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He asked, “Does this mean you’re back together?”
Ooohh, good one.
She said, “I don’t know how we could be, honestly. Who am I to call anything a relationship, right?”
Tad was silent a moment, then quietly said, “You have relationships.”
“Professional ones, sure.”
He didn’t say anything and something clicked in her mind. She stole another glance his way and said, “You’re right. I have a great relationship with you. For like, what? A gazillion years?”
“Do not age me, sugar plum. We’ve been together for nearly a decade. Since that shithole of a dive you miraculously turned around in New Orleans.”
“You were their best server and the highlight of the entire establishment. My God, the charisma you possess!”
“I only did it for the tips.”
“Liar. You can’t help yourself.” She smiled at him. “Things turned out great for that joint, but I know the patrons miss you dearly since I snatched you away.”
Eight years ago. That made Tad her longest relationship. Interesting.
He said, “And I shall forever remain hopelessly devoted to you, but… Why am I just now meeting the hubby?”
“Ex-hubby.”
“Potato, pot-ah-to. You called me from Vegas to say you were getting married and you didn’t even ask me to be your flower girl or maid of honor.”
“You’re a man,” she deadpanned.
“You know what I mean.”
Jenna sighed. “Tad, did it ever occur to you that what I had with Rafe was…” She paused as a bizarre notion rambled through her head.
“Was…what?”
She inhaled deeply. Let it out slowly. Then said, “Private.”
“As in, you wanted the dreamboat all to yourself?”
“Yes.”
She didn’t have to think twice about it. Jenna had been head over heels from the get-go, and she’d loved how she and Rafe had become instantly inseparable and how it’d always been just the two of them. Until San Francisco, that was.
“I didn’t want to share him,” she admitted. “I never realized that until now, but I’ve always just wanted to be with him. No cameras following us. No one to muck up the chemistry.”
“Does he know this?”
“Hey, I told him last night that I still love him. Baby steps, my friend. Baby steps.”
“No,” Tad was quick to say. “You have to stop with that, Miss Lonely Hearts. If you want this man more than just every three years, you had better do something about it. Because if you don’t… Someday, he might not be there.”
She gasped. Shooting him a hard look, she said, “Cruel much?”
He guffawed. “I am the only person who shoots from the hip with you, aren’t I? My bestie, you are wildly successful…and frightfully lonely. You think I don’t know this?” he challenged her with an intent expression when she flashed her gaze his way. “You think it doesn’t break my heart?”
She let out a shaky breath.
He continued. “You think I don’t see you sitting alone in hotel bars having a glass of champagne while you wait for me to arrive. That you eat room service four times a week. That you don’t have anyone other than Rafe in your contacts list that isn’t a client or someone else with a professional—not personal—association.”
