“Chloe?”
Oh, God. Why me? What did I ever do to you?
I clenched my eyes shut, hoping against hope that I was just hearing things, that the noisy crowd around us was playing tricks on my ears, no such luck.
“Chloe? That you?”
“Derrick, hey,” I said with false enthusiasm as I looked over my shoulder at him and Carla.
Derrick’s grin was much more open and enthusiastic than mine was, and it was a struggle to ignore the way my stomach fluttered at the sight of it. It didn’t mean anything other than he was happy to see a friend. He had another woman on his arm, after all. And besides, I was no longer Sad Sack Chloe, who moped around feeling sorry for herself. I was on a date. With Austin. Who was lucky I agreed. I just wouldn’t think about the fact that said date already seemed to be going horribly wrong.
“What are you doing here?” he asked with genuine curiosity as he leaned — away from Carla — and placed a feather light kiss on my cheek. I couldn’t help but notice the way Carla’s eyes narrowed into angry slits as she took me in, top to toe, before she looked at the hostess and blew her a kiss. In everything that had been going on, I’d forgotten she mentioned she was friends with Bitch-Face, and that’s how she’d gotten the table.
“I’m… uh, well,” I coughed uncomfortably as Austin turned away from the bitch-faced hostess and noticed we had company. He placed his hand possessively around my waist in a way I did not like as he gave Derrick the same look Carla had just given me. “I’m actually on a date.”
Derrick’s gaze bounced between me and Austin, and I wasn’t positive, but if the tick in his jaw and the pulsing vein in his forehead was anything to go on, he was not happy. And I wasn’t too proud to admit that gave me a little thrill.
“A guy from the internet?” Derrick asked through clenched teeth.
I ignored his question, choosing instead to get introductions out of the way. “Um, Derrick, this is Austin. Austin, my friend Derrick. We were actually just leaving. Turns out we couldn’t get a table.” I reached back and took Austin’s hand, not in an affectionate way, but in one that would hopefully spur his ass to move. Derrick’s gaze honed in on our clasped hands before he shot a look at the hostess.
“They can sit with us.”
“What?” I squeaked.
“What?” Carla snapped.
“What?” the hostess sneered.
“Derrick,” Carla purred, placing her hand on his chest as she batted her eyes up at him. This is supposed to be a really romantic place. Don’t you want it to just be the two of us?”
Ignoring her question, he looked back at Bitch-Face. “Does our table seat four?”
“Well…” she sputtered. “Yes, but—”
He cut her off. “Perfect. Then we’ll all fit. We’re ready to be seated now.”
Bitch-Face collected our menus and led us all back to the table. It was official, I was in hell.
10
Chloe
The seating arrangements at our small round table were less than ideal, with me sandwiched between Austin and Derrick and Carla staring daggers at me from across the table. And the tension couldn’t have been any worse if my parents had somehow materialized out of thin air and told the story of the time they walked in on Brandon Adame and me grinding against each other while fully clothed.
“So, Austin,” Derrick started. Oh damn. “What is it that you do?”
“I’m a personal trainer and nutritionist,” he answered brightly. I smiled over at him just so I wouldn’t seem like a bitch. Just because I had no intention of going on another date with Austin… ever… didn’t mean I needed to be rude.
Derrick picked up his glass of water and took a sip. “So, you spend your days working out and telling people what to eat.” It wasn’t a question. “Explains the muscles,” he finished, his voice dripping with condescension.
“I help people discover their very best selves,” he defended. “It’s really fulfilling work. What do you do?”
Oh sweet Lord, here we go. Where was our breadbasket? I swear to God, I saw a few tables with them as we walked through the dining area.
Carla chose that moment to lean in and place her hand on Derrick’s thigh, looking up at him adoringly as she answered, “He’s a deputy at the Pembrooke Sheriff’s Department. Such admirable work,” she finished on a sigh. I struggled to keep from rolling my eyes.
I chugged down some water as the animosity between Derrick and Austin continued to grow, thickening the air to an uncomfortable level. Derrick was really taking the whole “protective friend” thing too far. Spotting our waiter a few feet away, I slammed my glass down on the table and waved him over excitedly. My stomach made a gurgling sound in approval.
“Excuse me, hi, yes. Is there any way we can get one of those breadbasket thingies?”
“Certainly, ma’am. I’ll have that out right away.”
My stomach protested. “You know what? Make it two, thanks.”
“Chloe,” Austin said, leaning over and touching my hand gently, his face soft, I thought he looked sweet… until he opened his mouth. “Do you have any idea how many calories are in a piece of bread? I always warn my clients away from eating such things. Maybe it’s best you wait for the main course, that way you don’t gorge on useless calories.” Carla made a choking noise from the other side of the table and I glanced over to see her smiling smugly behind her water glass. I shot her a look that screamed, “You can just go straight to hell, you skinny slut!” before turning back to Austin.
Typically, a comment like that would have offended me, hell, it might have even made me cry, but he was the lucky one to have me in his presence. And no way in hell was I going to be offended by a man who literally had no neck.
Before I could open my mouth to reply, Derrick chimed in. “I think she looks fantastic. A woman with curves like hers shouldn’t watch what she eats, it gives a real man something to hold onto.”
I flushed scarlet red as Carla slammed her water glass down on the table. When my wide, astonished eyes met his, he was smiling down at me, and I felt it all the way to my bones. I felt that unwanted flutter again, the same one I’d been feeling ever since he moved to town, and I had to shake my head to get rid of the daze a simple smile from Derrick put me in.
Luckily, the waiter chose that very moment to place two baskets of warm, delicious smelling bread on the table. Without batting an eye, I grabbed one of the rolls and took a huge bite, facing Austin the whole time as I hummed in approval.
“So good,” I groaned through a full mouth, just to rub it in. Screw him and his “useless calories.” I loved carbs and that was never changing. I owned a bakery for Christ’s sake.
As Austin scowled, Derrick took a roll for himself and passed the basket to Carla. “Oh, no thank you,” she simpered. “I’ve cut all gluten from my diet.”
“Of course you did,” I muttered quiet enough she couldn’t hear me.
“I have to fit into a bridesmaid dress next month, and if I’m not careful, I’ll get a little pooch.” She leaned back in her chair and placed her palms on her flat stomach while poking her boobs out all at once as she looked at Derrick through her long, false eyelashes. I couldn’t hold my eye roll back that time.
The conversation grew stilled and awkward as we each placed our orders, and it certainly didn’t help when the waiter asked if we’d be dividing the check and Austin nodded, waved his finger between us, and said, “The two of us are separate, thanks.”
Just freaking wonderful, the guy had a short temper, didn’t bother making reservations, and wasn’t even planning on paying for the dinner he asked me to? I’d already decided there was no way in hell he and I were a love match, but did Karma really hate me so much that I had to not only suffer through a terrible date, but do it with Derrick and his Barbie doll in tow? I hated Karma. She could kiss my ass.
I grabbed the waiter’s sleeve as he began to walk off and pulled him to me. “I’ll be needing wine. Lots and
lots of wine. I don’t care what the hell it is, just make it red and make it fast.”
“And put it on my check,” Derrick chimed in. “I’ll be paying for the ladies tonight.”
My embarrassment officially knew no bounds.
When our server came back with a glass of red wine, filled to the top, I made a mental note to double whatever Derrick tipped him. He was a good man.
The only saving grace through dinner was the fact that I’d already managed to down a glass and a half of wine. The tightness in my shoulders had begun to melt away and I had that pleasant floaty feeling from the slight buzz.
“So,” Carla gazed dreamily up at Derrick as she sipped her wine and pushed her side salad around with her fork. That’s right. She was one of those people. She ordered a freaking side salad for a meal and barely ate it. I, on the other hand, had already devoured my filet, and didn’t feel a bit bad about it. “That wedding next month I was telling you about? How’d you like to be my date?” She placed her fork down on the table and walked her fake nails up his arm. “I’d make it worth your while. I already have a room at the hotel. It’s supposed to have a Jacuzzi tub. It’s amazing what those jets can do.”
Oh gag! I was pretty sure I threw up a little bit. I wanted to laugh as Derrick sputtered into his glass, thrown off. If I had to guess, it wasn’t the sexual innuendo that threw him for a loop, it was the suggestion of a wedding date. In all the time I’d been watching Derrick, I noticed one thing. He didn’t commit… ever. That much was obvious to every woman in Pembrooke.
Granted, it still hadn’t done anything to lessen my crush on him, but it was the truth. Oh, he dated, a lot, but out of all the women he’d been seen around town with, none of them lasted more than three dates. And I was pretty certain he never went to weddings with any of them.
“Uh…” he cleared his throat uncomfortable as I watched on with morbid curiosity. “I’m not sure that’s possible. I have my daughter every other weekend, so…” he trailed off. Then, poor Carla, said the absolute wrong thing.
“Can’t you just switch weekends or something? Or maybe cancel just this one time? I mean, my family’s going to be there.”
With that, I noticed that the tick had returned to Derrick’s jaw. “Yeah, because it’s as easy as switching shoes,” I muttered sarcastically behind my wineglass.
“What was that?” Carla asked, narrowing her eyes at me.
Maybe it was the wine giving me a false sense of courage, or maybe it was just the fact that I was so over feeling sorry for myself, or worrying about other peoples’ opinions, but whatever the case, I couldn’t tone down my disdain as I answered, “I’m sorry, you must not have heard me, what I said was you make it sound as easy as switching out shoes. That’s his daughter you’re talking about, not some inanimate object. And maybe it’s just me, but it seems a little presumptuous of you to suggest he switch weekends, or cancel all together, when you haven’t even gotten through your first date yet.” I let out a loud bark of laughter. “I mean, that really takes some brass ones. I’ve got to hand it to you,” I lifted my glass in her direction. “That’s some hardcore confidence you’ve got there, thinking you stand above a man’s own flesh and blood. Can’t be easy thinking that highly of yourself.”
“No one asked you,” she spat back.
“Oh, don’t get your hair extension in a twist,” I giggled at my own joke. Okay, so maybe I was a little more than buzzed after all. “I was just offering my opinion on the subject.”
As I sucked down the last of the wine in my glass, she crossed her arms under her overinflated boobs, pushing them so high they were in danger of spilling out of her dress. “Well, no one here cares about your opinion.”
“I do,” Derrick cut in his heated gaze on her, and not the good kind of heat.
“Uh… am I missing something here?” Austin asked and I shushed him, waiving my hand in his face. Yep, I was definitely a little more than buzzed.
“And for the record, I’d never re-schedule a weekend with my daughter unless it was for an unexpected emergency, and no way in hell would I ever cancel on her.”
“But—”
Derrick wasn’t finished. “And I’ll just say it now, so there aren’t any misunderstandings later. And be prepared, because this is going to make me sound like an asshole, but I’ve found that label is something I can live with if it means my point comes across clearly. I have no desire, whatsoever, to meet your family. Ever.”
Oh, damn. That was so harsh even I cringed. I might have felt sorry for her, if she hadn’t been such a shrew, but you reap what you sow and all that jazz.
I was contemplating just walking out on everyone at the table and catching an Uber home. The night couldn’t possible go any further downhill than it already had.
Or at least I thought.
“Hello, Derrick,” a feminine voice said from behind me. I looked back to see a woman who looked like she’d just walked off a runway standing behind me. Her red dress fit her lithe frame to perfection without showing off too much skin. Her blonde hair was so shiny it looked like gold, actual gold! She had perfect cheekbones, perfect posture, just… perfect freaking everything. But then I noticed her blue eyes, and whatever was lying behind them was something ugly. And they were currently pointed directly at Derrick. If I hadn’t thought the evening could grow any tenser, I’d been wrong. With her sudden appearance the air felt downright arctic.
Then Derrick said her name, and I understood the sudden frostbite.
“Layla.”
Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve just entered the seventh circle of hell.
11
Derrick
My night couldn’t have possibly gotten any fucking worse. First, there was the douchebag Chloe was on a date with. The asshole was hopped up on so many steroids his dick was probably Oompa-Loompa sized, I couldn’t even begin to wrap my brain around what the hell she’d been thinking.
Then Carla had to go and drop the wedding bomb. As if her being a grade-A bitch to Chloe wasn’t already enough to solidify her place on my never again list. I’d always been honest, most would say to a fault, but, despite what most people — women in particular — thought of me, I didn’t actually enjoy being a first-class dick. But sometimes it was necessary. Case in point, Carla.
And the icing on the shit-filled sundae that was my night? My raging bitch of an ex-wife, standing less than two feet away from me.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I bit out between clenched teeth.
She let out a condescending tsk. “Now, is that any way to speak to the mother of your daughter? Are you going to introduce me to your friends?”
My mouth opened, the bitter words I was dying to hurl at her ready to bounce right off my tongue when I suddenly felt something on my hand. Looking down, I saw Chloe’s small, delicate hand clutching mine in a tight grip. The words dried up in my mouth before they even made their way out.
“Hi,” she said kindly, shocking the hell out of me by smiling politely up at Layla, aka, the fucking devil. “I’m Chloe, it’s nice to meet you.”
Her hand not currently wrapped around mine reached out to Layla in a friendly attempt at a handshake. Layla glared at it as if it were diseased before her hateful stare landed on our touching hands. “Uh… well, I just have to tell you, you have an amazing daughter,” Chloe continued. I had to give her credit; she really was making the old college try. I wanted to tell her it was pointless, that Satan was incapable of accepting or giving kindness to anyone. “I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Eliza several times and she’s absolutely wonderful.”
Layla’s lips curled derisively. “Chloe.” She sneered. “I know who you are.”
“This will be my one and only warning,” I spoke in a low, threatening voice. “You will never speak to her like that again.” Both her and Chloe looked at me with equal expressions of “Holy shit, what’d he just say?”
“Well isn’t that just lovely,” Layla sneered. “It’s bad enough you’
re subjecting our daughter to your… women, but actually have the nerve to defend her to me? All I’ve heard about since you took her to that stupid carnival is how wonderful Chloe is!”
The woman in question, the one Layla was talking about like she wasn’t even there, opened her mouth to speak, but I cut her off, standing from my chair. “Maybe that’s because she finally realized what it was like to have a positive female role model in her life for once in nine goddamned years.” I stepped closer to her. “And you’re making me repeat myself, Layla. What the hell did I just say about how you talk about Chloe?”
My ex-wife was never one to back down from a challenge so I wasn’t surprised when her eyes narrowed into furious slits as she seethed in a hushed voice. “I won’t allow you to try and play family with one of your whores around Eliza. You think you can try and replace me? I’m her mother.”
“Excuse me!” Chloe snapped from her chair. “We’re not even together. I’m with this guy!” She threw her thumb over her shoulder to Austin who looked about two seconds away from fleeing the scene. “And he’s on a date with her!” One quick glance at Carla showed she wasn’t too far behind the roided out dick-head.
“And maybe,” I continued, ignoring Chloe’s little outburst, “if you acted like a fucking mother once in your miserable life, Eliza wouldn’t be looking to someone else to fill that role.”
“Uh… guys?” Carla spoke when neither of us did anything other than glare for several seconds. “People are starting to stare.”
“If you think I’m going to let you parade your slut around Eliza, you’ve lost your damned mind,” Layla whispered harshly.
“You know,” Chloe piped up after downing more of her wine. “I’m getting really sick of being called a whore and a slut. Like, for real.”
Welcome to Pembrooke: the complete Pembrooke series Page 8
