Maisie heads to the bar and comes back with three virgin daiquiris–frozen juice garnished with fruit and umbrellas in tall, shaped glasses with short stems. “You guys can drink. Just because I can’t doesn’t mean you should abstain.”
“I’m still suffering bachelorette party recovery symptoms,” Maisie says, her smile wry and quirked.
“And I’m driving.” Molly dangles her keys over the center of the table.
Molly looks at the corner of the bar. “Oh shnitkers.” She turns back quickly. I turn to see where she was looking and she slaps my hand.
“Ow!” She slaps hard for such a tiny chick. “Damn, Mol. What’s the problem?”
Maisie looks. “What do we do?”
“About what?”
“Shit. He saw her.” Maisie turns me toward her. “Don’t look. Don’t talk. Don’t act. Just ignore. Promise me.”
“Ignore what?”
“Hey, Belle.” I know the voice and my stomach flops like it’s a fish ripped from the safety of the water.
Ignore. It’s an idea, but he’s standing at the edge of the table now. “Caleb.”
Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.
“Can we talk, Belle?” His voice is thinner than I remembered. Not as deep or sexy as walker. Probably not the only place he won’t measure up to Walker.
“What you can do”--God love Maisie–”is go suck a dick. No one here wants to talk to you.”
I smile at her for the answer I’m not sure I would’ve said.
Caleb looks at her, his blondish hair–he gets highlights every three weeks–perfectly coiffed, his tie slightly crooked, the only imperfection visible to the naked eye.
“Why don’t you mind your business, Maisie. This is between me and Belle.”
Maisie chuckles, but it isn’t a laugh. She’s making fun of him. “If you don’t think that everything you did to her, you cheating piece of crap, isn’t my business, you’re dumber than you look.” She gives him an up and down that almost makes me feel bad for him. He’s always been super-confident despite the fact he wears loafers with no socks and cardigans with bowties. “And that is quite a feat.”
I don’t laugh, but she’s right. How the hell was I ever convinced I loved him? It’s a question I’ll never be able to answer without looking like a tool. So I ignore it.
“I never liked you, Maisie.”
Molly and Maisie both laugh. Because they can. If I’d known there were men in the world like Walker when I started dating Caleb, I would’ve waited for Walker and never given Caleb a moment of my life to screw with.
“Let’s just talk, Belle.” And there he is. The demanding bastard who cheated on me with my friend.
“We don’t have anything to talk about, Caleb.” I lift my chin a notch higher and smile. “I’m over it. I hope you and what’s her name are happy because I’m in a new relationship.” Molly nodded across from me. “I’ve moved on.”
Caleb nods once. “Another time, then.”
“I don’t think so.” I shake my head and he turns and stalks back to the bar.
I look at Maisie and Maisie looks at Molly. They high five, then look at me, hands up, waiting for me to join in. I give them each a smack and smile like Caleb being across the bar from me is no big deal. But it’s a big deal. And I don’t know why.
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
WALKER
HUNTER: Molly said that Belle ran into her ex at the Pitstop.
ME: The fuck?
