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“Um… hold on. I’ll follow you there.”
Liam is waiting for me, watching the two of us back and forth. I’m not sure what to say. Okay, more like what the hell is happening?
“Wesley, nice to see you.” My expression is professional, smile intact with a polite greeting. “This is Liam. We’re all heading out to dinner. Everyone’s starving, so I suggested the Chinese place around the corner. I tell you what, their Peking duck is mouthwatering…”
My nervous ramble slows down as Wesley’s expression doesn’t change, he’s paralyzed with anger. He hasn’t moved an inch, nor said a word, standing eerily still in his designer ripped jeans, black tee, and Adidas sneakers. I hate that he looks so sexy.
Liam extends his hand, waiting patiently for Wesley, who shakes it moments later. “So, you’re a friend of Milly’s.”
“If you say so.”
“Okay, so we better head off… unless you want to join us?”
Wesley smirks, dismissing Liam’s respectful tone. A far cry from his jealous stance when I mentioned Charlie’s name earlier. “Sure, why not.”
It’s the most awkward five-minute walk around the block. I spend most of the time staring at the pavement, occasionally engaging in idle chit-chat, and the moment I see the place, I breathe a huge sigh of relief, slipping inside to the table and sitting beside Flynn. Then, I realize it means Wesley and Liam will have to sit next to each other.
With much reluctance, I swap seats so Liam’s next to Flynn, and I’m piggy in the middle.
After a quick introduction between Flynn, the bandmates, and Wesley, we order food and throw ourselves into random conversations. Liam and Flynn talk about music and life back home, distracted as they reminisce about old times while Wesley sits in silence.
I lean forward, playing with my napkin and whispering into the dessert menu that I purposely raise to cover my face. “You didn’t say you’d be back.”
“It’s amazing what you can come back to without warning.”
“Wesley…” I continue with a low voice, “… let me explain, later.”
Mrs. Ling brings out the dishes, sizzling with steam coming off the plates. There’s the famous duck, egg rolls, classic orange chicken, and something that looks rather questionable.
We each serve ourselves before Liam decides to open the conversation. “How do you know each other?”
I’m quick to jump in, praying that Wesley doesn’t say anything about our encounters. “Work. Wesley and Emerson run a business, so we only hang out for business stuff.” The lie travels nicely and dissolves into my talk about Emerson’s new line until Wesley opens his mouth. “I wouldn’t say just business,” he mutters with a trace of sarcasm.
“Hey, now I know where I’ve seen you from. You played guitar with Hanlon Marx.” Flynn is oblivious to the back-and-forth tension going on with a mouthful of duck and pointing his fork at Wesley.
“You play guitar?” I ask rather loudly. “How did I not know that?”
“I thought you said you only discuss business,” Liam voices with a jealous bite.
I backtrack through my words, anxiety building from this awkward meal setting. “Yes, Wesley is in the media a fair bit, and I read an article on Emerson and um…”
“Emerson and I were engaged,” Wesley adds with too much enjoyment. “A great woman.”
Wait, Emerson is a great woman. Yes, she is.
But what the hell was that?
I feel my blood begin to boil, a raging fire threatening to burn any of my sensibility. I’m not dumb, aware this is some childish game to goad a reaction from me, but the temptation to bite back is too great to ignore.
“Engaged to Emerson. Your boss, Emerson?” Liam asks, confused.
“They were engaged, but Wesley screwed up, and now they’re not.” I dig into my chicken, trying to control my anger. “So, what do you need tonight, anyway? The contracts are signed, and there’s nothing left to do.”
“Milana, you sound agitated. Did I say or do something?”
I turn to face him, composing my jealousy as he gazes back with an irritating grin. The color of his eyes soften, if only for a moment, or perhaps that’s what I want to see.
You don’t know what you want.
