The room got bright when a patron opened the door and walked in. Payten looked over to see a green-eyed red head hanging her jacket on the coat rack.
“Hey, beautiful,” Conrad called out with a funny little salute. “How was your interview?”
The woman groaned as she slid onto a stool and smoothed out her skirt. “It was terrible.” She folded her arms and buried her face.
“It couldn’t have been that bad.”
She lifted her head, propping her chin in her palm. “You wanna bet? It couldn’t have gone worse if I had intentionally mucked it up.”
Payten only half-paid attention and only half-cared how the woman’s day went, but was suddenly more curious when she saw the look on Luc’s face as he walked into the room. He took one look at the red head, and his whole face lifted. Interesting. She glanced back at the woman and studied her closer. Yes, she supposed she was attractive. Intensely attractive, if she had to describe her perfectly. And from Luc’s reaction, very clearly her lead competition for his attention.
“Rob. How did it go?”
So this was Rob.
“Don’t ask, man,” Conrad said, setting a beer in front of her. “She’s in mourning.”
“That bad, huh, Squirt?”
“Don’t even get me started.” She grabbed the mug, chugged half its contents in one tip of the glass.
“Easy, slugger.” Luc chuckled and slid the beer away from her. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”
Robbie’s shoulders suddenly tensed and she gripped the edge of the bar. Eyes going wide, Luc darted around the bar and grabbed her hands.
Payten had no idea what the hell was going on.
“Conrad! Shut the fucking window.”
Conrad shot across the room in no time, and slammed down the only open window, effectively cutting off the melody of ‘Kashmir’ from the car at the curb.
“Deep breaths, baby. Come on. Deep breaths.” Luc dropped her hands and cradled her face. “Look at me, baby. Robbie, look at me. That’s right. You’re okay.”
Robbie’s voice was breathless, but sturdy. “I’m okay. I’m good. I’m good.” She gripped his wrists. “Just caught me by surprise, is all.”
Luc let out a breath and took the glass of ice water Conrad had brought over. “Here. Take a drink.” He watched as she complied. “It’s been awhile, huh?”
“Yeah. Over a year now?” Robbie nodded, took another drink. “Sounds about right.” She set the glass on the bar, slid off the stool. “I’m alright. I’m just gonna head home.”
Payten strained to hear their conversation as Luc walked her to the coat rack.
“Why don’t I come over tonight? Sit with you awhile,” he said.
“Can’t. I have a date.”
He pulled those broad shoulders back. “Who?”
“That guy I met here the other night. Bryan.”
“My attorney?”
I’ll have to thank Bryan for that, Payten thought. Maybe give the man a raise.
Robbie shrugged, pulled her jacket off the rack.
“No. Not good enough,” Luc muttered, taking her jacket and holding it open for her.
Robbie might be stiffer competition than Payten had thought.
“You never think so.” Robbie turned and buttoned up. “Am I ever gonna be good enough for anyone?”
Luc looked stunned, then put his hands on her shoulders. “That’s not what I said, Rob. I meant he isn’t good enough for you.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She leaned forward, kissed his cheek. “Love ya. I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah. All right. Me too.” Luc watched Robbie leave, and then strode back behind the bar.
“Can I get a refill, Luc?”
“No,” he grumbled, and kept right on going.
Payten watched him disappear in the back, and then gave Conrad what she knew was a disarming smile. “Conrad, right?”
“At your service.” He braced his palms against the edge of the bar. “What can I get for you?”
She tipped her head towards the back. “Did I do something to offend him?”
“I don’t think so. Why?”
“There’s such…open hostility.” She didn’t add that it warmed her blood to experience it.
“He’s always like that. You get used to it.”
“Oh, not everyone.” She traced her finger around the rim of her mug. “He’s not like that with his girlfriend.”
“His girl—” His brow raised before understanding lit his eyes. “Oh. That’s different. That’s Robbie,” he said, as if that explained it all. “Look, I gotta help these people. I’ll be right back.”
“No. That’s okay.” She reached into her purse and slapped a twenty on the bar. “I’ll see you around.”
*****
At closing time, Conrad listened as Luc cracked more dishes together in the back, and cringed at the sound of their profits going down the drain.
“Take it easy on the mugs, man,” he called out, and then muttered under his breath, “That shit doesn’t grow on trees.”
“The mugs are just fucking fine,” Luc snapped, walking behind the bar to take another load back.
“Jesus, Luc. Get over it already. Enough is enough, man.”
Luc straightened. “What the fuck are you talking about? What’s your problem?”
Conrad stopped wiping at the bar. “Right now, it’s you. Get over it, or do something about it.”
Slamming the mugs on the counter, he glared at Conrad. “You better start making sense, or you and I are gonna have a problem.”
“I’m talking about you and Robbie.”
“What about us?”
“Would you sleep with her and get it over with?”
“I… What the fuck, man?”
“Look, I know you want to, so get your ass over there and take care of business.”
“I can’t just bang Robbie like she’s any other chick. You know I can’t, so why are you fucking pushing it.”
“Because it’s more than that, man. You damn well know it, but won’t see it.”
“And I repeat: What the hell are you talking about?”
“You’re in love with her. Just admit it already, and get it over with. Shit.”
Luc’s mouth worked before finally finding his voice. “Lust does not equate to love.”
“It’s more than that.” Conrad held up a hand. “Let me ask you this. How come, in all the years I’ve known you, you’ve never once taken out a girl with red hair or green eyes?”
“I have, too.”
“Bullshit.”
Luc paused. “Then it’s just because I’ve never gotten busy with one. Hell. It’s not like they’re a dime a dozen, not like blonds and brunettes are.”
“How did I end up with a best friend that’s as dumb as a sack of rocks? Think about it, man. You’ve had the opportunity. Women are constantly throwing themselves at you—all shapes and sizes. But you don’t go for the red heads because they remind you of Robbie.”
Again, Luc’s mouth hung open. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“She’s what you want, but can’t have, and you don’t want a reminder of that. But the thing is, how do you know you can’t have her if you haven’t even tried?”
“You don’t know—”
“Let’s try this one. She’s going out on a date tonight, right?” Conrad watched as a dark cloud rolled over Luc’s features—the same dark cloud that had been plaguing him all night long. “There. Right there.”
“What?”
“It irritates the hell outta you she’s going out. You always get moody when she has a date. You’ve been that way since you were teenagers.”
“I’m not moody. Nice term, by the way, I’m not a fucking chick. I just worry ‘cause all the pricks out there.”
“You’re not worried, you’re jealous.”
“I am not fucking jealous.” Luc crossed his arms, leaned back against the bar. “I’m just…overprotective.”
“Overprotective. Yes, insanely so. I’ll give you that one. But definitely jealous too.” He bent over to grab a beer out of the little fridge, popped it open on the counter. “Put all the pieces together, man. You’re in love.”
“Conrad…” Luc blew out a breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Suddenly, his head snapped up with a glare at Conrad. “Fuckin’ A.”
Conrad tipped his bottle at him. “There you go. ‘Bout time you caught up.”
“Dammit!” Luc yelled, pushing off the bar to pace behind it.
“Told you.”
Luc spun, pointed a finger at him. “You shut the fuck up. Let me think about this a minute.”
“Think all you want. You know I’m right.” He chuckled, enjoying the show. “I always am.”
Luc stopped and slipped his hands in his pockets, shoulders slumped in defeat. “Fucking annoying is what it is.”
“Annoying or not, glad you’re finally aboard.” He set his beer down, and nodded to Luc. “I’ll let you finish closing, figure the rest of this out on your own. I got a woman waiting on me.”
“Wait. What the hell am I supposed to do now?” Luc started pacing again. “You couldn’t have fucking clued me in on this sooner?”
“Are you serious? I shouldn’t have to point it out to you at all.” He dodged past Luc, grabbed his jacket off the rack. “She’s in love with you too, Luc.”
There was only one word Conrad could come up with to describe Luc’s expression: Dumbstruck.
“Are you sure about that too?”
“Absolutely.” At least he hoped he was right.
“What if you’re wrong?”
“What if I’m not?” Conrad countered.
Luc took a moment, then slumped against the bar. “Shit. What if you’re not?”
Conrad strode out the door, and left Luc to stew on that.
Chapter 7
The next morning Robbie rolled out of bed in a mood. It went south the day before with the botched interview, worsened after the panic attack at the bar, and then hit rock bottom when she called Bryan to cancel their date. Bryan understood, he was very kind about it. But her stomach hadn’t agreed with her decision when she filled it with ice cream and cookie dough, instead of the previously intended seafood dinner. As if listening to her train of thought, her stomach grumbled in general protest when she grabbed a Diet Mountain Dew out of the fridge, cracking it open as she made a beeline to the bathroom.
A steamy, scalding shower was just what the doctor ordered, she decided, the water thrumming hard against her shoulders. Today she would take the day to gather herself and only do whatever was necessary for her own sanity—no appointments to keep, no places to go, no people to see. Just her and her own space.
Perfect.
Robbie spoiled herself by indulging in her favorite, and very expensive, body wash. And then followed up with a smear of scented lotion after she dried off. Feeling fresh and feminine, she went in search of clothes only to find she had put off doing laundry by one day too long. With no clean underwear or bras to wear, she slipped into a tank top and tore open a package of men’s boxers she had picked up the week before. It was her favorite lounging attire, as long as she was lounging by herself, that is.
After shoving in a load of laundry, Robbie headed to the kitchen for another soda. As she passed through the entryway, she scowled at the clock on the wall—still reading one o’clock. She made a mental note to change the battery, and then stopped short as she surveyed her apartment. Apparently, what she needed to do for herself, and her sanity, included cleaning her space. With a sigh, she retrieved her iPod and ear buds, and began pulling cleaners out from underneath the sink.
*****
Luc hadn’t been able to sleep a wink the night before, and two sleepless nights in a row made him punchy and pissed off. He still didn’t know what he was supposed to fucking do with the bomb Conrad hit him with, but what he did know was that sitting around on his ass wasn’t it. After pacing his apartment for the better part of the morning, he decided to go right to the source. He had no fucking clue what he was going to say to Robbie, but he figured it would come to him while he was there. It damn well better.
Maybe he should just tell her what Conrad said and gauge her reaction. Maybe he should just ask her straight out how she felt—she’d be honest, right? Maybe he should just go over there and kiss her… No. Whatever he did, he wouldn’t be the first to take the initiative. He had to find out if Conrad was right about how she felt without giving away his own feelings. No sense going there if the man was wrong. And Luc had reason to believe Conrad was wrong. Hell, he’d know if Robbie loved him. He would’ve been able to tell. She cared about him—no question. She loved him—no doubt about it. But fucking in love with him? That he would’ve been able to see for himself. But maybe caring was enough. For now. Jesus Christ, what the fuck did Conrad start by telling him all that shit?
Irritation crept up his back as he parked his truck in front of Robbie’s apartment. As he took the key out of the ignition, a thought occurred. She’d had a date last night, so what if she wasn’t home? As he stepped out of the vehicle, another more disturbing thought hit. What if she was home, but wasn’t alone?
Luc slammed the door shut before stalking up the walkway, his thoughts working him over until he was steaming with a pure and productive mad—the kind that propels the muscles forward and clouds all judgment.
She’d just met Bryan, she wouldn’t have had sex with him. She wasn’t that type of girl… But what if he got her drunk? What if she was careless and let things get away from her?
Well, he would show that sonofabitch what happened when a man took advantage of a woman. Who gave a flying fuck that the man was an attorney?! Let him sue! It’d be worth it to teach that asshole a lesson. No one puts their fucking hands on his Robbie.
No. Fucking. One.
He came to a halt at her door, and whaled on it. After two seconds, she still hadn’t answered, so he pounded again. More seconds passed, and nothing. What the fuck were they doing in there?! Spewing obscenities, he dug his keys out and unlocked the door himself. He whipped it open, stepped inside, and slammed it shut in one swift movement. Her name was ready to rip out of his throat when he spotted her.
She was standing on a chair and changing the battery of her kitchen clock. He was about to ask her if she was deaf, but when he saw her ear buds, he concluded that yes, she was indeed deaf. The woman didn’t know how to listen to music without blasting her fucking ears out. The counters were filled with various cleaners and buckets, so he deduced she didn’t have company, but was cleaning…well, everything. His anger began slipping away, but then saw what she was wearing—a tank top, and boxers. Who the hell did those fucking belong to?!
He strode up to her, calling her name, but she was oblivious as she got on her tip-toes to hang the clock back on the wall. He tapped her on the back just as she turned. Letting out a cry of surprise, she jolted and then teetered. Luc lunged for her and managed to catch her, but he had to do some creative maneuvering to break her fall with his body.
Robbie looked down at him with wide, green eyes and yanked out her ear buds. He could hear her music like it was blaring through tin cans.
“You scared the crap out of me!” she said, and then broke into a fit of laughter.
As her body shook against his, he was struck by her and how she felt. His heart did a firm knock in his chest. Glancing away from her captivating eyes, he noticed her tank pulled low, revealing ample cleavage.
That did nothing to help his current problem.
“Are you okay?” Robbie asked, the amusement still twinkling in her eyes.
“Fine,” he grumbled, shifting to get her off him. He was hard as a rock, painfully so, and the expression on her face—shock—told him she had just noticed.
“Are you…?”
“What?” he snapped, pushing to his feet.
Her eyes flashed and her full lips pulled tight; an expr
ession he knew all too well. “Just what are you mad about? That I almost hurt myself, that you had to catch me, or that for half-a-second you actually found me attractive?”
“More than half-a-second,” he mumbled, trying to curb his own building temper.
“I can’t believe you’re embarrassed to be attracted to me. How do you think that makes me feel?” She stabbed a finger at his chest, adding kindling to his own bundle of anger. “Insulted, that’s what! Get out! I don’t even want to look at you right now.”
“I’m not embarrassed to be attracted to you. I’m embarrassed that you know I am. I shouldn’t want you as much as I do!”
“Why not? What the hell’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing! You’re… You’re…”
“What?”
“You’re Robbie!”
She backed up a step and studied him. When she finally spoke, the fire from her tone had sizzled out. “And that makes me…family? A sibling?”
“God, no! Family, yes. But I’ve never thought of you as a sister.” Up until then, all the words had flown uncensored from his mouth, but now he knew to choose his words very, very carefully. He stepped forward, gliding his fingertips across her cheek. “Best friend. Confidant. Touchstone.”
She jutted her chin out, her voice going sour. “And you’re embarrassed by me.”
“I’m embarrassed to want you, to even consider you’d want me too.”
“And what if I do?”
His chest squeezed tight. “That’s not funny, Rob.”
She reached for him, running her hands up his chest as she moved in. “It wasn’t meant to be.”
He grabbed her wrists to hold her steady. “But what if—”
“No. No what if’s.” She surprised him by arching in. “There’s just us.”
He couldn’t grasp a clear thought. He could only feel her, see her. He hadn’t known what to expect when he stormed over, but this wasn’t it.
The unexpected had him frozen in place, except for the clench of his jaw.
Her expression shifted in defeat, her tone going flat. “See? Embarrassed. Get the hell out.” She jerked her wrists out of his grip, and spun away.
A Modern Love Story Page 10
