him of anything only to find out it was something harmless.
I close my eyes, relax my body, and concentrate on shallow breaths so I appear to be asleep. I cling to him all night, torn with what to do. By morning I’ve become agitated with his evasive behavior. Will anything ever be easy with him?
Chapter 14
At promptly nine o’clock Vic comes into the café, only meeting my eyes for a fraction of a second before going to his usual table.
I take in a deep breath and head over. He left me early this morning with a kiss on the head, wanting me to stay home and rest. I told him I was feeling better. He tried to argue. He lost.
“Morning,” I greet. I want to shout “Who was that woman? Tell me now or somebody gets hurt!” Instead I follow it up with, “The usual?”
Vic unfolds the paper, “Please.”
I usually find it amusing that we still continue our mornings in the same manner, when normally the night before he had his dick shoved somewhere in me. Today I find it annoying.
He glances up from the paper, waiting for me to say more since I’m still standing there.
“We’re out of iced tea.” I lied, we aren’t. Should I feel bad? I’m upset and I haven’t even heard his side yet, but it’s not like I’m spitting in his food.
He doesn’t skip a beat, focusing back on the paper, “Coffee’s fine.”
My heart thumps as I leave to put in his order and get him a cup. I grab iced tea instead.
Vic eyes it but doesn’t comment. He only has it refilled one more time before Maya shows up. I try not to take it personally that normally by now he would be on his third or fourth glass.
“Has he said anything?” Maya whispers around a bobby pin as she pulls her hair back.
“It’s been just like every morning.”
“Well that’s good. At least he’s not being weird.”
Very true. It does nothing to ease my mind though.
Maya’s bobby pin drops from her mouth to the ground, her hands frozen halfway from securing the hairband in place, eyes wide, “That’s her.”
I follow her gaze to the front door, where a woman has just entered with big Jackie O sunglasses, red lips, and dark hair that is perfectly groomed in big soft curls reminiscent of the nineteen-forties. She has a slender hourglass shape, her black dress clinging to every curve, her toned legs attached to red heels.
“Oh fuck,” I quietly breathe out. “You didn’t tell me she looked like that .”
“Can you blame me?”
“No. Thank you.” I wouldn’t have slept if she had told me the woman looked like some black and white film chick in a private detectives office.
The sides of the woman’s red painted lips tilt up as she removes her sunglasses, eyes aimed at Vic.
Everyone’s heads turn to follow as she makes her way to his table. Not because she’s gorgeous, which she is, but because no one in this town has seen anything like her. Not even the rich European tourists look this put together.
The sound of her heels clicking on the floor has Vic glancing up, a rare sound in here.
No sign of recognition crosses his face; it remains impartial and expressionless like always.
She slides into the empty chair across from him with the kind of grace and sophistication one is bred with.
“Shit,” I grumble.
“Yup,” Maya agrees.
They stare for a moment, then Vic folds his paper back up and places it next to his almost finished plate, “What are you doing here?”
The woman smirks, placing her black frames on the table and draping one toned leg over the other. She leans back into her chair, lazily bringing an arm to rest on the back so most of her body is facing the restaurant. Her eyes that can only be described as calculating are on Maya and I. “So which one is she?”
“None of your business,” Vic sneers under his breath, but the café has grown eerily silent and it carries through.
The woman makes a tsking noise with her tongue. It gives you a glimpse of her perfect white teeth, which appear whiter
I close my eyes, relax my body, and concentrate on shallow breaths so I appear to be asleep. I cling to him all night, torn with what to do. By morning I’ve become agitated with his evasive behavior. Will anything ever be easy with him?
Chapter 14
At promptly nine o’clock Vic comes into the café, only meeting my eyes for a fraction of a second before going to his usual table.
I take in a deep breath and head over. He left me early this morning with a kiss on the head, wanting me to stay home and rest. I told him I was feeling better. He tried to argue. He lost.
“Morning,” I greet. I want to shout “Who was that woman? Tell me now or somebody gets hurt!” Instead I follow it up with, “The usual?”
Vic unfolds the paper, “Please.”
I usually find it amusing that we still continue our mornings in the same manner, when normally the night before he had his dick shoved somewhere in me. Today I find it annoying.
He glances up from the paper, waiting for me to say more since I’m still standing there.
“We’re out of iced tea.” I lied, we aren’t. Should I feel bad? I’m upset and I haven’t even heard his side yet, but it’s not like I’m spitting in his food.
He doesn’t skip a beat, focusing back on the paper, “Coffee’s fine.”
My heart thumps as I leave to put in his order and get him a cup. I grab iced tea instead.
Vic eyes it but doesn’t comment. He only has it refilled one more time before Maya shows up. I try not to take it personally that normally by now he would be on his third or fourth glass.
“Has he said anything?” Maya whispers around a bobby pin as she pulls her hair back.
“It’s been just like every morning.”
“Well that’s good. At least he’s not being weird.”
Very true. It does nothing to ease my mind though.
Maya’s bobby pin drops from her mouth to the ground, her hands frozen halfway from securing the hairband in place, eyes wide, “That’s her.”
I follow her gaze to the front door, where a woman has just entered with big Jackie O sunglasses, red lips, and dark hair that is perfectly groomed in big soft curls reminiscent of the nineteen-forties. She has a slender hourglass shape, her black dress clinging to every curve, her toned legs attached to red heels.
“Oh fuck,” I quietly breathe out. “You didn’t tell me she looked like that .”
“Can you blame me?”
“No. Thank you.” I wouldn’t have slept if she had told me the woman looked like some black and white film chick in a private detectives office.
The sides of the woman’s red painted lips tilt up as she removes her sunglasses, eyes aimed at Vic.
Everyone’s heads turn to follow as she makes her way to his table. Not because she’s gorgeous, which she is, but because no one in this town has seen anything like her. Not even the rich European tourists look this put together.
The sound of her heels clicking on the floor has Vic glancing up, a rare sound in here.
No sign of recognition crosses his face; it remains impartial and expressionless like always.
She slides into the empty chair across from him with the kind of grace and sophistication one is bred with.
“Shit,” I grumble.
“Yup,” Maya agrees.
They stare for a moment, then Vic folds his paper back up and places it next to his almost finished plate, “What are you doing here?”
The woman smirks, placing her black frames on the table and draping one toned leg over the other. She leans back into her chair, lazily bringing an arm to rest on the back so most of her body is facing the restaurant. Her eyes that can only be described as calculating are on Maya and I. “So which one is she?”
“None of your business,” Vic sneers under his breath, but the café has grown eerily silent and it carries through.
The woman makes a tsking noise with her tongue. It gives you a glimpse of her perfect white teeth, which appear whiter
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