How do you think that conversation would have gone? Because she would have asked me if I still had feelings for you and the answer would have been yes.” She opens her mouth and closes it again, no words coming out. “How do you think that would have gone? ‘Helena, I think we should not go with white-and-black flowers because they look horrible.’” I grab another piece of salmon. “‘Oh, and by the way, did you know Sofia and I dated and lived together for two years?’” I shake my head, angry because maybe I should have said those words. “Are you dating anyone?” I say right before I pop the piece of salmon in my mouth, wanting to kick myself. Did I actually say those words out loud? Do I want to know the answer to this? One thousand percent. Am I ready for the answer? Absolutely not.
I avoid looking up at her, not sure I can handle it. “Yes,” she replies, her voice high and tight. I close my eyes as the answer sinks into my brain. The minute it does, a rage washes over me.
Suzanna comes over. “Are you finished?” she asks of my almost empty plate, and I nod my head.
“I’m done also,” Sofia says, pushing her plate to her, “and can we have the bill, please?”
“It’s all taken care of,” Suzanna relays. “Have a great night.”
Sofia grabs her purse from the seat and slides out of the bench. I guess this means we’re done.
“I’m done,” she announces as I grab my jacket in my hand and slide out to stand in front of her. “You don’t have to leave. I can see myself out.”
I don’t bother saying anything to her, instead I hold out my hand for her to walk ahead of me. I hold up my hand to a couple of the guys as I walk out. My hand itches to slip it into hers as we walk around the building and toward the back, where I see her car parked, but she’s one step ahead of me.
The sound of her shoes clicking is the only thing that makes noise. There isn’t even another car on the street. “This is me,” she says from the back of her car.
I stand in front of her. “How serious is it?” I tilt my head to the side, waiting for her to answer, hoping like everything that it isn’t.
“None of your business,” she retorts, her eyes staring straight into mine. I nod my head at her. “We are two friends having a conversation.” She throws my words back in my face. I smirk at her, always knowing those words would come back to bite me in the ass.
My whole body fills with nerves. I make sure my eyes never leave hers when I say the words, “The last thing I want is to be your friend and we both know it.”
She lowers her eyes just a second before looking back at me. “I know a couple of things.” She crosses her arms in front of her. “One, I didn’t want to be here but you didn’t give me a choice.” The lie comes out of her mouth so smoothly. We both know she didn’t have to come here tonight, but she did, and I don’t know who I’m going to owe that she is here, but I will pay them double. “Two, what I also know is that we shared something”—she takes a deep breath in—“a while ago, but now it’s gone.”
“What if I want it back?” I ask the loaded question.
She pffts out, cocking her hip to the side. “You think I’m going to be your rebound?” She points at herself.
I can’t help but chuckle, my whole body on alert. My hand clenches my jacket so tight I think my fingers are turning white. “You aren’t anyone’s rebound or second choice.” I take a step toward her, my feet not even caring what my head is saying. At this point, I’m not thinking about anything but her. I stand so close to her I can feel her breath on me. “You’re the fucking first choice every single time.” The words come out in almost a whisper. My hand drops my jacket to the ground and flies to hold her face. She gasps just as my lips touch hers and I feel like I just walked into heaven.