I sat at a table close to the bar and sipped my beer while I waited for Rishi to show up. The bar seemed to attract a good mix of the carefree, young crowd and also older businessmen. The kind who seemed a trifle weary at the end of the day. I wondered if Desmond would look like that in a few years.
I’d been journaling off and on, and I was slowly learning to accept a new sense of normalcy. The reality of losing a mom I’d loved deeply. A mom who, while she’d loved me, also kept things from me. It was gradual, but I was on my way to admitting that it was what it was.
A server in a black shirt and pants walked past me with a tray of drinks. I looked at his back absently for a while before I registered that something about him seemed familiar.
Eerily familiar. He brought back memories of the scandal, of the morning when I had come into work to realize all of my restaurant’s business purchases wouldn’t go through because my account had been wiped out.
There was no way that could be Kyle. He was in Austin, from Misty’s account, so while I looked at the server walking away from me, I forced myself to relax.
Someone coughed, and I glanced up to see Rishi standing there. Rishi was looking fresh, happy, and thriving at the end of his workday. Also not the kind of man who could get jaded with the world.
“The hostess said she saw a pretty woman at this table, so I figured you must be here,” he said to me in his trademark flirty voice, giving me a wink as he sat down.
“Rishi!” I said, forgetting my troubles for a moment.
He represented a different world. One where I didn’t have to walk a narrow line between flirting with my boss and also making sure I said appropriate workplace things. One where I could say scandalous things, and the worst thing was that he’d top them with one of his. One where I could forget about seeing Kyle everywhere—for a while at least.
He took a seat across from me, but his eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“No, nothing’s wrong …” I said, turning around to catch another glimpse of the server, but he had disappeared to the kitchen.
I saw someone who eerily resembles Kyle.
I tore my gaze away and looked at Rishi, feeling reassured by his presence. “It’s nothing,” I said, determined not to get worried.
“So, what’d I miss in the time that we haven’t met?” I asked Rishi asked as a busy waitress came up to take our orders.
When she left, I crossed my legs and leveled Rishi with aspill itlook. “I know you’ve got something on your mind. I recognize that look.”
Rishi grinned. “I know you’ll disapprove, but I have been toying with the idea of gate-crashing my ex’s party later this weekend.” He looked into the distance and then winked at me. “I hear the dress code is Birds of Paradise. So, make sure you dress appropriately this Sunday.”
“Ha-ha! You think I’d join you?”
“Have I not mentioned enough how much of a social outcast I am? And that I must be really, really alone and desperate if I’m asking you to accompany me?”
“Thanks. It means everything to have your faith in me,” I said.
“You’re welcome. Don’t expect it to last, of course.”
“You’ll dump me for the next pretty face you see?”
He grinned just as our waitress came back with his martini and my cosmo. A wicked smile took over Rishi’s face. He took a sip before he set it down.
“Speaking of pretty faces, a little birdie tells me that you’ve been seeing a lot of a special someone.”
“I have no idea who you mean,” I muttered.
Rishi grinned. “So, what are you guys? Passionate lovers? Brooding enemies? Friends with benefits?”
I groaned and took a large sip. The cosmo was just the right amount of sweet and refreshing with a subtle hint of lime.
Rishi was looking at me over the rim of his glass. “Just for the record,” he said, not taking his eyes off me, “I’m betting on passionate lovers.”
I aimed a kick at his legs just under the table, and he dodged it just as his phone rang.
“Darn. It’s work,” he muttered, getting up. “I’ll be right back,” he said.
While Rishi stepped out, I looked around for a restroom and found the hallway that would lead to it off to the right.
