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It's as cold a dismissal as I can ever remember receiving, and it pisses me off. But I know it's a lie. The slight flare of her nostrils, the way her throat worked when she saw me. Even after she'd recovered from her surprise, I saw the way her plate wobbled slightly in her grasp, telling me what I needed to know. She's not unaffected by me. And it's not only anger that she feels.
I dig back into my breakfast with gusto. While I devour my perfectly poached egg and butter drenched brioche, I plan. I was an asshole last night. I was annoyed and disappointed. And she was fucking rude. It doesn't matter, though, because after what I've just seen in her eyes and that energy that crackled between us, I know I made a mistake walking away from her.
When I'm done, I'm going to walk over to her table, apologize properly, introduce myself and we can hit the reset button. I glance at my watch. Kojo is meeting me in about thirty minutes to take me to one of the farms I'm here to visit. I don't have much time.
When I look back up, my toast turns to dust in my mouth.
She's smiling again. This time, it’s a blinding smile that shows a row of gorgeous, straight white teeth and lights up her entire face. At another man. He's leaning over like he has the right to be that close to her, whispering in her ear.
Jealousy grips my entire body. I have an urge to walk over there and ask her what the fuck she thinks she’s doing smiling at him like that.
I restrain myself. It's a completely irrational impulse. Insane, really, that the thought even occurs to me. Maybe she and that guy hooked up before I saw her. Maybe they’re a couple and on vacation here.
But I know that can’t be true. If he’d already met her, there is no way she would have been at the bar alone last night. She wouldn't have walked in here alone this morning. If she had a man, he'd be by her side constantly, making sure that everyone knew it.
No, I think bitterly. This joker is just trying his luck. And she's fucking smiling at him.
His hand brushes her shoulder, and her head turns slightly. It looks like she's playing coy, but from where I'm sitting I can see her eyes. And her smile doesn't reach them. In fact, from her nose up she looks like she's frowning — from the furrow of her brow to the flat expression in her eyes. And if that idiot talking to her was paying attention, he'd see it, too. I start to get up when her eyes slide to mine and she gives me a look that freezes me in place. Her eyes glitter with challenge, and even though she doesn't say a word, I hear the "don't you dare" she communicates before she looks back at her would be suitor.
Oh, but I do dare.
I signal to the waiter that I'm ready for my check. I stand up and pick up my phone, sunglasses and wait for him to come over.
A woman, a petite, beautiful woman who looks just like Nia Long, but with braids and darker skin I’d seen her with at the bar last night saunters up to the table and sits down. She says something to the man, she scowls at his response, and picks up her menu and covers her face with it. I laugh at her blunt dismissal, and I laugh even harder when he flushes bright red and hurries from the table.
As soon as I've signed my credit card receipt, I head toward their table. Her friend looks up as I approach, whispers to her and then they both watch me walk over. Her friend with a grin of abject delight on her face, the woman I spilled beer on looks like she's going to throw up.
"Good morning, ladies."
"Good morning, yourself," her frie
nd returns, flirtatious and enthusiastic. She doesn’t say a word.
I look back at her friend and return the smile; it’s contagious and totally charming. "Not just yet. I wanted to come and apologize properly for last night."
I turn slightly so that I’m facing the woman who has yet to acknowledge my presence.
"I'm sorry about spilling my drink all over you. And I'm sorry I wasn't sufficiently apologetic."
"Okay. Thanks." Her surly response is delivered with a quick glance that says, “Go away.”
"Oh, that was you?” her companion says with a sly grin, her eyes light. “Oh, you’ll have to forgive my cousin's rudeness. She's just come from America, and she's tired. Long journey," her companion says. "I'm Bambi, she's Emma." She sticks her hands out for me to shake, and I do. Her grip is strong and a little too enthusiastic, but I like her already. "Do you want to join us?"
"Oh, I’d love to," I start. Emma’s eyes jump to mine, wide with undisguised alarm, and I want to laugh.
"But I've got a meeting.”
Her shoulders droop so suddenly with relief that it’s comical. I find myself wishing I didn’t have a meeting and that I could sit down and watch her squirm a little.
"Oh, that's a shame," Bambi says, dragging out the vowel in the last word to give it more weight. "Are you here on business?" She asks brightly, looking at me expectantly, as if my answer was very important.
"Yes, I am.” And can’t hide my surprise when she squeals to herself.
“Do you have a business partner traveling with you? You know maybe we could make it a foursome?” Bambi asks, her eyes and smile both wider now. I throw a startled glance at Emma and she’s watching Bambi in disbelief.
I turn back to Bambi, see that her smile has slipped and she’s still waiting expectantly for an answer.
Her smile falters a little when I say, “No, I’m not traveling with anyone.”
