Nat told me that Layla saw him taking me home a few nights ago. One of my concerns is that she sees me and wants to come over and talk. It’s not time for us to meet.
At least, not yet.
“Excuse me.” I grab the attention of a passing waitress. “Where’s Mauve?”
She shakes her head. “Mauve is a bit busy right now, sweetie.”
“Can you pass on the message that Riley Carter wants to see her? It’s in regard to Chance McLanely and April.”
The woman gives me a strange look. “Alright.”
A part of me is afraid the waitress won’t deliver my words but, thankfully, an older woman with beautiful dark skin and bright eyes hustles to my table. She reminds me of my grandmother in the way that she stands straight and tall, full of energy, despite her age.
“Were you asking for me, sweetie?” Her eyes collide with mine and she grins. “Oh, you’re Nathan Campbell’s girl.”
Heat sears my cheeks. First, it was Chance McLanely and now Mauve recognizes me as ‘Nathan’s’ before I’ve opened my mouth.
What has that man been saying about me in Lucky Falls?
“What can I do for you?”
“Mauve, are you aware of…” I glance around as covertly as I can and whisper, “what’s going down with April and Chance tonight?”
Mauve’s eyes widen. “I do.”
“And you’re aware of that woman sitting at the bar and what she could ruin?”
Mauve nods resolutely.
“I need your help with something a little… unconventional.”
I discuss with her for a few minutes and then it’s go-time.
Once I’m on my feet, adrenaline buzzes through my veins, but I don’t second-guess myself or allow the nerves to attack me.
I keep my eyes on Layla.
She’s wearing a halter top, a white mini skirt, and skinny heels, looking every bit a city girl in this humble town. The color of her blouse is a bright, flamboyant conquistador red.
And I’m the bull that’s heading straight for the target.
There are two empty chairs at the bar beside Nat’s ex and I pull out the second one, leaving an empty chair between us.
“Mauve, I’ll have my usual please,” I say loudly and confidently.
Layla is nursing a drink and glances over. When she recognizes me, her eyes widen and she plunks her drink down.
“You.” She points a manicured finger. “You’re that girl who was with Nat.” She slides her eyes over my outfit and scrunches her nose. “Are you a plumber or something?”
I channel my inner Regina George and pop an eyebrow. “Who are you?”
“Nat hasn’t mentioned me?” Layla asks coyly, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.
I tilt my head, feigning ignorance.
Layla slithers into the chair beside me and says, “Nat and I dated for two years. You could say I’m his most serious girlfriend.”
The sensation in my stomach is… unpleasant, but I don’t allow my emotions to sway me.
