followed his stare to where Peter was reclining on the sofa, half-naked and staring intently at Derek, his blue eyes narrowed in apparent annoyance at having been interrupted.
The flowers fell from Derek’s hand, landing on the cement step in a flurry of abruptly-shed petals. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Kelly dared to meet his eyes, and the look she saw there made her stomach twist and filled her with the urge to reach out and comfort him, to explain. He left before she had the chance. As she watched from the doorway, he climbed into his truck, slammed the door shut and tore out of the parking lot.
She knelt to pick up the fallen bouquet, finding a note tucked among the blossoms on a little plastic prong . I’m sorry, it read , but I know this setback won’t keep you from fulfilling your dream. You’ll make it happen. Love, Derek
She clutched the bouquet to her chest, blinking back tears.
“Who’s the musclehead?” Peter asked, appearing suddenly at her shoulder.
She pulled the door softly shut, unable to bring herself to respond. All she could think about was the hurt she’d seen in Derek’s eyes.
“A boyfriend?” Peter asked, his tone edged with obvious jealousy.
She shook her head, afraid her voice would give away her misery if she spoke.
Peter’s face lightened considerably. “Good.” He placed a hand on her waist, turning her to face him. “What do you say about getting back together then?”
She shook her head and mustered all the firmness she could. It wasn’t very difficult to do when she thought of what an ass he’d been while they were dating. “No, Peter.”
“Come on, baby. I’ll be back in town for good within the month. We’ve already got the building. It’s right in town on the corner of West and Spiller, not far from here at all. I could move back in. Or, better yet, we could move some place better together. I’ll be making plenty of money.”
“Wait,” she said, her heart suddenly in her throat, “the corner of West and Spiller?”
He nodded. “It’s right in town, near Grey Street.”
“I know where it is,” she said, her head whirling more than ever, and not just from the wine.
“Then you see how perfect the situation is.” He leaned in, breathing wine-fumes against her face as his lips brushed her cheek. “Say ‘yes’.”
“No.” She pushed him away, ducking beneath his arm.
“Don’t be like that, baby.”
“Don’t call me baby! I want you to leave.” She was choking back tears now, her mind whirling with thoughts of Derek and the revelation that her perfect café premise would soon be Peter’s new office.
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do. Get out of here, Peter.”
He glowered at her. “What about my shirts?”
“Go get them out of the washer. They should be done by now.”
“They’ll be soaking wet!”
“I don’t care. You have to leave.”
He stomped out the door moments later, still bare from the waist up, soggy shirts in hand. When he was gone Kelly locked the door and leaned against it, sliding down to the floor. What had she just let happen?
****
Derek tended shop automatically, largely indifferent to the fact that they’d run out of raspberry jelly and that protesters had queued up on the sidewalk again. He’d put Jason in charge of the frying, not trusting himself to make the donuts with his usual care. All he could think about was Kelly, and he found himself gripping the counter so hard it hurt as the scene from the evening before played out in his head for what seemed the thousandth time. An undressed man had been the last thing he’d expected to find when he’d ventured to her apartment. He’d been worried that going to see her after she’d broken up with him was too forward, that she’d needed space. What a load of shit that’d been!
He raked a hand through his hair, but it was too
The flowers fell from Derek’s hand, landing on the cement step in a flurry of abruptly-shed petals. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Kelly dared to meet his eyes, and the look she saw there made her stomach twist and filled her with the urge to reach out and comfort him, to explain. He left before she had the chance. As she watched from the doorway, he climbed into his truck, slammed the door shut and tore out of the parking lot.
She knelt to pick up the fallen bouquet, finding a note tucked among the blossoms on a little plastic prong . I’m sorry, it read , but I know this setback won’t keep you from fulfilling your dream. You’ll make it happen. Love, Derek
She clutched the bouquet to her chest, blinking back tears.
“Who’s the musclehead?” Peter asked, appearing suddenly at her shoulder.
She pulled the door softly shut, unable to bring herself to respond. All she could think about was the hurt she’d seen in Derek’s eyes.
“A boyfriend?” Peter asked, his tone edged with obvious jealousy.
She shook her head, afraid her voice would give away her misery if she spoke.
Peter’s face lightened considerably. “Good.” He placed a hand on her waist, turning her to face him. “What do you say about getting back together then?”
She shook her head and mustered all the firmness she could. It wasn’t very difficult to do when she thought of what an ass he’d been while they were dating. “No, Peter.”
“Come on, baby. I’ll be back in town for good within the month. We’ve already got the building. It’s right in town on the corner of West and Spiller, not far from here at all. I could move back in. Or, better yet, we could move some place better together. I’ll be making plenty of money.”
“Wait,” she said, her heart suddenly in her throat, “the corner of West and Spiller?”
He nodded. “It’s right in town, near Grey Street.”
“I know where it is,” she said, her head whirling more than ever, and not just from the wine.
“Then you see how perfect the situation is.” He leaned in, breathing wine-fumes against her face as his lips brushed her cheek. “Say ‘yes’.”
“No.” She pushed him away, ducking beneath his arm.
“Don’t be like that, baby.”
“Don’t call me baby! I want you to leave.” She was choking back tears now, her mind whirling with thoughts of Derek and the revelation that her perfect café premise would soon be Peter’s new office.
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do. Get out of here, Peter.”
He glowered at her. “What about my shirts?”
“Go get them out of the washer. They should be done by now.”
“They’ll be soaking wet!”
“I don’t care. You have to leave.”
He stomped out the door moments later, still bare from the waist up, soggy shirts in hand. When he was gone Kelly locked the door and leaned against it, sliding down to the floor. What had she just let happen?
****
Derek tended shop automatically, largely indifferent to the fact that they’d run out of raspberry jelly and that protesters had queued up on the sidewalk again. He’d put Jason in charge of the frying, not trusting himself to make the donuts with his usual care. All he could think about was Kelly, and he found himself gripping the counter so hard it hurt as the scene from the evening before played out in his head for what seemed the thousandth time. An undressed man had been the last thing he’d expected to find when he’d ventured to her apartment. He’d been worried that going to see her after she’d broken up with him was too forward, that she’d needed space. What a load of shit that’d been!
He raked a hand through his hair, but it was too
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