Page 29 of King of Deception

“I’m not.” I quickly shook my head and looked up at the baffled waiter. “I’m good, thank you.”

“Well, we don’t serve chamomile tea—”

“I’m fine. Thanks,” I repeated, widening my eyes at Alex.

As soon as the waiter left, I picked up my knife and jokingly held it up. “You’re not being supportive right now. I resent that.”

“Your words and your gestures don’t match.” He stifled a laugh before picking up his fork and knife, digging into his giant stack.

Sighing, I cut out a piece of my omelet and ate it, following with a little bite of bread. As I chewed, I thought about the way Abel made me feel.

“But you know?” I mused. “I did have a good time last night.”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” he chuckled, shifting in his seat. “So? Spill the tea?”

“I—I,” hesitating, I shook my head.

“Without anxiety?” he reached with his hand, touching mine. “C’mon, Ella. Let’s focus on the good for a change.”

“It’s a scary thought,” I confessed.

“I know. Just one step at a time, though. You had fun.”

“Yeah,” I smiled, slowly cutting another piece off my plate. “It’s like… the conversation just flows, y’know?

“Just the conversation?” he shot me a naughty look.

“Shut up! I’m serious.” Not wanting to reveal the sudden rush of shyness that undoubtedly made my face blush, I looked away, taking a bite.

“Okay, I’m sorry. The conversation flows…”

“It does.” I quickly nodded with a defiant look. “And he’s not trying too hard.”

“Are we back to comparing him to Jude?” Alex crossed his arms over the table, leaning slightly forward as his eyes solemnly locked with mine. “Ella, if you have any hope of making any relationship work… you really gotta stop making Jude your bar. Because guess what? That entire thing was abusive as fuck… and I can’t even begin to tell what you were aware of and what you were in denial of.”

“I wasn’t in denial,” I objected.

“Yes, you were. And I refuse to let Jude eat up any more of your time. Deal?”

Inhaling deeply and very slowly, I fixed my sight on my friend’s face and reminded myself that he loved me and wanted what was best for me. He was also right about the way I allowed the ghost of Jude to dictate every decision I had made.

Silently, I promised myself to try to control it.

Later that evening, Alex and I went to see our friends Drew, Vanessa, and Randall. Thanks to his job as a music venue manager, Randall had scored us tickets to a Frank Sinatra tribute gig in a bar near Washington Square Park.

The music started, and the band was doing rather well. But when I saw James step into the bar, I quickly poked Alex in the shoulder. “You didn’t tell me he was coming.”

A smile of relief took over his face as it lit up, watching his boyfriend approach. “Honestly? I didn’t know if he was over our fight yet.”

“Uh!” I protested. “And you let me go on and on about Abel?”

“What can I say?” he shrugged before lightly shoving me to the side, grinning. “You made it!”

James inched closer, placing his hands on Alex’s cheeks before kissing him on the mouth. Without turning to look at me, he hollered, “Hi, Ella.”

Embarrassed that I’d been keenly staring like a star-struck teenager, I audibly cleared my throat. “Oh, hi James. Didn’t see ya there.”

Alex threw a subtle stare my way, and I giggled before suddenly ruffling my hair and shouting along with the singer, “Fly me to the moon!” And just like that, I jumped ahead and started dancing with an elderly woman in the middle of the bar.

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