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“We’ll have a Manhattan for me and...an extra dirty martini for the lady.” He smiled, no doubt remembering the first time he’d ordered her favorite drink.
The server nodded and disappeared to retrieve their drinks from the bar.
“I hope you don’t mind me ordering for you,” he said. “Did I get it right?”
“You did. I would’ve corrected you if not.”
Sutton smiled suggestively. “I’ll never forget that my lady likes it extra dirty.”
The server returned a moment later with their drinks and Sutton raised his glass to her. “I’d like to propose a toast, although this one will have to end differently than the last,” he drawled.
Lauren raised her own cocktail to join him.
“To the most talented chef I’ve ever met and her new, amazingly successful restaurant!”
She smiled and clinked her martini glass against his before taking a sip. “Thank you. I appreciate how much faith you have in me. I still can’t believe it’s happening. But I deposited Gracie’s check this morning and it cleared, so I guess I can stop pinching myself. I’ve never had that many zeroes in my business account before. Or my personal account. Or ever.”
Sutton matched her smile. “It’s nice, isn’t it? You’d better get used to it, though. I think your success is inevitable. Before long you’ll have that much and more in your account all the time. You’ll have plenty of staff to help you, and things will be easier. You’ll even be able to sell the food trucks and just focus on becoming the greatest chef in central Texas.”
Lauren stiffened slightly in her chair and took a large sip of her martini to disguise it. He mentioned it again. Selling the food trucks. They really did seem to bother him. She wondered how he would respond to finding out a sale sign wasn’t going up any time soon. She wanted to share her feelings with him, but not when she felt so insecure in their relationship. Not when she felt like he was constantly grooming her to be better and more successful.
“I may be able to hire some more staff and keep the trucks running. They’re fairly low overhead and do pretty good business. If nothing else, having them out at lunchtime and weekend evenings would be good advertisement for the restaurant.”
She expected him to react to her words, but instead he seemed to be focused on a group of men that had just come in the front door. They were chatting amongst themselves, but then they saw the two of them by the window. One nudged the other in the ribs and said something Lauren couldn’t hear. The three men laughed and went off in the other direction.
When she turned back to Sutton, it looked as though the blood had drained from his face. His easy smile had faded and he looked almost rattled for the first time since she’d known him. “What’s the matter? Who were those people?”
His jaw tightened and he shook his head. “They used to be friends of the family.”
“And now?” she asked.
“And now they’re not. Everyone wants to be your friend when you’re at the top. But when you get knocked to the ground...that’s when you find out who your friends really are. Those guys turned on Sebastian and me at the first opportunity. They almost seem to enjoy our suffering. Sick bastards.”
Lauren winced at his words. She supposed she was lucky to never have been in a position to have the kind of friends that used her up and left her when she was no good to them any longer. All she ever had to offer was friendship and the occasional home-cooked meal.
“I’m sorry, Sutton. At least you finally got to see their true colors.”
“Yeah,” he said, but she could tell his mind was far-off in thought.
“Sutton?”
He snapped his attention back to Lauren. “Would you excuse me for a moment? I’m going to run to the men’s room. Will you be okay alone?”
She wanted to say no, she wouldn’t be okay, but if he needed a minute to compose himself, she wouldn’t deny him that. “I’ll be fine. Go ahead.”
He nodded and finished off the rest of his drink before pushing back his chair and heading back toward the restroom. She watched him go, noticing that more than a few of the club patrons whispered to each other as he went by. She was beginning to think maybe she was right about the club and he was wrong. The people didn’t seem very friendly at all. At least not when your back was turned.
“Dunk Tank? Is that you?”
Lauren’s blood went icy cold in her veins at the mention of that horrid childhood nickname. She slowly turned in her seat toward the sound of a familiar woman’s voice. Just behind her, to the right, a couple women were sitting together at a nearby table.
She knew instantly which one of them had spoken. She was older and a little heavier with a shiny, Botox forehead, but Lauren would’ve known Kaylah anywhere. She wouldn’t soon forget the face of her tormentor, or the sound of her laughter as it mingled and echoed in the pool room with all the others.
Regrets flooded her mind instantly. She shouldn’t have turned at the sound of that stupid nickname. She should’ve worn a nicer outfit. Did more with her hair or her makeup before she came to a place like this. Sutton didn’t seem to care, but those sorts of things were like a woman’s armor sometimes, deflecting arrows fired by her enemies.
And Kaylah Anderson was definitely her enemy. Time hadn’t changed that one iota despite what Sutton seemed to think.
Lauren opted not to respond, but looked blankly at the woman. She didn’t want her to think she’d made as large of an impact on her as she had. “I’m sorry, were you speaking to me?” she asked.
