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Whether it’s because Abel can see his friend’s cut jaw ticking like a time bomb or because he can feel the tension that has rose once more at the table, doesn’t matter nearly as much as his forceful insistence. “Take it, man. I’ll watch your tables for a few.”
Tate nods in appreciation while I begin to rise to my feet, putting the napkin down on the table.
“Should we order you a drink?” Crue politely inquires. “Maybe one of these pear martinis like Daniel and I have?”
“She hates pears,” my boyfriend states, tone seething.
“That must be new,” Daniel off handedly retorts
Tate’s scoff is venomous. “It’s not.”
My ex brushing past the comment without a response thankfully occurs, “Want me to order you an app?”
“I’d appreciate that. I’m starving.”
He makes a second attempt to lighten the mood. “It’s a good thing I know all the things you like.”
“Not anymore,” Tate snidely remarks causing Daniel’s eyebrows to launch to the ceiling.
“Yeah, you need a timeout,” I mumble under my breath while physically ushering him away from the table. “Like a big one.”
“I’m not a fucking child,” he mutters back in exasperation.
“Then act like a fucking adult and have this conversation with me in private rather than in the middle of your workplace like we’re filming some shitty Michigan version of Temptation Island.”
“Eres la que no puedes dejar el come mierda ex marido de ella solo.”
Having him call Daniel terrible in Spanish is one thing but implying that I’m still hung up on him tonight of all fucking nights is the wrong goddamn move.
We eventually make our way into the employees only hallway which is where my internal outrage is finally allowed to become outward. “What the fuck is your problem tonight?”
“You!” He barks without hesitation. “You’re the one who came into my place of business with your bloody ex-husband on your arm like you’re still fucking married to the bloke!”
“Excuse me?”
“He had no business touching you like he did!”
“He helped me with my fucking coat!”
“You don’t know how to take off your own coat now like the adult woman you feel the need to repeatedly remind me that you are every bloody chance you get?”
Anger churns my stomach adding to the lingering nausea that’s already there.
“I have made my feelings about Daniel in your life crystal clear, Harper.” The pointed finger my direction receives a sneering stare. “The least you could bloody do is not parade Dr. Fucking Perfect around here without giving me a warning! The least you could bloody do is give me a chance to save face in front of my fucking coworkers! In front of yours! I know I may not be as incredible as all the surgeons and the lawyers and bloody interior decorators you’re so busy dining around the city with, but I still deserve a chance to have some dignity. Coño! Where’s your goddamn respect for me?!”
“Where’s your goddamn respect for me, huh?” I loudly screech, voice echoing off the walls. “Where’s the fucking trust?!”
He cracks his jaw open yet doesn’t dare say anything.
“I fucking texted you to tell you we were coming! Check your phone.”
His hand slides into his pocket, face falling at the sight of unread messages from me.
“And for the record, I didn’t pick the fucking restaurant tonight, and the second that they had, I texted to tell you I’d be in with work people including Daniel. I even fucking texted you before walking through the goddamn door telling you to come by and say hi to me! Why would I do any of that shit if I was trying to ‘parade an affair’ around behind your fucking back?!”
His mouth momentarily bobs in speechlessness.
“How fucking stupid do you think I am?!”
