by K. M. Scott
I immediately notice both Brooke and Tabitha have makeup on their faces. And they look incredible. Are those fake eyelashes they’re wearing? God, my eyes must look like two pencil holes in a bedsheet compared to theirs.
Opening them as wide as I can get them, I nod and hope they don’t pay too much attention to my face during this conversation. “I was so happy to hear from you today. Any help you can give me would be so appreciated.”
Brooke waves her now purple tipped hands in front of her face, clearly excited about what she has to tell me this morning. “Well, I spoke to one of my fellow food bloggers, Jessie Tyson, and she wants to do a whole week of posts about you. She’s local and has a really great audience, so I think it would give you a leg up you could use. She said to have you give her a call, so here’s her number and all her info. Definitely check out her site. She gets tons of visitors every day.”
She reaches across the space between us over the coffee table and hands me a sheet of note paper with all the details. “She said she hopes you’ll call today, so I think she’s excited too.”
I clutch the paper like it has the secret to eternal life scrawled on it, thrilled for this assistance from a woman I just met last week. “Thank you so much, Brooke. This is so great of you.”
She smiles, but it feels forced. Then she turns to look at Tabitha, who’s never sat down, and I sense something’s wrong. Did they have a fight? I had wondered if they were together and not just boss and assistant. Maybe I interrupted something when I got here so quickly.
“I have something I need to tell you, but I don’t know how to say it.”
My heart sinks. This is something about me. Something she doesn’t know how to tell me. She doesn’t think my desserts are good. She didn’t like them. She was only pretending. But why did she call me over here this morning if she hated my stuff? Why would she recommend me to this Jessie woman too?
“Oh?”
That’s all I can get out. Oh. Not even an oh my or an oh God. Just oh. Pretty much how my hopes being dashed to pieces sounds.
“This is so hard. I really like you, Hailey, and I think you’re super sweet. I feel like in the short time we’ve known each other we’ve gotten to be like friends, and I would never let a friend be done wrong.”
Now my stomach drops. “Done wrong?”
What does that mean?
She gives Tabitha another somber look and then falls silent. The seconds feel like hours as they tick by, and all I want to do is scream, “Who or what is doing me wrong and how do you know about this?”
Finally, she blurts out, “Your boyfriend. Cade? I don’t think you can trust him.”
Every word after his name hits me like a slap to the face, but somehow I get out, “What? Why can’t I trust him? He’s great.”
For the first time, Tabitha speaks up as she walks over to take a seat on the couch next to Brooke. “You have no idea how much we don’t want to tell you this. He seemed like such a great guy yesterday.”
“He is a great guy,” I say, my words trembling as they leave my mouth.
“No, he isn’t,” Brooke says quietly. “We saw him last night at that club he works at, and when I tried to talk to him, he was all over me. I couldn’t believe it since he was so sweet with you when he was here.”
“Cade wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t do that to me.”
“Tabitha was there. She witnessed it all.”
All I can do is shake my head. They must be mistaken. Cade wouldn’t do that. He just wouldn’t.
“You must have him confused with someone else. Cade isn’t like that.”
The two women exchange looks, and then Brooke grabs her phone off the table. Holding it up, she turns it toward me and I expect her to show me a picture of Cade doing something. Instead, I hear voices coming from it, but I can’t understand what they’re saying.
“Who is that?” I ask, hoping against hope that it’s not Cade’s voice on that phone.
“I’m only human. What man could say no? I want you to get off.”
Oh, God. He sounds so wrong. The guilt is coming through loud and clear. It’s his voice. His words. Him hitting on Brooke.
It feels like someone has sucked all the air out of the room and I can’t fill my lungs with a single breath to sustain me. Why would he do this? Was everything we’ve been to each other these past few weeks a lie?
My mind races as I struggle to fight back tears. Did he want to do that thing he did with that bartender the night I was at Club X? Was that all a lie he told me too?
“Hailey, I’m sorry I had to play that for you. You don’t deserve that. You’re so sweet and you’re so talented. I just couldn’t walk around with that on my conscience and not let you know the truth about him.”
I shake my head but can’t say a word, terrified if I utter a single syllable that I’ll begin crying. I believed every word he said. Even when I had proof with my own eyes, I believed him.
Why would he do this to us? If he wanted someone else, why did he chase me like he did?
Through watery eyes, I look across at Brooke and know the truth. She’s the type of woman he wants. She’s gorgeous and successful and she probably comes from money.
Exactly the opposite of me.
“I better go, Brooke. Thanks for all your help.”
“Okay. I hope I did the right thing, Hailey. I did, didn’t I?” Brooke asks.
“Sure. Thanks. I have to go.”
She says something as I hurry toward the door, but I can’t hear her over the sound of my heartbeat pounding in my ears. Nothing she could say now matters anyway.
By the time I get to my car, I can’t stop the tears from coming anymore. I sit there in the parking lot of the expensive and luxurious Regent Hotel and sob like a baby, knowing I don’t belong there just like I never belonged with Cade.
How could I have been so stupid?
Chapter Eighteen
Cade
One of the reasons I hate working at Club X so much is the hours. Getting home after three and not getting to sleep until four in the morning means I don’t wake up until nearly noon and half the day is gone already. When it was just me, it didn’t matter so much, but now that Hailey is in my life, having only a couple hours to see her before I have to go back to the club feels like a tradeoff I’m not willing to make.
I roll over and run my hand over the pillow she used the last time she slept in my bed. Pulling it to my face, I inhale deeply and smell the scent of that shampoo she uses. Vanilla? Or maybe coconut? I’m not sure. All I know is it reminds me of her.
Glancing at my phone through still-sleepy eyes, I see it’s twelve-fifteen. Damn. I wanted to hang out with Hailey for a few hours before I need to be back at the club for seven.
My mind still groggy, I scrub the last of the night’s sleep from my face and focus on the screen. Eleven messages. Who the fuck needed to talk to me that badly for the last eight hours that they left that many messages?
Even before I look, I’m guessing it’s my father. He likes to send me an entire conversation in texts, each one two or three lines. I wake up thinking the world is on fire when it’s just that he had an idea on some theme he thinks would work at the club and wants to know my opinion on it.
He’s probably going to pitch that Y2K idea to me again. Dude, it wasn’t good the first time you had it, so what would make you think a year later it’s gotten any better? It’s not a concept that’s improving with age.
I set my phone back on the nightstand, not interested in dealing with that nonsense right after I wake up. That’s really more of an in-person conversation anyway. Then I can shake my head when he says something really bizarre and hold my hand up to stop him before he gets too far into the crazy.
Staring up at the ceiling of my bedroom, I slowly come to life and wonder if I should read them. He’s only going to continue messaging me if I don’t. Then I’ll have twenty or thirty to get through.
I reach my hand over and grab my phone, s
urrendering to the inevitability that I’ll have to read them at some point. Better to get it over with now.
It only takes a split second to realize this isn’t another one-sided conversation from my father. They’re all from Hailey. The first message hits me like a fist to the face, stunning me.
I never want to see you again. I know what you did, and there’s no way you’ll talk yourself out of this one. You must think I’m so stupid, but since I believed you with the girl on the bar, I bet you thought you’d fool me with this one too.
What does she mean? My eyes roam down the screen to the next one filled with even more hurt.
How could you do this to us? Why? And why Brooke? Was it to make sure it was as painful as possible for me?
My chest tightens with each word I read. Why does she think something happened with the food lady? Did she tell her? But nothing happened. Nothing at all.
I swing my legs off the side of the bed and walk out into the kitchen as I read the next message from Hailey.
Don’t call me or come looking for me at the restaurant. I don’t want to ever see you again.
Instead of reading any more, which will only show me how much she’s hurting, I do exactly what she said not to and call her. I need to hear her voice. I need her to hear me tell her what really happened so she can know I never did anything with Brooke.
That I wouldn’t blow up all we have together. Not with some lying food lady. Not with anyone.
That I love her and would never hurt her like that.
But her phone simply rings and rings with no answer. I try again, but the same happens. And again and again for another four more times until the next time I try it goes directly to voicemail. I listen to her voice so sweet and bright when it says to leave her a message. I want to explain everything, but not in a voicemail message, for Christ’s sake.
So instead I tell her the one thing that’s truer now than it’s ever been.
“Hailey, I love you. I’m coming over to see you, and I’m not leaving the restaurant until I talk to you. This is all a mistake, and I’m going to show you that. I love you.”
I want to keep repeating that I love her so she can’t think of anything else. Not whatever bullshit lie Brooke told her. Not whatever doubts she has because of what happened in her past. None of it. I just want her to know the one thing that’s true is I love her.
She has to believe that.
Hailey’s father sees me as I walk in the front door of Comfort Food, and I brace for what’s likely to be the ugly scene that waits for me. I really don’t want to have to fight through him to get to her, but I will today.
“Cade, good to see you!” he says as he walks over to greet me at the register. “Hailey’s in the back. I’ll go get her.”
I quickly study his expression. It doesn’t seem like he’s being ironic or disingenuous in any way. Maybe he doesn’t know?
“O—o—okay,” I stammer out, unsure what’s going on.
I read through all the messages before I got in my car and raced over here. Hailey never said she was mistaken or something had made her change her mind.
The double kitchen doors open, and she walks out looking as sweet and cheerful as usual. She doesn’t smile so much as not frown, but when she stops in front of me, she points toward the door.
“I don’t want to talk here. Let’s go outside.”
She doesn’t sound furious or even sad. I don’t understand.
By the time we get to the side of the restaurant out of sight, I’m totally confused. Her messages made it clear she’s upset, but she’s not acting like it.
Hailey stops near the corner of the building and spins around to face me. Now I see what she was hiding inside. The hurt. The anger. It’s written all over her face.
“It was all a lie, wasn’t it? Everything between us just one big, fat lie to you,” she says, her voice soft but shaking as she tries to hold back the tears.
“No! None of it was a lie. I love you, Hailey. I’m crazy about you. I would never do anything to hurt you, especially cheat on you with another woman and really especially with that food lady Brooke.”
Her eyes well up with tears, but she shakes her head like she’s willing herself to stay strong and not show me how devastated she is. She doesn’t have to worry about that. I know what she’s feeling. Her emotions came through loud and clear in her texts. That’s why I rushed over here. I knew she was telling herself I’m just like that asshole she caught cheating on her.
But I’m not.
Hailey falls silent for so long I want to fill up the empty space with more words about how much I would never do what she thinks I did. I hate standing here with her so close but feeling like she’s slipping away from me with every second that passes. I reach out to touch her, but she shakes her head and backs away.
Finally, she can’t stop her tears from falling and lowers her head to hide her face from me. “I heard the recording, Cade. I heard you talking. It was your voice. I heard you kissing her. I heard it all.”
“What recording? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, but it’s like I’m watching her drift away as the memory of those few minutes with Brooke pass through my mind.
“I heard your voice! It was you, and you sounded so guilty. You knew what you were doing was wrong. Twice I’ve known the truth about you with my own senses. I saw with my very own eyes you and that girl up on that bar, but you made me disbelieve what I knew I saw. Now I heard with my very own ears your voice and hers while you and Brooke were together. Are you saying I shouldn’t believe that either? Do I have to have all my senses prove what you are? Maybe I should taste another woman on you or smell her on you for proof? Do I need to feel another woman touch you to finally have enough proof that you’ll admit the truth?”
Hailey begins to sob, and I know I have to tell her the whole truth. It’s now or never. But nothing really happened. She has to understand that. I didn’t want to offend Brooke and ruin Hailey’s chances that she could really get her to help her.
“Okay, okay. There was a kiss, but I didn’t kiss her. She kissed me. I should have pushed her away quicker, but I was worried that if I did anything to piss her off that she’d take it out on you. She came looking for me at the club. I didn’t want to see her. She said she wanted to talk about helping you, so I took her into the office. That was all I wanted to do, but when we got in there she obviously had other plans.”
I stop myself from saying anything more and try to get Hailey to look at me. She lets me lift her chin, and when she looks up at me, her beautiful blue eyes are all watery. Looking at them breaks my heart, so I have to continue talking so she knows what happened. That I didn’t do anything with that woman.
“You have to believe me, Hailey. Nothing happened. I don’t know what kind of recording she has, but it’s not real if you heard me saying I wanted her or even gave a damn about her. She’s the food lady to me. That’s it. The person who said she wanted to help you get the word out about all the great things you make.”
As tears stream down her face, she stares up at me, tearing my heart out of my chest at seeing her like this. Then she says the words that make me feel like someone’s carved into the center of me and left an empty space I won’t be able to fill without her in my life.
“I never want to see you again, Cade. Don’t text me. Don’t come here and stand out in the parking lot waiting for me. Just stay away from me. Whatever I was to you I’m not anymore, so go find some other girl to play with.”
Her words stun me, and I reach out to stop her from going back into the restaurant, but she pushes me away. And then she’s gone, and I’m left standing there in the midday sun feeling like all the goodness in my life has been taken from me.
Tipping the bottle up to my mouth, I drain the last few drops of whiskey and toss it onto the couch next to me. For five hours, I’ve sat here trying to drown my ability to feel. It hasn’t worked. If anything, I feel more, not less about losing Hailey than
I did all those hours ago.
I hear the front door open and look toward the hallway to see Alex walking toward me. Not exactly the person I hoped would stop over tonight.
“Hey, what the hell are you doing sitting here? You’re supposed to be at work,” he says as he sits down in the chair in front of me.
“What are you? A fucking timeclock? Unless you’re here to deliver more whiskey, go away.”
Alex leans forward and narrows his eyes to look at me. “Are you drunk?”
“Yeah. And I plan on getting even more drunk just as soon as I can find another bottle,” I announce before attempting to stand up.
Gravity or drunkenness, whichever is the more powerful force on me at the moment, sends me falling back onto the couch, and I give Alex a shrug. Guess I’m not looking for more to drink right now.
“What’s going on, Cade? I’ve never seen you like this. You’re supposed to be at work. Your father called me and asked me to come over here to see if you’re home because he couldn’t get in touch with you.”
I grab my phone and hold it up for him to see. “I got his calls. I got his texts too. Today’s been my day for texts I didn’t fucking want.”
“Why are you sitting here hammered when you’re supposed to be at work?”
“Because I fucking hate that place, okay? Hate it!” I yell.
Alex nods like he understands. Of course, he would. He’s known me for my entire life, so naturally he thinks he understands my utter loathing for that place.
“I know. You always have. But this isn’t like you not to go to work. What’s going on here, Cade?”
Focusing on him, I push myself up so I’m sitting. “I’ve always hated that club. You know that? My father spent every spare moment of his life when I was a kid there. My mother used to take me there so I could see him and we could have a normal family dinner together because he always fucking had to be at the club by six. He couldn’t go in at seven. No, it had to be six. As if any of those fucking drunks that go there every night would know the difference if he waited until we had dinner at home together. He didn’t even change when Ava came along.”
