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“I didn’t. Setting the spoon down, she wiped her hand on her loudly geometric-patterned shirt and reached across the table. “I’m Tabitha, but everyone calls me Tabby. And you are?”
“Vivian,” she returned politely and gave her hand a quick pump. So much for ‘practically’ knowing her.
“That’s an unusual name.”
“My parents are usual people.”
Tabby’s red head bobbed slowly. “Well my husband thinks Sasha here was an unusual choice for a boy, but then I reminded him of that Cohen guy in Hollywood, and he shut right up.”
“Oh yeah, I think I remember a male actor named Sasha on an old family sitcom.” She used to watch it all the time when she was a teen. One of her few guilty pleasures growing up.
“So Nash—”
A bottle of water slid in front of Vivian, cutting their conversation short. Vivian took the bottle, prepared to crack it open and drink deep, but the voice beside her stopped her in her tracks and sent a shiver of warning skating down her spine.
“You look flushed, dear.”
Andrew.
“Are you stalking me?” Vivian gritted out.
“Stalking?” he scoffed. When she felt his hand on her shoulder, Vivian cringed and jerked away. He continued on as if nothing was amiss. “It’s so hot today, and I know how you get in the heat. I must say, though, I’m surprised to see you at an event like this.”
“Would you just, like, disappear?”
Tabby’s shocked expression but inability to look away made Vivian feel even more uncomfortable. If the town was already talking, they would have a well that ran miles deep to draw from after this.
“I already told you my conditions,” Andrew replied casually.
“I already toldyouI’ll take care of it Monday.” She was not about to allow a potential oversight—that was quickly starting to look like a definite oversight—on her part to derail what she was trying to build now.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Tabby inserted herself.
Vivian wanted to slap her. She’d captured Andrew’s attention, and he was just the type to capitalize on it.
“I’m sorry, where are my manners.” He thrust his hand out. “I’m Andrew DeBois, Vivian’s husband.”
Tabby’s hand, caught mid-shake, stilled, and she appeared a deer in the headlights, her wide, doe-like eyes darting back and forth between them. “You’re…married?”
Vivian wanted to die. Just what she needed, a reputation to tarnish her fresh start.
“I thought you said he was lying.” A voice said from behind her, and Vivian jerked around, horror filling her. There he stood, her handsome cowboy, holding two bottles of water and wearing a stony expression that hid every emotion…unless you knew what to look for. It was the storm brewing behind those blue eyes that told her just how angry and betrayed he felt.
“Nash, it’s not what you think. I thought he was lying, but now…” His expression made it clear she wasn’t getting through to him. “I was going to explain,” she rushed out, her hands held out in front of her as if that would somehow buffer the blow of his rejection.
Gretta was right, she should have said something. She should have said itsooner. But how could she have anticipated Andrew barreling in and ruining her chance?
“Actually, this explains everything,” he said, too calm for her comfort. He set the bottles on the table and glanced at Andrew and then Vivian. “It’s all pretty clear now. Sorry to have gotten in the way. I hope you two are happy together.”
“Nash,” Vivian said weakly as he turned and walked away. She desperately wanted to call him back, to explain everything, but she knew how bad this looked, and with the way he must be feeling inside? Well, if it were her, she’d want some space and time to think.
Also, if it were her, she knew what her decision would be: never to see her again.
Nash’s dark form was swallowed by the crowd in moments, leaving Vivian staring at strangers and with an ache in her chest that left her feeling hollowed out and breathless.
She thought she’d known what heartbreak felt like when she’d walked in on Andrew in bed with another man, but it had nothing on this.
“Fine, Andrew,” she said in defeat, “you win. I’ll come back.”
