Perfect Regret (Bad Rep #2)(49)
Author: A. Meredith Walters

I jerked my thumb in Damien’s direction. “Ask Mr. Scared Me Shitless over here,” I said with more than a little rancor.

“Well, let’s hit the bathroom before heading upstairs and get you cleaned up,” Gracie said, looping her arm with mine and pulling me toward the Bakersville Times building. Damien followed closely behind us.

This was the friendliest Gracie had been towards me in weeks and it made me instantly suspicious.

“I’ll get you another coffee,” Damien said eagerly as Gracie and I headed to the restroom in the reception area.

“Don’t bother,” I told him grumpily. I was annoyed. Annoyed that I had ruined my favorite pair of dress pants. Annoyed that Maysie dropped her moving out bomb on me first thing this morning. Annoyed that I had caught Gracie yucking it up with Garrett like they were BFFs.

And most of all annoyed that Garrett hadn’t acknowledged me. Not a wave or a nod of his head. Just big fat nothin’, like I didn’t exist.

It hurt.

It shouldn’t hurt.

I had made myself pretty freaking clear on how I felt about him. But still…

Great, I had morphed into one of those girls. The wishy-washy kind. I hated those girls. I think I needed a time out. Either that or a swift kick up the butt.

Gracie pulled out a grip full of paper towels from the dispenser and handed them to me. I dabbed my pants but figured I’d just have to deal with smelling like stale coffee for the rest of the day.

I tossed the towels into the trash and was about to head out of the bathroom when Gracie touched my hand. “Can we talk for a minute before going up?” she asked me.

Gracie looked like a vulnerable little girl but she was one of the fiercest bitches I knew. I knew she could be maliciously cruel or have your back in a cage fight. It was hard to tell which Gracie I’d have the pleasure of conversing with.

“Sure, what’s up?” I asked, figuring feigning ignorance my best solution at this point.

“First thing, how are you holding up? You know with your dad and all that?” Gracie asked and I relaxed a bit. Maybe we wouldn’t be having a chick fight in the bathroom.

“Eh, I have my days. Thanks for asking,” I said sincerely. I hoped this was a sign that our weirdness was at an end.

“I know things have been weird between us,” Gracie stated, reading my mind.

I laughed uncomfortably. “Weird like wearing different color of socks or weird like hanging out with your grandma at prom?” I asked.

“Uh, definitely grandma weird,” Gracie giggled and I felt myself relax a little bit more. This was good. We were being almost normal. Maybe our relationship wasn’t completely messed up.

Gracie’s eyes twinkled strangely and she had me off balance again. This was not the friend I was used to. This girl reminded me of the person I loathed before we had formed a friendship. The evil sorority girl that I wanted to eradicate from the planet Godzilla style.

“But it shouldn’t be, Riley. Garrett explained everything. He said it was a mistake. That the two of you would never be together. That he didn’t even like you enough to be friends,” she giggled even as she ripped me a new one.

“So that’s the plan? For you and I to snark out over a dude? Really? Because I’m not in the mood,” I said tiredly.

The bizarre gleam in Gracie’s eye disappeared and her face softened. She looked ashamed. “No, Riley. That’s ridiculous. You are one of my best friends. I just don’t want things to be uncomfortable. Garrett is just a friend. And you guys don’t even talk. So there’s no reason for us to tiptoe around him like he’s a stick of dy***ite about to go off. Just promise me you won’t keep stuff from me in the future,” Gracie said, giving me a more genuine smile.

“Of course,” I placated, wanting the conversation over with. We stood there in awkward silence for a few more seconds until I started to develop a serious case of claustrophobia.

“We’d better get upstairs,” I said, making my way to the door.

“Yeah, we should. But let’s grab a drink after this. It’s been too long since we’ve done anything together,” Gracie suggested.

“Sure, sounds good,” I said distractedly, ready to put this strange discussion behind me.

Coming out of the bathroom, I found Damien waiting with another Styrofoam cup of coffee. I tried to be irritated with him. His need to make me happy was desperate and left a bad taste in my mouth. We had been there done that and I had the battle wounds to prove it.

“I’ve got to catch Garrett before I head up. Just tell Diane I’ll be right there,” Gracie said, heading off to another wing of the building.

My teeth clenched together painfully but I refused to comment.

So what? Gracie had to talk to Garrett. She had just said they were friends. Friends talk. Plus I didn’t care. Garrett could talk to whomever he wanted to.

And if I silently debated this out any longer, I’d look certifiably crazy.

I took the cup from Damien and gave him a smile. “You wanna come have a few drinks with Gracie and me after work?” I asked him. His face lit up and I felt the stirrings of warning in my gut. But I ignored it. I was through letting my gut do the talking around here.

“I’d love to,” he said, giving me that warm smile of his that used to make me melt. I was impervious to it now, but it still felt good to be in a place where I could accept that smile without bitterness.

I needed to focus on something, somebody that wasn’t Garrett freaking Bellows and the ambiguous status of his bed partner.

“Great,” I said with more conviction than I felt. We walked to the elevator together and I refused to question the sanity of my decisions.

“You invited Damien? Why?” Gracie asked as we drove to Hillbilly Tom’s, another local bar in Bakersville after our internship was over for the day. It was already six-thirty and I was ready for a drink or five.

I had been forced to cover a local flower show. Rioting good time it was not. Coming up with a hundred different ways to describe floral arrangements was not what I wanted out of my journalism career.

Damien had gotten to cover a fifteen-car pile up on the highway while Gracie had been invited to sit in on a court case involving a local dog-fighting ring.

And I had been handed the flower assignment. The gods were flipping me the bird that’s for sure.

I pulled in beside Damien at Hillbilly’s and cut off my car.

“I don’t know. I just offered. I thought it would be the nice thing to do,” I said, not feeling the need to explain myself. Actually I knew the reason I had extended the invitation and it had nothing to do with Damien.