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He’s good for business, that much is true. Knowing Trey, he probably invited the women inside and encouraged them to buy something just to help out, because that was the kind of man he was.
He was a good man, more than a pretty face and incredible physique. A man any woman would be lucky to have, and I’d tossed him away, on purpose. Because of Rodney.
“No,” I uttered the word out loud and shook my head. It wasn’t Rodney’s fault, not truly. I’d let his leaving affect me in ways it shouldn’t, ways that were completely unfair to Trey and that was on me.
Sick and tired of my own thoughts, I waited until half past noon before I risked leaving the studio. I peeked out, I looked left and then right to make sure there were no groupies and no signs of the living before I made my escape. My destination was close, less than two hundred yards away. I could slip into the diner, order a steak salad and eat it back at the studio.
Alone.
This was the problem with relationships. You got used to a person, used to having them around, their smell and even their smile. The whole world is brighter, more vibrant and more beautiful during that time. And then they’re just gone, quickly, as if they’d never been there at all.
Morose, much?
I straightened my shoulders and walked down the street to the diner. The bell above the diner door chimed as I entered, and I could see the regulars seated along the counter and a few booths scattered throughout, but the sizzle of awareness I felt told me that Trey hadn’t gone home for the day. My eyes roamed the diner until they connected with his.
He sat at a back booth laughing as he chatted with a man with salt and pepper hair, trimmed short and styled. I didn’t recognize the man from the back, not his broad shoulders or the red and black flannel he wore. Even his laugh was foreign to me. I wondered if it was one of his friends or business associates from the modeling world. Why do I care?
Because you do, that annoying inner voice answered back smugly. And that voice was right, because I couldn’t look away from Trey’s smiling face, the plain white t-shirt he wore that showed off his biceps. Damn, but he sure was gorgeous. Then, a heartbeat later his gaze landed on mine. In that moment his smile slipped just for a moment, and then he looked away.
It was over. Well and truly over.
I couldn’t look away, even after that vague dismissal. No matter how much I told my legs to move towards the counter, to place my order and end my torture, they wouldn’t listen.
Thankfully the chime over the door sounded again and I felt the heat of another person, a hand on my shoulder.
“He’s pretty to look at honey,” Lacey’s Tennessee twang sounded softly in my ear, “but you can’t just stand here and stare, not with all the old timers watching you in search of the newest piece of gossip to spread around town.”
Nothing could have gotten my legs moving faster than Lacey’s reminder that I would be the star of the afternoon’s gossip train if I didn’t stop staring like a lovesick fool.
“Right. Thanks.” It was bad enough the sympathetic looks and widow casseroles had just ended. I didn’t need another reason to end up on the Carson Creek grapevine.
“You still haven’t fixed things, Val?”
I shook my head and cast another look over my shoulder at Trey, and I finally caught a glimpse of the handsome older man with him. “Sadly, no. It might be too late for that now. Who’s the silver fox?”
Lacey groaned and rolled her eyes. “That’s Levi, award-winning journalist and my new employee.”
“Big ego?”
“No,” she growled. “He’s great. Gorgeous and talented, and he gave it all up to come help his daughter with his grandson.”
“Oh, you like him. Got it.”
Lacey turned to me with fury in her big almond-shaped blue eyes. “I do not like him,” she half whispered, half growled at me. “He’s annoying. I mean, he’s fine,” she sighed. “But Dad thinks he’s the cat’s meow.”
I laughed, the sound drew a few stares from the diners. “Cat’s meow? Someone has been spending too much time at the senior home.”
“The seniors are better company than my empty house when Stevie is out with her friends or at cheerleading tournaments.” Lacey shrugged, but I recognized the sadness in her blue eyes, the fear mixed with sadness that loneliness was something she’d be staring down for the rest of her life. “Come on, let’s go ruin their lunch hour.” She grabbed my hand and tugged me along, practically dancing between tables in her glee to get to the table.
“No, Lacey. Come on. This is beneath us, we’re grown women. Over forty grown,” I emphasized the last part in hopes it would stop her.
