Davis glowers at the table but doesn’t say anything else.
“I didn’t act like Ada’s boss,” Jake says.
I turn to him with a smile. “No. You just stomped around thisplace acting like you and Ada were a done deal when anyone with two brain cells could see you were the only one who felt that way.”
He freezes.
“You lied about meeting up with that mouse-slapper, and if you even think about telling me that was for Ada’s benefit, I’ll backhand you into next week.”
“But—”
“Ada hasn’t forgiven you for what happened at school,” Davis mutters into the bar top. “Cece told you that.Icould have told you that.”
Jake opens his mouth to argue, and I cut him off.
“Stop,” I snarl. “I don’t know everything about that school business between you and Ada, but I do know you weren’t honest with that girl. You treated her like a fool, and now you’re getting your just desserts.”
Jake says nothing, probably because there’s nothing he can say.
That leaves Des, still staring right at me. I don’t have to go there, but frankly, why the hell not?
“Desmond,” I say. “The bullshit between us started years ago, but it’s the same bloody story. You got in my knickers, then ran off with Gwen, and when I chased you down and asked what the hell you were playing at, you said you married her because youloved me too much.”
“Oof,” Jake mutters.
“Aggie, I never?—”
“It’s the nerve of it that turns my fuckin’ head around. As I said, you decided the fix, and the fix was what worked best for you. Same as it was for you puffed-up princes, acting like you’re owed anything more than what you’ve got right now.”
The men all stare into their booze like it holds the meaning of life. I cross one leg over the other and let the moment sit, waiting for any one of them to acknowledge what I just said.
Nothing comes.
I slide out of the booth. “I’m going tomake garlic bread. Anyone for garlic bread?”
“Yes, please,” they mumble in unison. I leave them to stew in their shame, returning to the kitchen to fire up the grill. I’ve got three homemade garlic loaves left, and I start slicing them diagonally, thankful I can still hear every word through the service window.
“I’m worried about Cece,” Davis says. “And Ada. On their own, pissed off at both of us. Christ knows what they’ll get up to in Pukekohe.”
“You’re not wrong,” Jake says darkly.
“I don’t get what Aggie meant about you and the boss?” Des says, a touch too casually. “What happened?”
Loves a gossip, that one. Always has.
Davis lets out a groan. “Told me I’m not her boyfriend and to fuck off, basically.”
“Why aren’t you her boyfriend? You’re a good lookin’ bloke, and it’s plain as a dog’s bollocks you want to be.”
“It’s not easy to just tell someone?—”
“What did Cece say when you told her you want to be together?” Jake cuts in. “Did she shut it down straight away, or leave things open?”
There’s no answer.
“You did tell her, right?” Jake asks.
The silence stretches so long I almost grill the first lot of garlic bread to charcoal.
