Page 68 of In the Gray


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I was not surprised to learn that Lachlan was fun, even outgoing, and well loved by his coworkers. The two of them recounted nights out, and she told him about customers who’d asked after him.

It was like the parts of his life that were lost had been found, making him come alive again with possibility. I loved seeing it, even if it made me feel a bit unsettled. We were officially a couple now, but I still didn’t know when or if he would decide to go off on his own. I was ready to look for apartments with him if that was what he needed—he just had to say the word, and I’d support him.

He had made other decisions, though. Like not to take the job at Le Chic, instead starting the evening dishwashing position at the restaurant. It was hard work, he came home late and tired, but I could tell he finally felt productive, even if it wasn’t the job he’d hoped for. Another downside was that the pay was minimum wage, which didn’t give him the opportunity to be independent yet. Still, he insisted on paying for groceries and his phone bill. He wanted so desperately to feel like he was making it on his own, and more than likely, all that was holding him back from making a decision about our living arrangement.

In the meantime, I was giving him space and reveling in any time we could spend together when we weren’t like passing ships in the night due to our differing work hours.

As we dug into our food, Marcie said, “I like the hair and beard. You look good, even after being through a horrible year—for which I feel partly responsible.”

“What could you have done?” Lachlan asked, but I knew he was only being polite. He’d spent countless nights mulling over how he’d lost everything, and I didn’t blame him.

“For one, I could’ve pleaded your case so you wouldn’t be fired.” She grimaced. “Let you stay at my place for longer.”

Lachlan had shared that he left not only because he overstayed his welcome on Marcie’s couch, but because Clint knew exactly where to find him, muddying the waters for all of them.

Lachlan shook his head. “I know how charismatic he can be, so don’t beat yourself up too much. I was also under his spell, or should I say thumb?”

I reached for his hand. “We all have stuff we regret.”

Marcie nodded. “I don’t want to make the same mistake again. So when I ran into Clint and the new boyfriend, Jeremy, at an opening in town, I told Jeremy he can always call me if he needs anything, and gave him my number.”

“Slick,” Lachlan replied, but he also looked a little green. “Do you think he knew what you were getting at?”

She shrugged. “I waited until Clint was out of earshot, so maybe he figured it out.”

I said, “At the very least, maybe you got him thinking.” One could only hope. Unless Jeremy and Clint were still in the honeymoon period of their relationship. But according to Lachlan, there had been warning signs in the beginning too.

“Is it awkward between you and Clint now?” Lachlan asked. Apparently, Marcie hadn’t confronted him, but was actively avoiding him.

“Understatement.” Marcie winced, then looked at me. “I know Clint through my parents. Our families lived on the same street when we were kids, and we all remained friends.”

“Clint had encouraged me to apply to the salon,” Lachlan explained to me. “Marcie and I hit it off right away.”

“We did,” she said with a grin. “I talked to Mom, told her how I was feeling about Clint, asked her to help me make sense of everything. He had always been competitive as a kid, and a spoilsport, but that doesn’t explain the kind of adult he turned into. At least not all of it.”

“Sounds like he turned into the worst kind of bully,” I said.

Marcie had twisted her napkin into a shredded mess, which gave a clue as to how torn up inside she felt about the whole thing. “My mom was shocked, to say the least.”

“How is Dottie doing?” Lachlan asked with affection, the way an old friend would.

“She’s good. I almost told her we were in contact again, but I promised you I would keep it confidential.”

“I appreciate that.” He stole a glance at me. “Especially after running into Clint downtown.”

“I still can’t believe that happened. Or maybe I can.” She frowned. “Oscar must’ve read his energy.”

“That’s my theory too,” I said. “Lachlan is probably more Oscar’s person than I am.”

“Hey, that’s not true.” Lachlan squeezed my knee under the table.

“No, it’s okay. It’s actually really sweet.” I pressed our thighs together. “Besides, had it not been for Oscar, I wouldn’t have met Lachlan.”

Marcie’s eyebrows drew together. “Did Oscar really keep sniffing around you?”

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