eyes, but it was no use. This was our norm. We tried to play nice but this is how it always ended. Sneering words, gritted teeth, pointed fingers, guilt…
I found it impossible to forgive him. Not just for what had happened to Elle but what had happened to me. My childhood vanished, and the fallout from that day sent ripples throughout my life that met no resistance. They rolled on, never meeting new shores.
“Forgiveness! Easy for you to say, dad.” A black-tie waiter approached our table with a bottle of wine in one hand and strategically draped wine linen over his other arm. “Would you care for a complimentary glass of our house white?”
“He’d love one,” I snapped. The poor waiter’s eyes widened for a moment as he looked between my father and I, obviously sensing the tension between us.
“No thank you.” My father smiled tightly and nodded, dismissing the waiter.
“I’ve had enough,” I mumbled as I tossed my dinner napkin aside and got to my feet.
“Flor,” Liza called after me, but I was far too angry and emotionally frayed to stay put for a moment longer. I needed the sanctuary of my apartment and my best friend’s shoulder to cry on.
I made my way to the exit just in time to see Matt breezing in, wearing jeans and a Kiss tee shirt. I had to laugh or I’d cry. “You rang, mademoiselle?” He bent at the waist in a formal, low bow. His smile gleamed in the low light, and I was instantly reminded of all the reasons Matt and I had been glued to each other from the day we met.
“I don’t think they will seat you, looking like you just came from a rock concert. What, with the hair and all.” I motioned toward his rumpled hair and Matt laced his fingers in it and rumpled it further.
“There. It’s deliberate now,” he winked.
“Where’s Cal?”
“He’s waiting for me back at our place. I, uh, left in a hurry.”
“Dammit. I’m so sorry—”
“You know! If I were a betting woman, I wouldn’t have put my money on seeing you here,” a snotty voice chimed in like a warped bell. Though I knew exactly who it was, I whirled in shock to face Ms. Brunette…Goliath’s wife.
“You must lose a lot,” Matt zinged back without missing a beat.
“I’m afraid not.” She beamed at us. Her brown eyes evaluating us, scrutinizing us.
Heat rose to my cheeks and I felt frozen in place. Later on, I knew I’d think of about a thousand ugly things to say back to her. Things that might wound her, but for the life of me I had nothing at the ready.
Dammit!
“Ah! Sweetheart, looks like you’re wearing a bit too much blush,” she sneered cattily as she extended her manicured hand to my face and brushed the back of her index finger across my cheek.
“And you’re wearing a bit too much bitch , bitch!” Matt snapped as he batted her hand away from me making a sharp pop!
“Watch your step,” she warned, but Matt only laughed in her face.
“Or what? You’ll throw a fit? Break a nail? Hold your breath until you get your way? Fuck off, lady!”
“You don’t like me. I don’t like you. That’s fine. I won’t lose sleep over it, but there is no need to make a scene,” I offered firmly.
“Stay away from him,” she warned quietly, leaning forward into my personal space. “You’re nothing but trouble. The last thing I want to see him doing is screwing around with some little bar skank. Stay out of our clubs, too. Don’t think for one second that you’ll hop on the gravy train of bottomless drinks at my expense.”
“No need to warn me off. I have no plans of ever seeing Graham again. So go ahead and pull that giant stick from up your ass,” I whispered, leaning forward to meet her face to face.
“Have a nice night,” she ground out through gritted teeth.
“Fuck you very much!” Matt hollered loudly with an exaggerated wave as she made for the door.
“Ahem, Sir, Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” the maître d’ said in a hushed voice as he sidled
I found it impossible to forgive him. Not just for what had happened to Elle but what had happened to me. My childhood vanished, and the fallout from that day sent ripples throughout my life that met no resistance. They rolled on, never meeting new shores.
“Forgiveness! Easy for you to say, dad.” A black-tie waiter approached our table with a bottle of wine in one hand and strategically draped wine linen over his other arm. “Would you care for a complimentary glass of our house white?”
“He’d love one,” I snapped. The poor waiter’s eyes widened for a moment as he looked between my father and I, obviously sensing the tension between us.
“No thank you.” My father smiled tightly and nodded, dismissing the waiter.
“I’ve had enough,” I mumbled as I tossed my dinner napkin aside and got to my feet.
“Flor,” Liza called after me, but I was far too angry and emotionally frayed to stay put for a moment longer. I needed the sanctuary of my apartment and my best friend’s shoulder to cry on.
I made my way to the exit just in time to see Matt breezing in, wearing jeans and a Kiss tee shirt. I had to laugh or I’d cry. “You rang, mademoiselle?” He bent at the waist in a formal, low bow. His smile gleamed in the low light, and I was instantly reminded of all the reasons Matt and I had been glued to each other from the day we met.
“I don’t think they will seat you, looking like you just came from a rock concert. What, with the hair and all.” I motioned toward his rumpled hair and Matt laced his fingers in it and rumpled it further.
“There. It’s deliberate now,” he winked.
“Where’s Cal?”
“He’s waiting for me back at our place. I, uh, left in a hurry.”
“Dammit. I’m so sorry—”
“You know! If I were a betting woman, I wouldn’t have put my money on seeing you here,” a snotty voice chimed in like a warped bell. Though I knew exactly who it was, I whirled in shock to face Ms. Brunette…Goliath’s wife.
“You must lose a lot,” Matt zinged back without missing a beat.
“I’m afraid not.” She beamed at us. Her brown eyes evaluating us, scrutinizing us.
Heat rose to my cheeks and I felt frozen in place. Later on, I knew I’d think of about a thousand ugly things to say back to her. Things that might wound her, but for the life of me I had nothing at the ready.
Dammit!
“Ah! Sweetheart, looks like you’re wearing a bit too much blush,” she sneered cattily as she extended her manicured hand to my face and brushed the back of her index finger across my cheek.
“And you’re wearing a bit too much bitch , bitch!” Matt snapped as he batted her hand away from me making a sharp pop!
“Watch your step,” she warned, but Matt only laughed in her face.
“Or what? You’ll throw a fit? Break a nail? Hold your breath until you get your way? Fuck off, lady!”
“You don’t like me. I don’t like you. That’s fine. I won’t lose sleep over it, but there is no need to make a scene,” I offered firmly.
“Stay away from him,” she warned quietly, leaning forward into my personal space. “You’re nothing but trouble. The last thing I want to see him doing is screwing around with some little bar skank. Stay out of our clubs, too. Don’t think for one second that you’ll hop on the gravy train of bottomless drinks at my expense.”
“No need to warn me off. I have no plans of ever seeing Graham again. So go ahead and pull that giant stick from up your ass,” I whispered, leaning forward to meet her face to face.
“Have a nice night,” she ground out through gritted teeth.
“Fuck you very much!” Matt hollered loudly with an exaggerated wave as she made for the door.
“Ahem, Sir, Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” the maître d’ said in a hushed voice as he sidled
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