Love Me Not

by Reese Ryan

  The scowl on her face relented as the edges of her mouth reluctantly inched upward. “Well, that was nice of you, but it’s not like we’re friends. I’m just the bartender. It doesn’t matter whether or not you take my suggestion. My only concern is that you get the best meal and service possible.”

  Miles placed his hand over his heart and pouted. “Ouch! We’re not friends? Geez, and here I was thinking you’re the only friend I have in town.”

  She looked down beneath her heavy, dark lashes then back at him, her gaze softer. “If I’m your only friend in town, you definitely need to get out more.”

  He laughed. “I know you turned down my kick-ass Castle watch party, but maybe one day you’ll show me around. As a law-abiding citizen, I’m pretty sure it’s your obligation to help me get acclimated to my new home.”

  “Who says I’m a law-abiding citizen?” She pursed her lips in a mischievous smile that made him want to tug her bottom lip between his. “I’m gonna take a wild guess and say you and I probably don’t run in the same circles. You strike me as the fancy museum benefit type. That’s definitely not me. And to be honest, I don’t think you’d last a single night out with my friends.”

  “Try me.” He gazed at her intently.

  She sighed and shook her head. “Like I said, I can’t. But my best friend, Melanie, is definitely the museum benefit type. If you want, I could give her a call and see what she’d recommend.”

  “That’d be great.” He hoped his smile masked his intense disappointment at being shot down again. “But I’d like to hear some of the places you’d recommend, too. I do enjoy a fancy benefit every now and then, but I’m a lot more down-to-earth than you’re giving me credit for. I just might surprise you, Jamie Charles, if you give me the chance.”

  She surveyed his face. He’d give anything to know what she was thinking at that moment, but her poker face offered little indication. Jamie opened her mouth to speak but seemed hesitant. Breaking their gaze, she bit her lip then sighed. “How about I give you my list and Melanie’s next time you come in for dinner?”

  “Sounds good.” This round went to her, but he wasn’t down for the count.

  * * *

  Miles had been coming to Tahlia’s for dinner at least three times a week for a month. And as much as Jamie hated to admit it, she looked forward to seeing him. Her heart skipped a beat and she had to restrain herself from smiling like a damn fool whenever he walked through that door.

  He hadn’t asked her out again, but to be honest she was only partly relieved. Another part of her was a little disappointed every time he didn’t ask.

  She glanced at the clock. It was after seven on a Friday night and he still hadn’t shown up. She’d been thinking maybe he’d finally given up when she heard his distinct laugh.

  Her back to him, she didn’t turn around, just listened carefully. He wasn’t alone. He was talking to a woman.

  She turned subtly to wipe the bar and glanced in the direction of his voice. Miles was with a pretty young blonde wearing an incredibly short miniskirt and thigh-high boots.

  It was fucking eighty-five degrees outside. She must be sweating like a damn racehorse inside those hot leather boots. Apparently she wasn’t from around here. Locals knew they’d be sporting winter gear long enough during a winter that often stretched from fall to early spring. No need to wear winter gear when it wasn’t necessary. But then, this girl seemed bent on showing Miles Copeland her assets, which might possibly include the ability to swing around a stripper pole.

  Miles guided the woman to a table in Lisa’s section instead of taking his usual seat at the bar.

  Lisa gave Miles and the woman menus and put two glasses of water on the table. As she walked away she glanced back at Jamie, eyes narrowed and face scrunched in a silent reprimand for letting him get away.

  Jamie inhaled deeply and returned to cutting lemons. After weeks of flirting with her, why would Miles traipse Puss ‘n’ Extra-Tall Boots in here? Did the man not know there were hundreds of other restaurants in town? Or was he trying to make her jealous? She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. If so, it was working. She was being ridiculous. Hadn’t she turned him down repeatedly? They weren’t an item, and they never would be. It shouldn’t matter to her if he had a girlfriend. In fact, she was glad of it. Now they could stop playing this pointless, frustrating game and move on.

  Dammit. She looked down at her bleeding finger. What a fucking idiot. Ten years of bartending and she’d never done that. The cut was small, but the citrus juice felt like lit kerosene, burning her skin.

  She put the knife down, turned on the water and started rinsing her hand.

  “You okay?”

  Jamie was startled. She turned off the faucet, grabbed a napkin and wrapped it around her finger. “I’m fine, thank you.” She nodded in the direction of his companion sitting at the table reapplying her lipstick. “Looks like you made some friends after all.”

  The tiny smirk that curled the edges of his mouth filled her with a sudden desire to relieve her desperate curiosity about how those lips tasted.

  “Renee’s staying at my hotel. She was headed here for dinner, too, so I figured, why not eat together?”

  Jamie narrowed her eyes at him and tightened the napkin around her finger. She focused on the god-awful pain, rather than on how those words made her insides burn. “Well, I’m glad you won’t have to eat alone tonight.”

  A hurt look marred his face temporarily, but the glint quickly returned to his eyes. “Well, I just wanted to say hello and tell you the only reason we’re not eating at the bar is because Renee wanted to grab a table. I just didn’t want you to think—”

  “You don’t owe me an explanation,” she said, her voice tense. “I’m just the bartender, remember? Just enjoy your dinner. Okay?”

  He sighed, pressing his open palms into the bar. “Okay. But let me take a look at that finger first.”

  “What, are you a medical doctor now, in addition to a psychologist?” She bit the inside of her cheek, slightly embarrassed by how harsh her words sounded. He hadn’t done anything to deserve that. “I’m sorry. Things have been a little crazy tonight and my finger feels like it’s on fucking fire right now.”

  He reached across the bar and extended his hand. “May I?”

  She released a long breath then held her hand out to him.

  He gently unfolded the napkin. “Doesn’t look too bad. You got a first aid kit around here?”

  “It’s in the back.”

  “It should have some antiseptic spray in it. If so, spray it on. It’ll burn like hell for a few minutes, but it helps if you blow on it while you’re applying it. Should stop the bleeding, too.” He released her hand and smiled at her.

  “Thanks. And Miles?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m sorry. That was really bitchy of me and you’ve been nothing but nice to me.”

  “It’s fine. Now, go take care of that cut before you bleed all over my lemons.” He winked at her.

  She laughed. “I will. Enjoy your dinner with Rachel.”

  “Renee,” he corrected, attempting to keep a straight face. “And I’ll try, but something tells me that looking at that busted hand of yours will be the best time I’ll have all night.”

  Chapter Six

  Jamie stood behind the bar, staring at the customers who had gathered at Tahlia’s on a Friday night, her eyes on the door whenever it opened. She saw a familiar face, though not the one she’d expected.

  “There’s my baby!” Ellie grinned at her from just inside the door, flanked by two of her girlfriends from the senior center, Jane and Lisa’s aunt Anna.

  “Ma, what are you doing here?” Jamie leaned over the bar and let Ellie kiss her on the cheek.

  “Well, you never showed for that lunch date you promised, so I thought I’d bring the girls by here for some of those amazing pork chops.”

  Jamie exchanged pleasantries with Jane and Anna, then nodded toward Lis
a, who had a table waiting for them. “Lisa will take good care of you.”

  “You will come over to see us, won’t you?” Ellie was reluctant to release her hand.

  “I’ll be over as soon as I can, Ma. Promise.”

  “When you come, bring a few of those mojitos. My baby might not be a cook,” Ellie told her companions, “but she can make one hell of a drink. You girls better hold on to your seats for this one.”

  The ladies laughed and headed for the table, where Lisa greeted her aunt with a hug and seated them.

  “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your mom?”

  Jamie looked down at the end of the bar. Miles was sitting there, grinning at her like a mischievous little monkey. How the hell did he get in here without her seeing him?

  “Are you in stealth mode? Or did you just slither in through the back door?” She made a glass of water with lime and handed it to him.

  “You were too preoccupied to notice.” He laughed. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

  “I’m not in the habit of introducing customers to my mom.” Jamie surveyed his expression, waiting for him to make a comment about the difference in their ethnicities. She expected a puzzled look at the very least. But there was nothing but genuine excitement at the prospect of meeting her mother.

  “We might not be dating—yet—but I was certain we’d made it beyond the ‘customer’ stage now, haven’t we?”

  “Miles—”

  “After all, you serve me dinner at least three times a week. I know you’re an artist, that you’ve wanted to be one since you were a little girl. That has to count for something, doesn’t it?”

  She shifted uncomfortably behind the bar. He’d been slowly—almost imperceptibly—peeling back her layers. The man was like water, seeping into every pore of her being, no matter how hard she tried to keep him out.

  “I’d say we’re friends. Wouldn’t you?”

  “Yeah, sure. We’re friends,” she said.

  “So you’ll introduce me to your mom?”

  “No! What is the big deal? Why do you want to meet her so badly?”

  “Because you said she’s the woman you look up to more than anyone else. That she saved your life. That’s a woman I’d like to meet.”

  Jamie stared at him, waiting for him to crack a smile, to show the slightest bit of insincerity, but she could find none. There was only genuine interest, and it made her uneasier than any negative remark he might have made.

  Ignorance she could handle. She had a million responses to any number of smart-ass remarks someone might make about her being the lone Caucasian in an African American family. But whatever this was...this she couldn’t take. She folded her arms and said, “Well, aren’t you gonna ask?”

  “Ask what?” He put his menu down and took a gulp from his glass.

  “You know what.”

  “Okay, Jamie,” he said. “If you want to tell me about your family, I’d love to hear it. Not because I think it’s odd, but because I’d love to learn more about you.”

  Something inside her wanted to hug him and bash him over the head simultaneously. How did he always know the right thing to say? This guy couldn’t be for real. She was convinced of it.

  “Ellie and Lou Gordon were my best friend Melanie’s parents. I fell in love with them when I was eight years old. They were like this perfect family. The exact opposite of mine. I ate dinner at their house almost every night. My dad was a bartender, too. He was gone most nights and it was just me and my mom. Well, that’s not true. She had her bottle of Jack Daniels, or whatever the hell she was drinking that night.”

  Glancing sideways, she gauged Miles’s reaction, to decide how much more of the story she was willing to divulge. She had his complete attention, and there was no evidence of the pity this story normally evoked—not that she’d revealed it to many people.

  “Anyway, a couple of years later my dad took off in the middle of the night. My mother’s drinking got worse. I couldn’t take living with her and the parade of loser boyfriends who came in and out of her life. So I planned my great escape. I was gonna run away to New York and be a street artist.”

  “That must have been hard,” Miles said, his eyes fixed on hers. “It’s great you had your best friend and her family.”

  “But that’s the thing...somewhere along the way they became my family. And not in that fake way—you know, when people say it, but they really don’t mean it. Ellie and Lou were my mom and dad. No, they were way better than my mom and dad had ever been, than they could ever be.”

  “So what happened? I mean, you were gonna run away to New York. What kept you from doing it?”

  Jamie smiled, thinking of her best friend. “I told Mel about my plan after I’d made her promise not to tell. Before I could even leave the house, she’d gone crying to Ellie and Lou. They talked to me half the night. Then they made a decision I’ll always be grateful for. They said if my mom agreed to it, I could live with them. They even wanted to become my legal guardians.”

  “That’s a huge responsibility to take on. They must be pretty awesome folks.” There was a soft, comforting smile in his eyes.

  “They were. I mean, he was. Lou died a few years ago.” Jamie looked over at Ellie laughing with her friends. Her heart felt like it was expanding in her chest, and the corners of her eyes stung. “She is. I love her more than anyone in the entire world. I’d do anything for her.”

  “See, that look in your eyes when you talk about her. That’s why I want to meet her. I didn’t have that kind of relationship with my mother either.”

  Jamie raised an eyebrow. “You? Are you kidding me? Let me guess, you lived in a mini-mansion with a yard the size of a city park, three dogs and a pony.”

  “My family has money, I’ll admit that. But I didn’t grow up with the charmed fairy-tale life you think I did. You’d be surprised what really goes on behind the walls of those gated communities.” He took another sip of his water.

  “So tell me about it.” Her eyes met his and for the first time she felt a slight bit of pity for him. Maybe she’d misjudged him. He had everything. How could he possibly know the type of pain and anguish she’d seen in her life or even begin to understand it? But looking in his eyes now, she knew he could. Something deep inside her needed to know why.

  He tapped his fingers on the bar gently, studying the wood rather than looking at her. She’d hit a nerve. Finally he looked up. “Tell you what, why don’t you make me one of those Lou Gordons first. I’m going to need it.”

  She nodded. “Sure thing. You ready to place your order?”

  “Just surprise me.” He shut the menu.

  * * *

  “So, my parents are loaded. Surprise, surprise,” he said. “And no, for your information, I did not have a pony.” He pointed a finger at her, his tone lightening up a bit.

  “Sorry, was it a llama instead?” She poured more water in his glass.

  “No. But I did get a used Porsche for my eighteenth birthday.”

  “Your eighteenth? That late? I’d have expected you to get it for your sixteenth birthday.”

  “Hey, my parents weren’t that irresponsible. What’s a sixteen-year-old going to do with a Porsche besides wrap it around a tree? No, they’re too sensible for that. They got me a Mercedes-Benz for my sixteenth birthday. It’s a much safer car.” He winked at her and they both laughed.

  “Poor baby,” she said. “Your life sounds so hard.”

  He sighed. “Don’t worry. There’s more. My dad’s a powerful lobbyist. A total prick and a legend in his own mind,” he added. “He traveled a lot when my sister and I were growing up, so he was barely ever home, which was fine by me because he was an asshole seventy-five percent of the time. And as for his travel...well, he rarely traveled alone. He usually had his secretary-du-jour in tow.” A pained look marred his face, his lips drawn into a tight, angry line.

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

  Miles waved his hand. �
�No need to apologize.”

  They were both quiet for a moment.

  Finally Jamie asked, “So, what did your mom do about it?”

  “Nothing.” There was a look of disgust on his face. “She acted as if everything was okay. When I got older, I confronted her about it. I asked her how she could just pretend like everything was fine when Dad was blatantly cheating on her with these...women. She said, ‘Son, everyone’s family is different. This is ours. Get used to it. I have.’” He swallowed hard. “I was so angry with her for letting him treat her that way. I wanted her to stand up for herself, and for us.”

  Miles pressed his palm to his forehead, his thumb massaging his temple. Jamie resisted the urge to touch his hand. The sensation surprised her. But there was something in him that was hurting, like a wounded animal, and she wanted to comfort him. But who was she to help anyone? Her own life was a mess.

  “I’m sorry about your parents. Are they still together?”

  Miles snorted. “He left her when one of his ‘secretaries’—” he used air quotes, “—got tired of being the other woman and demanded that he make an honest woman out of her. So he divorced my mother, just like that. All the shit she took from him to keep our family together, and he dropped her like a rock. She had a breakdown.” Anger flashed beneath his eyes and taut lines formed on his forehead.

  “Is she okay now?”

  “She’s back to her old self, only more bitter, and she wishes she’d walked away years ago.”

  Jamie looked up at where Ellie stood, patiently waiting to talk with her and perhaps doing a little eavesdropping. “Yeah, Ma?”

  “Jamie, hon, Jane wants to know if you’ll bartend at her daughter’s wedding next summer.” Ellie approached the bar, smiling with interest at Miles.

  “Sure. Can you give her one of my cards and ask her to give me a call on Monday?” Jamie walked toward Ellie.

  “Sure thing.” Ellie leaned in closer and lowered her voice. “Her daughter’s an Ivy-League-educated lawyer. Don’t feel like you have to extend them a friends-and-family discount.” She winked.