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Hell, she’d even been lying to herself about those last two. She’d been denying her feelings for him though they had existed for as long as she could remember. And she’d pretended she wasn’t dying for him physically when the thought consumed her every waking moment.
Even her parents had zoned right in on her mood when she’d gone to visit them Sunday. She’d tried so hard to paste on a smile, especially around her father, who was just now starting to seem like his old self. But her mother had immediately noticed something was wrong and had questioned her about it.
She’d covered…promising everything was fine.
One more lie to add to her list. She was becoming quite adept at it. And frankly, she hated herself for that.
“You deserve to feel this way,” she told herself as she sat in the closed bakery a few evenings later. It was her quiet time again, when the café staff had left for the day but the evening kitchen and delivery help hadn’t arrived. She was sipping a big, fattening cappuccino laden not only with whipped cream but a swirl of caramel. Feeling like absolute scum.
“Iz?” a voice called. A female one.
Turning on her stool, she saw her cousin, Bridget, enter through the employees’ entrance in the back.
“Hey,” Izzie mumbled.
“I’ve been calling.”
“I don’t usually answer the phone after hours.”
Bridget frowned. “I mean your cell phone.”
“Turned off.” Izzie blew on the steaming coffee drink. “There’s more if you want to make yourself one.”
Bridget looked longingly at the mug and fresh whipped cream and got to work. She remained quiet as she did it, but Izzie saw the worried sidelong glances her cousin cast her way.
When Bridget had finished-topping her hot drink with a sprinkle of cinnamon-she took a seat on the opposite side of the counter. “You look like hell. You haven’t been sleeping.”
“Thanks. And you’re right. I haven’t been.”
Bridget sighed. “Me, neither.”
Finally looking seriously at her cousin, she saw the dark circles under her pretty eyes and the droop of her normally smiling mouth. It was an unusual combination. Bridget was not the cheerful, constantly giddy sort, but she was always quietly happy. And her face reflected that.
Not today, though. “What’s wrong?”
“I hate men.”
“I hear ya,” Izzie mumbled, though her heart wasn’t in it. She didn’t hate Nick, not at all. She just hated that look of disappointment on his face. Hated how it made her feel.
Low. Rotten.
Yes, she’d had a reason to keep her identity hidden from most of the world. But once she’d let Nick lay her down in the back of that van and do things to her that would cause a real good little Catholic girl to faint of shock, all masks should have been torn away.
“I don’t understand them.”
Sensing her cousin was talking about one man in particular, Izzie set aside her own emotional misery. “What’s going on?”
“It’s that guy at work I mentioned a few weeks ago. Dean.”
“The new salesman?”
Bridget nodded. “I finally met him for coffee one day, kind of figuring it was our first date. But obviously I totally misread him. He made it clear he was just interested in getting to know a coworker. And he hasn’t asked me out again.”
Izzie frowned, disliking the look of unhappiness on Bridget’s face. “Have you made it clear you’re interested?”
“I went out with him, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but did you make it clear that you were looking at him as more than just a coworker?”
“How was I supposed to do that?”
“I don’t know-flirting, smiling, brushing up against him. All the typical weapons of the female romantic arsenal.”
“I…don’t suppose I did. We talked mostly about business…at least when I wasn’t griping about my landlord.”
“So, he might not even know you’re interested in him that way. Which means, you need to let him know, then figure out if he gave you the brush or retreated out of self-preservation.”
Bridget blinked. “Self-preservation?”
“Some men won’t make a move on a woman unless they’re sure she’s interested. It takes a lot of self-confidence.”
Self-confidence like Nick’s. It had taken a boatload of it for him to keep pursuing her when she’d kept turning him down.
“Is that what you would do? Make it more obvious?”
“Yeah. I would.”
Her cousin mumbled something, then cleared her throat. “You know, I’d think you’re right. But there’s something about Dean that makes me think he’s not quite as nice and shy as he seems.”
