But that was before last Saturday, before our lapse in the hallway, before he apparently decided he needed to get rid of me so badly that he’s willing to take emergency leave from work to make it happen.
“Okay, well, thanks for the heads up.” I grab their empty beer glasses as I go, tossing over my shoulder, “Another round of these with your quesadilla order, or are you two good with water for now?”
“I’m good with water,” Capo says as Keely asks over him, “Could I have another round, please? The lager? And I’m really sorry!”
I wave a hand, my brittle smile still in place. “No worries, it’s not a big deal.”
But itisa big deal.
It’s a huge deal.
And I can’t even confront Dean about it tonight because it’s late, and he and the girls are likely already asleep. The main house is always dead quiet by ten, and even if I leave right now, it will be later than that by the time I get home.
Home…
I won’t have one of those much longer, either, I guess.
Dammit, and I was really coming to love my cozy studio!
I’m punching the order into the computer, fighting tears, when Tully appears at my side. “Who are they? Friends ofyours?” she asks, peeking around me to spy on the once again bickering Keely and Capo.
“Not really,” I say, tapping at the appetizer screen. “More like friends of friends, I guess. Capo’s on Blue and Dean’s team, and Keely works for the Voodoo in the PR department.”
Tully’s jaw drops. “Okay. Wow. So, those players really areallhot as hell. Every single one of them. Maybe I should start going to hockey games, after all.” She makes a hungry sound as she taps a manicured nail to her chin. “I know it’s gross to have a type, but cocky Italian men are my weakness. All that dark, olive skin. That hair, that smirk…” She hums again. “Do you think Capo would want my number? I mean, if he’s not with that woman. He’s not, right? I wasn’t getting romantic vibes from them, but…”
“No, I don’t think so.” I glance back their way to see Keely with her forehead on Capo’s shoulder while he strokes her hair. It’s tender, but not the slightest bit sexual, and they definitely aren’t giving couple energy. “I think they’re just friends, but I can’t be one-hundred-percent sure.”
“They’re just friends,” Tully declares. “Guys that hot don’t date frumpy women in bad polyester suits.” She reaches out, touching my arm gently. “No offense intended, obviously. I mean, I’m a girl’s girl. Wear whatever you want, queen, as far as I’m concerned. I just know guys like that.” She slits her sky-blue eyes Capo’s way with a wicked grin. “They want someone even more put together than they are. Someone who makes them afraid that maybe theyaren’tthe hottest thing in the room, after all. That’s their kryptonite, and I do look especially fetching in my Clover original jumpsuit tonight.” She skims her hands over the 1970s-inspired silhouette that clings to every curve.
“You do,” I agree, my stomach tied in too many knots to say more.
“Mind if I take over service for them?” she asks. “With the tip all yours to keep, of course. Obviously.”
“You can keep the tip,” I say, “and be my guest. But fair warning, Keely’s pretty drunk and sad. She just found out her ex got his mistress pregnant with twins. In their bed.”
Tully sucks in a scandalized breath. “Bastard! Seriously, what a shitty piece of work. Ugh. Men! Seriously, I hate them. And I hate that I’m straight.” She flips her hair over both shoulders before pulling in a calming breath. “But I am, and it’s been a while since I’ve seen a guy that hot in real life, so…I’m going in. But I’ll be super gentle and supportive and sneaky about giving Capo my number. Keely won’t suspect a thing. Trust me.”
“Of course, I do,” I say.
I do trust her. When it comes to dating, Tully’s a shark, but she’s not the kind to bloody the water with the flesh of the innocent. And sheisa girl’s girl. But she’s also coming off a long dry spell, and if Capo’s single, there’s no reason she shouldn’t seduce him to her heart—and vagina’s—content. She has no conflict of interest.
I, on the other hand, have complicated connections to the Voodoo.
But those connections might be about to getlesscomplicated, once I’m fired Monday morning…
I can’t believe Dean didn’t tell me as soon as the emergency leave was approved. Hell, I can’t believe he didn’t tell me he was asking for emergency leave in the first place. I thought we were being honest with each other, at least about everything except how desperate we still are to get naked together.
I feel so betrayed.
So sad and angry and just…thrown.
So thrown, that when Emilio asks if I want to cut out early, I take him up on it. I usually try to stay on as long as possible on Saturdays—both for the tips and the chance to listen to the late-night bands—but tonight, I’m…itchy. Itchy like the skin beneath a cast, deep down in a place no pencil can reach.
And there’s only one cure for a case of the itches like that…
On my way out to the parking lot, to the Civic that Dean insisted I drive on the weekends, too, I text my hacker friend, Plato—Hey, I know it’s last-minute, and I’ve been MIA since last weekend, but would you be up for a hunt tonight? I got off work early, and I’m too wired to sleep.
My terminally online friend texts back right away—Hell yes! I thought you’d never ask. I’ve been dying to dive back into this. I think we’re close. We’re going to catch this son of a bitch soon, babe, I can feel it.
