AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Meghan is still very much present in my mind and in this restaurant.
“We were discussing after dinner,” Rhenn says, giving me another look. I know what’s coming. It’s not my first ride as the infamous Rhenn Burleski’s wingman. It’s the reason we rode together so that when my friend and his date are ready to get to the more naked part of the night, they’d drive off into the sunset, leaving me behind to hitch a ride with the fourth wheel in this operation. And lest we forget, my friend is hoping I’ll get my dick played with tonight, so he thinks he’s doing me a great service by leaving me at the restaurant with no mode of transportation.
Good times.
“So what are the plans?” I ask, knowing that I’m not going to like them.
“Well, Shelli and I have…someplace to be.” The insinuation is so evident that the deaf man down the block could pick up on it. “And since you rode with me, I figured Becca could take you home.”
Called it.
“That’s not necessary,” I reply just as our food is delivered to the table. “I don’t want to put Becca out.”
“It would be no problem,” she chimes in, offering me a friendly, half-drunk smile over her glass. One that says she’d be up for a round of bedroom aerobics if I’d offer. To confirm my suspicions, she reaches over and rests her hand on my thigh.
Tensing in my seat, I reach for my fork, ready to dive into the food. The faster I eat, the sooner we’ll be finished with this double date from Hell and I’ll be home with a beer and Sports Center. Becca removes her hand, grabs her own fork, and begins to eat her dinner.
Conversations are had around me, but I don’t pay them any attention or actively participate anymore than the occasional grunt or head nod. My mind keeps wandering (and my eyes too) over to where Meghan sits with some guy. I can already tell I don’t like him. He’s too preppy, too pretty in his pressed blue jeans, for her.
I continue to watch her body language, not really liking what I see. She never really relaxes or seems to be enjoying herself, and a few times, I even catch her spinning the ring that she still wears on her left hand. Sure, the guy in front of her probably has no idea, what, with her fake smiles and bright green eyes, but I can tell. She’s not herself. I know this because she’s my friend – my employee – and it’s my job (as a friend) to know these kinda things.
Our dinner is cleared away as hers is delivered. She slowly picks at her food, moving it around on her plate as if she weren’t hungry. This isn’t Meghan. My Meghan loves Mexican food. It’s why we order takeout at the office from this place at least once a week.
“Is that who I think it is?” Rhenn asks, drawing my attention to his face. But he’s looking off to my left in the same direction as Meghan’s table.
“Who’s that?” Becca asks, peering around me to get a good look.
“Ex-girlfriend?” Shelli asks, glancing at her friend with wide eyes.
“No, she’s my dental hygienist,” I answer, looking around for the waitress so I can get the check.
“Oh, that’s right, you’re a doctor!” Shelli exclaims, leaning forward and setting her store-bought boobs on the table.
“A dentist, really,” I reply, though not out of necessity. I’m honestly not sure Shelli knows the difference.
“Yes, a doctor,” Becca replies, her hand sliding up my arm, her nails digging into my forearm. “That’s so sexy,” she adds, whispering in my ear.
Before I can reply, I see Meghan get up from the table, excuse herself, and make a mad dash toward the ladies’ room like her ass were on fire. The guy she’s with turns and watches her go, the gentle sway of said ass hypnotizing most of the men in the room.
I completely understand.
But I’m not focusing on her ass right now. I need to find out why Meghan is so upset, and what in the hell she’s doing here tonight with the guy who looks like he could model sports coats and expensive watches for a living.
“Excuse me, please. I’m going to use the restroom,” I say, dropping my napkin on the table and dislodging Becca’s nails from my arm.
I make my way to the opposite side of the restaurant and slip down the short hallway that leads to both restrooms. Waiting outside the door like some crazy ex-boyfriend stalker, it only takes Meghan a few minutes before she reappears in the hall and almost walks into me.
“Sorry,” she mumbles, taking a step back. That’s when realization sets in. “Oh, hey. What are you doing here?”
“I’m here with friends,” I tell her. “I saw you across the room and you looked, I don’t know, upset, I guess. I just wanted to make sure everything was all right.”
“Oh,” she says, offering me a sad smile, her eyes filling with tears. “I…” she starts, but stops.
“Are you okay? Is it the sport coat model? Did he do or say something to upset you?” My protective big brother instincts flare to life, though this crazy attraction I feel for Meghan is anything but brotherly.
She gives me a look. “Do you mean Adam?”
“Adam. Joe. Richard. Does it matter? Do I need to go have a word with him?” A word that involves respect and ladies and why I’m about to throw my fist into his pretty face.
