Page 102 of A Forever Love

“It’s our first official date, mittens. I’m definitely taking you someplace special.”

Guilt washes over me, watching his smile. I can’t let my sulky mood ruin this day. I push my shoulders back and sit upright. “So, where’s this special place?”

“Patience. You’ll know soon enough.”

Leaning back in my seat, I’m determined to push aside all my worries for the night.

Less than thirty minutes later, Carter pulls up outside a hilltop restaurant. With a hand on my back, he leads me through the door, and we’re ushered in without even giving his name. We pass a bustling dining room, and my jaw drops when the waitress guides us to a candlelit patio. Instead of typical dining chairs, there are two Victorian-style upholstered armchairs encircling a table, along with a matching couch that faces the stunning scenery of the town before us. A fire crackles in the pit in front of the couch, and on a side table, there’s a wine decanter, two glasses, and a platter of cheese and fruits. A man saunters in from the garden, stepping onto the patio floor and stopping before us. The black-and-gold pin on the lapel of his gray suit reads “Manager,” and he shakes my hand before Carter’s.

“As per your reservation, we’ve closed all our outdoor seating for the night, Mr. King. The garden is all yours. Please press this bell button, and our servers will be here to assist you. Until then, we will let you have your privacy.”

Everyone leaves and I take a moment to swallow before turning to Carter. “Wow! How much is the price of renting a garden these days?”

He chuckles. “It’s well within my budget, mittens.”

We sink onto the couch, and Carter pours wine into two glasses. He hands me one, and we clink our glasses together. “To many more dates like this.”

“Don’t tempt me, King. If this is how you’re planning to do dates, I might have to demand one every week.”

He grins, taking a sip of his drink. But my smile fades. I place my glass down and grab his hands.

“What’s this?” My fingers trace over his knuckles, which are swollen and red. “You were boxing without gloves again?” I turn his hands as he tightens his grip on mine.

“It’s not from boxing. I got into a fight.” His cheeks flush as he tucks his hand back into his pocket.

“You did what?” And for some reason, Brandon’s face, with his clenched jaw and tight fists, flashes before my eyes. “Please tell me it wasn’t Brandon.”

That gets his attention. “What a weird thing to say.” His weighted stare has my skin running cold. “What did that jerk say to you now?”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“Neither have you, mittens. What did he say?”

I try to avert my gaze, but Carter gently holds my face and turns it back toward him.

“No, I didn’t fight with him,” he tells me. “But I saw him last night at a bar. We talked.”

My heart races, and I can only imagine what Brandon might have said to Carter.

His voice lowers. “I know, Mere.”

I squeeze my eyelids shut, hoping to turn back time by a few seconds. Carter shouldn’t have found out this way. “He wasn’t supposed to tell you anything.”

“He didn’t. At least not in so many words. I called Jena.”

My stomach drops, threatening to dump its contents on the shiny floor, but I swallow back the acid crawling up my throat and ask, “Are you still in touch with her?”

Carter shakes his head slowly. “I fired her already. I’ve known for a while that she was taking advantage of the company, but it was because of that night that I was tolerating it. I didn’t realize she’d destroyed more than she’d saved.”

A tightness in my chest grows, fear and anger blending into a toxic mix that seems to consume my every second. “What did she save?”

“Me. My dignity.” Carter grits his teeth, gripping his hair.

My gaze flits around us, taking in the beautiful landscape before me, the flames of the candles dancing and flirting with the air, the warm fall bouquet on the side table with deep red, yellow, and orange roses along with burgundy carnations and matching sprigs. But nothing can calm my racing heart.

“The night of your prom, I called Mom, receiving the same response. I was midway through my pathetic drinking ritual when I found Jena outside my apartment. I think she was at Tiki’s when I ordered him to send some liquor with a delivery boy, and she volunteered. She came in and handed me pot.”

“Carter!”

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