You Were Mine (Page 49)

You Were Mine (Rosemary Beach #9)(49)
Author: Abbi Glines

“Well, I think it’s a great idea. I’ve played around with the thought more than once. But I never did anything because I have my hands full with the club. But I stand behind you. The property isn’t technically for sale, but for you and for this, it is,” Woods said.

I looked to Grant. I needed to hear his reply next.

“Heck, yeah. It’s what I do. Bring it on. I love the idea,” Grant said.

Standing up, I couldn’t keep the grin off my face. “I want to move fast. I have to deal with some other things. I’ll handle any extra cost to speed the paperwork along.”

“No need. I’ll make it happen fast.”

Bethy

I stood at the door leading into the dining room. Tripp was in my section with a woman I didn’t know. It had been five days since I walked out of his apartment. He hadn’t called me, he hadn’t texted, and until today, I hadn’t seen him at the club.

In those five days, I had gone through the motions, but my heart wasn’t in it. Last night, I had finally broken down and sobbed until I fell asleep. He had been so easy to push away. But then, hadn’t he left me before and not looked back? When was I going to stop believing the man? Did he have to crush me over and over again first?

Jimmy was headed my way, and I backed up and waited around the corner, out of sight from the dining room.

“Chick’s old. Like in her late forties old. He ain’t hitting that shit. Something’s up, but it ain’t what you think. Wipe that pitiful look off your face and shake it loose, girl. Walk out there and strut your stuff, and show that man what he’s missing. Don’t act like he hurt you. Don’t act like you miss him. And stop thinking he’s on a date. Tripp’s fine ass ain’t messing around with that woman. Seriously, she could be his mom.”

He was serious. I hadn’t gotten close enough to see her. From the back, she had nice hair and legs. I couldn’t tell about anything else. “Are you sure she’s older?” I asked, praying he was right. If I walked out there and he was flirting with this woman, I was going to burst into a million pieces right in front of everyone. My heart could only take so much.

“Trust me, Bethy, it’s not what you think. Swear it, baby. Go get their drink orders. And when you walk away, shake that ass. He’ll be looking. You know how to strut. Do it.” Jimmy winked and walked past me toward the kitchen.

I took a deep breath and prayed I didn’t lose it out there and do something crazy, like cry. I could do this. Jimmy said she was older. Maybe she was a relative. Truth was, I did want to see him. I missed him.

Before I could get worked up again, I headed for the door and went to his table. He was talking and had a serious expression on his face. Almost as if he was discussing a business matter. Which made no sense. He didn’t have any business matters.

His eyes glanced up, and he stopped talking as they locked on mine. He was surprised to see me working the dining room during lunch, since I didn’t usually. He knew that. But there was also a hungry look there. Like he had wanted to see me as much as I wanted to see him. Which couldn’t be the truth, because he hadn’t called.

“What will you be drinking today?” I asked as I stepped up to the table. I was supposed to share the specials first, but my tongue was so tied I didn’t even try.

I looked directly at the woman. She glanced at the menu she hadn’t opened yet, then up at me. “Sparkling water for now,” she replied. Jimmy was right. She was way too old for Tripp.

I turned my attention to Tripp, and he was still looking at me like I was his last meal. “Hey,” he said simply.

What did I do with that? He’d ignored me for a week. I’d pushed him for answers about our future, and he’d backed away. Closed me off. Now this? “Hello, Tripp,” I managed to get out.

“Uh, yeah, I’ll have a Coke,” he said. I nodded and turned to leave, and his hand closed around my arm. “Wait.”

I couldn’t make a scene in here, but I wanted to jerk my arm away and run. Turning back around, I noticed the lady beside him watching us with interest.

“Bethy, I want to introduce you to someone.”

What? He was introducing me to the strange woman. Why? I wasn’t sure what he wanted me to say to that, so I remained quiet.

He looked at the lady. “Quinn, this is Bethy. I mentioned her to you earlier. Bethy, this is Quinn. She’s an interior designer. She does all the decorating here at the club,” he explained.

OK. Odd. I nodded and smiled at her. I was sure she wasn’t interested in being introduced to the help. Her smile, however, was very genuine. She held out her hand to me. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Bethy. Tripp’s told me so much about you.”

The surprise on my face was hard to mask. My emotions felt raw and open at this point, because he was making no sense at all. You would have thought I had just crawled out of his bed this morning and kissed him before coming to work. Not that I’d been completely ignored for five days.

I shook her hand and mumbled something before getting the hell out of there.

Jimmy was waiting for me with his hands on his hips as he peeked around the corner. “So who is it?” he asked.

“The interior designer Woods hires to decorate stuff, I guess. I have no idea what that was about. She acted like she knew who I was and shook my hand. I swear, Jimmy, I think I need to start taking anxiety meds. Tripp is fucking with my head, and I don’t think I can take much more.”

Jimmy pulled me into his arms and patted my back. “There, there, Bethy. I’m a pro at this. It’s all gonna be OK. I’ve watched Blaire and Della go through this. Just hang in there.”

I leaned back and looked at him. “Blaire and Della had men in their lives who worshipped the ground they walked on. This is so not the same.”

Jimmy cocked an eyebrow at me. “Bethy, love, you need to snap out of it. Open your eyes, girl. That man is so obsessed with you he can’t see straight.”

If only.

I didn’t argue with him. I walked past him and into the kitchen to get their drinks.

Tripp’s eyes never left me. When I was in the dining room, they followed me everywhere. It was a miracle I hadn’t dumped food on someone. I had taken their orders without making eye contact and refilled their drinks with a smile. By the time they were almost done with their meal, I was so tightly strung my head was hurting.

I massaged my temples and rested my head back against the wall. I didn’t get off until six, and I could not afford a headache. When migraines hit me, I got sick. This could not happen. Not today.