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“I don’t think it’s how long we’ve known each other that makes the difference. More like how well we know each other.”
Jagger’s eyes flashed. “I don’t know, buddy. You can’t be that important to her if I’ve never even heard of you.”
The edge of Donovan’s lip twitched, and he conveyed so much more with that miniscule movement than most people got across with a full-blown smirk. “Well, I don’t know about that. I’d say you can’t be that important to her if she’s keeping secrets. But that’s just me. And I’m not your buddy.”
Jagger leaned back, face tight. “No need to get agro, dude. Uncalled for. Seriously not kosher.”
Ella couldn’t take the tension anymore. She turned and pushed Jagger out of the booth, wriggling out after him as fast as she could. “I gotta go!” she blurted.
“Where?” Jagger said, surprise written all over his features.
“Gotta re-open the store. I forgot that, um, a tour bus is coming through in a bit. They, uh…called me. They called me earlier to make sure we’d be open. I’ve gotta go.”
Jagger’s jaw tightened and he rolled his eyes. God, how had she never seen before what an utter jerk wad he clearly was? Gen had seen it, and she’d never even met him. “Ella, at least don’t lie. Do me that courtesy. You owe me that. Basic human decency. Just be straight with me.”
She stood still, her words frozen in her throat. Not because she didn’t know what she wanted to say, but just because it was tough to find a diplomatic way to phrase, I realize now what a giant asshole you are and I can’t stand it for even one more minute.
After a few seconds of silence, though, he turned and dramatically huffed, “Don’t call me,” then stormed out the front door.
Ella stared after him as the glass door shut, not quite processing what she’d just seen. Damn. The last hour or so had held a lot of things that her brain was finding difficult to process.
“Well,” Donovan said, his deadpan voice breaking into her reverie, “I guess he told you.”
She stared at him for a moment, wide-eyed, and then saw his lip twitch again. She burst out laughing, and still had her head thrown back when Grace came over, order pad poised.
“My goodness, I’m late to the party,” Grace said, an affectionate smile on her face.
Ella wiped her eyes and took a deep breath, calming her laughter. “Oh, no. No party.” She turned to Donovan and continued, her tone apologetic, “I really do need to go, though, I think. All of this…I mean…it’s a lot. You know?”
He nodded. “I do know. Go. I’ll see you at softball.”
She smiled gratefully and hustled toward the door, all of a sudden aching to be back in the solitude and comforting sameness of her shop, where hopefully she could put some of these pieces together in her mind.
Just before she was fully out the door, though, she heard Donovan say, “Grace, can you deliver an order to Ella at her shop a little later? I don’t think she’s eaten today. Burger extra ketchup, fries extra crispy, Coke extra ice. Just add it to my bill.”
Her heart clenched again as she walked along the sidewalk. That was Donovan. Her Donovan. Even in a situation as bizarre as this one, he was taking care of her. And, God, how she’d missed it.
