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I pulled my cell phone from my back pocket and speed-dialed.
“Skin Deep,” Hazel answered.
“Hey, it’s Cami. I’m not going to make it today.”
“Are you sick?”
“No . . . it’s . . . complicated. Really, really complicated.”
“I get it. No problem, but that sucks for me. Sundays are boring, and now it’s going to suck even worse.”
“Sorry, Hazel.”
“No worries. I’ll tell Cal.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Hopefully he won’t fire me for calling in so soon after starting the job.”
Hazel blew air through her lips. “Truthfully, we’re not busy enough on Sundays for a receptionist. He’s not going to say anything.”
“Okay. Later,” I said.
I put on my shoes, grabbed my purse, and drove the Smurf to the Red. Hank’s black Jaguar XKR sat alone in the parking lot. I parked next to it, allowing plenty of room between vehicles, and pulled my coat tightly around me as I walked across the parking lot.
Queen was playing over the speakers when I walked in, and Hank was lying on the east bar, looking up at the ceiling.
“What are you doing, crazy?” I asked.
“Relaxing before Jorie gets here. I’m going to ask her to move in with me today.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? Congratulations, Hank, that’s awesome.”
He sat up and sighed. “Only if she says yes.”
“What is your ex going to say about it?”
“I talked to Vickie on Friday. She’s okay with it. Jorie gets along great with the boys.”
“Wow,” I said, taking in a deep breath. I sat on the stool next to him. “That’s a big deal.”
“What if she says no?” he said. There was a worry in his voice that I’d never heard before.
“Then you’ll figure it out.”
“What if she says no and then dumps me?”
I nodded slowly. “That would be bad.”
He hopped off the bar. “I need a drink.”
“Me, too.”
Hank poured whiskey into two glasses, and then slid one closer to me. I took a drink and frowned. “Whoa. What is this?”
“Magic,” he said, taking a drink, too. “I love her, Cami. I don’t know what I’d do if she said no.”
“She loves you, too,” I said. “Focus on that.”
Hank’s eyebrows pulled in. “Why are you drinking?”
“I cheated on T.J.”
“When?”
“Half an hour ago.”
Hank’s eyes widened for just a moment. “With who?”
I paused, hesitant to say it aloud. “Trent.”
His eyes got wide again, and he mumbled something in Italian.
“Yeah, what you said.” I took another drink, finishing off the glass. My cell phone rang, and I turned it over. It was Trenton.
“Hello?”
“Hazel said you’re not coming in. You okay?”
“Uh . . .”
“Are you sick?”
“No.”
“Then why aren’t you coming to work?”
“I have a bad case of awkward as f**k.”
“Because I kissed you?” he asked, incensed. I could hear Hazel in the background.
“You kissed her?” Hazel squealed. “You bad ass motherfu—”
“You made it complicated! You can’t complain now!” I said.
“What the f**k does it matter if I kissed you?”
“Because! I have! A boyfriend!” I yelled into the phone.
“Will he even notice? You haven’t spoken to him in a week!”
“That’s none of your business!”
“Yes, it is! You’re my business!”
“Fuck off!”
“You f**k off!” he yelled back. We were both quiet for a while, and then Trenton finally spoke. “I’m coming over after I get off work.”
“No,” I said, rubbing my temple. “You messed everything up, Trent. It’s . . . it’s too weird, now.”
“That’s stupid. Everything is the same,” he said. “The only difference is that now you know I’m a damn good kisser.”
I couldn’t help but smile.
“I won’t surprise attack your face. I just want to see you,” he said.
The truth was, I had gotten used to him being around, but if we kept spending so much time together, I needed to end things with T.J. . . . but I wasn’t sure I wanted to do that.
“No,” I said, and disconnected the call.
My phone rang again.
“Hello?”
“Did you just hang up on me?” Trenton asked, annoyed.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I was finished talking.”
“You can’t say good-bye?”
“Good-bye . . .”
“Wait!”
“That’s why I hung up. I knew you wouldn’t let me say good-bye.”
“You’re really going to cut me out of your life because of one f**king kiss?”
“Was that all it was?” I asked.
Trenton fell quiet.
“That’s what I thought.” I hit End again.
He didn’t call back.
Hank stood across from me, and we both drank our troubles away. We finished one bottle, and he opened another. We were giggling and being stupid by the time Jorie walked in the door. Hank tried to pretend he was sober but failed miserably.
“Hello, my love,” he said.
“Hi,” Jorie said, smiling. She hugged him, and he wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her long, pearly waves against her back. She studied both of us, but it didn’t take her long to come to a conclusion. “You guys have been here a while. Got into the stash, huh?”
Hank grinned as he weaved back and forth. “Baby, I wanted to—”
“Hank,” I said, shaking my head quickly before Jorie could see me. Jorie turned, and I smiled at her.
“What are you two up to?” she asked.
“A bottle and a half,” Hank said, chuckling at his own joke.
Jorie took the rest of the bottle away from us and placed it back in the lower cabinet, locking it and putting the key in her pocket. She was wearing black shorts that looked like mini tuxedo pants, and a pretty champagne-colored, see-through blouse that revealed her black lacy bra. Her black heels were sky-high, but she still wasn’t as tall as Hank.
