Page 89 of Unhinged

Candi looks past me and laughs. “From the looks of him, Greg isn’t happy about not spending the night together, either.”

“Why?” I turn to see the frown plastered to his handsome face as he talks to a regular.

Candi mutters, “He’s back to being a sourpuss.”

“He’s just mad because I didn’t invite him on my date tonight.”

“No way! Who?”

“Elijah is picking me up soon.”

“Ah-ha. That explains it.” I walk to the bar with Candi trailing. “The hubs is jealous.”

I spin around, stopping her. “Greg is not either of those.”

Her blue eyes sparkle under the cheap lighting. “Legally, he is, and hell, yes, he is. What did your father say?”

“I haven’t told him yet.”

“Why not?” Because it starts the countdown to an annulment, and I’m not ready for it to run out.

I sigh. “I will.”

Reaching the bar, Candi says, “Hi there, Mr. Rodwell. How’s life?”

“Fabulous, Miss Dillard. And how are you?” Greg makes it a point to ignore me. Here we go again.

A hand goes to my arm, and when I see Elijah, I grin. “Hey, I’m almost done with my shift if you want to wait at a booth.”

“Okay.”

We smile at each other, and I watch him go to the edge of the room. Hearing glass clinking more than usual, I notice Greg nearly throwing them into a cabinet. Candi shakes her head. “So, where are you going on your date?”

“I don’t know. Maybe dinner and a movie?”

“To not watch the movie, huh?” She giggles, and I arch an eyebrow.

More glasses rattle angrily and I roll my eyes as I turn to Candi. “See you tomorrow night.”

I hear her say Greg’s name as I walk over to Elijah’s booth. I lean toward him slightly. “I want to change my clothes first. Do you want a drink?”

“Nah, but thanks.” His eyes land on my boobs. “What do you want to do tonight?”

I wiggle my butt because I can’t stand still. I’m nervous? “Eat?”

“Definitely. You don’t have to change. You look good.”

I smile. “But I feel terrible. I need fresh clothes.”

He laughs. “No problem. I’ll be here.”

I see Greg whip a towel against the wall on my way to the kitchen. At least he’s behaving.

I go to the locker room for my clothes. I don’t want to change in the restroom. As I go to the door to lock it, it swings open, and Greg slams it shut, locking it.

Taken aback, I blink, waiting for him to say something. When he doesn’t, I demand, “What?”

Instead of answering, Greg walks to me and keeps walking, backing me up to the wall. He angrily whispers, “You drive me fucking crazy.”

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