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A SCRIPT.
Beau Simon wanted her to read a script. What the hell was up with that? He’d taken off so fast that Betty hadn’t had time to ask any questions, and she wasn’t sure what to think.
So, she decided not to think about it at all. She marched back into The Grill, ignoring Jackie, Miss Goody-Two-Shoes, and the clone beside her, as well as the asshole with Jason Danvers.
She found Duke in the kitchen, set her hands on her hips and glared at him.
Duke tossed the remains of the lemons and limes that Betty had cut earlier into the garbage and leaned against the large wooden prep table.
“By the sourpuss look on your face, I’m taking it Beau can’t commit to the tournament.”
“Oh he can do it alright.” Now that she’d had a few seconds to think things over, Betty was pissed. She felt as if she’d been used by Duke and by Beau, and she was pretty damn sure that neither one of them gave a rat’s ass.
A wide smile broke over Duke’s face and his mustache quivered. It actually quivered.
“Nothing like pimping yourself out and taking one for the team,” she muttered.
“What’s that?” Duke’s mustache froze as he frowned. “Is everything alright?”
“You know what? It’s fine. Everything’s fine.”
But it wasn’t fine. None of this was fine. Something dark stirred inside Betty and she felt her cheeks flush as heat erupted along her skin.
She should just go before she did something stupid. Like open her mouth and insert her goddamn foot.
“I’m sick of everyone wanting something from me and not really giving a shit about the way I feel. Do I want to play in this stupid tournament? Hell no. Do I want all those men looking at me, thinking the things they’re going to think, which you and I both know won’t be rated PG. Oh, and then their wives and girlfriends will whisper to each other, ‘look, there’s that skank Barker’. I know what everyone says about me, Duke.”
Goddammit! There went those stupid feelings again. Couldn’t she just shut the hell up?
“You want to know the truth?” she snapped.
Holy. Hell. Where was this all coming from?
Betty’s chest was so tight that for a moment she couldn’t breathe and she saw black dots in front of her eyes. But then like a freight train running full steam ahead down a track that was broken, she couldn’t’ stop herself.
“I hate Beau Simon, and do you know why?” Tear pricked the corners of her eyes as that well inside her—the one that housed all kinds of crap—broke apart.
“I hate him because he fucked me to prove a point, and when I say fucked, I don’t mean he fucked me over. I mean he literally fucked me to prove a point.” She paused, chest heaving. “He made me…he made me feel things I thought I was done with.”
But she couldn’t finish. She was done.
Duke rubbed the ends of his mustache, his frown deeper, his eyes somber. “I’m sorry, Betty. I didn’t know.”
“Don’t pretend to care, Duke. We both know I’m not Billie or Bobbi and that I probably deserve every dirty look and nasty comment thrown my way. Normally I can
handle it.”
She sighed tiredly, and rubbed the back of her hand across her forehead. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m taking the rest of the afternoon.”
Without waiting for an answer she turned around and marched past Jackie, who was frozen near the entrance. The woman had obviously heard everything and Betty fought to keep her damn tears in her eyes where they belonged.
Head high. Shoulders squared. She pushed through the door and was gone.
New Waterford was a small town. You could walk from one end to the other in half an hour, so a few minutes later, she pulled up to the house and parked beside Shane Gallagher’s bike.
The petunias along the front of the porch looked wilted and she made a mental note to get the hose out later. The railing could use a good coat of paint as well, which was just one more thing to add to her list.
God, if the New York crowd she used to run with could see her now—though, domestic goddess wasn’t exactly something she was stellar at. None of the everyday things were getting done. Not since Bobbi had moved in with Shane. He’d inherited his grandfather’s place in the country, so she wasn’t exactly local anymore. Between Bobbi’s job and her love-life, there wasn’t a whole lot of time for anything else.
