Page 17 of Ghosted By Texas

“That was only slightly embarrassing.”

“Moreso for him.”

“Yeah, right,” I huffed.

“Well, if you had seen him, you’d understand. His shoulders were hunched like this.” She demonstrated his stance and while I appreciated what she attempted to do, none of it mattered. “And the tips of his ears were red as freaking cherries,” she went on to say.

I giggled about that, but not for the reason Clea thought. No doubt, he remembered the night he shared with Jordan as a result of everything that happened. Who knows? Maybe the asshole popped a boner while thinking about his bestie in her lingerie and was embarrassed because he thought Clea noticed it. Either way, I wasn’t about to let on that there was more to everything.

“His ears only turn red like that when he’s really embarrassed, so I guess you weren’t lying to make me feel better,” I suggested.

“Nope. But I think you were lying to me, and maybe yourself, about how serious things were getting with him before he ghosted you.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s all in the past now.”

That was the truth of the matter and one I needed a good long cry about. I thought I was long done crying over that relationship and certainly that man, since he didn’t deserve my tears. The bastards wouldn’t listen and threatened to spring up again.

“Clea, I’m sure you have work to do, with a new client and all, so I should get going.”

“If it’s going to hurt you, I can call and tell him that I can’t honor our contract.”

“No, you can’t. You have a contract and not honoring it will lose you more than just the Mercer’s business. I’m fine. I promise.”

I so was not fine, but she didn’t need to know that.

There hadn’t been a good way to get out of going to the party with Clea. Not even the possibility of the Mercer brothers’ anger over my being there stopped my best friend from demanding that I go with her. The only excuse she would accept was if I told her that I couldn’t go because it made me too uncomfortable. If I admitted to that, I’d have to fess up to why I felt that way and tell her the whole sordid tale.

I still didn’t know why I kept it to myself, even six years after the fact. Every time the thought of unburdening myself of what happened cropped up, I buried it even deeper inside where all the hurt still festered. The truth was, I couldn’t go through it again.

It didn’t feel right to tell my stupid tale, and the whole damn thing just felt so unbelievable anyway. I grew angry with myself for still being upset about any of it. Admitting my story to Clea would make it ten times worse that I couldn’t just get over it. Austin and I hadn’t been together that long. Including the time when we first dated and the time leading up to the party, it was from Halloween until Valentine’s Day. That was nothing in the big scheme of things, especially with six years separating the last time we spoke as a couple.

I had been lost in thought when we made our way to the club, so it was surprising to look up and see the huge line of people waiting to get inside. Luckily, we were able to bypass them and went straight to the employee section of the lot that had been roped off.

“Wow! I guess everyone hates Cupid as much as you do,” I commented before faking a laugh in a sad attempt to ease the tension I felt at being on his turf. It didn’t work for me, but Clea seemed to buy it as the real deal, so there was that.

“I guess so. I think this is a better turnout than we had hoped for. It seems like word of mouth spread and maybe we better get someone out here with a clipboard and have people pre-sign their photo release forms.”

“You’re the boss!”

“No, Becs, your Texas guys are the bosses. I’m just here to help them out tonight.”

They weren’t my anything, but I couldn’t snap at Clea on her opening night. “I prefer to think of you as the boss. It makes it easier to go into a place that belongs to him.”

“You don’t have to be here,” she reminded me. It wasn’t the first time. Every excuse I made, that was the answer she gave, or something similar.

“Hush, come on, I hear this place is giving away drinks tonight.”

We waited for freaking ever at the back door for someone to come let us in, and to my absolute horror, the last person I expected to see – though I don’t know why – was the one to pop her head out the door.

“Hey! Come on in, Clea. I’m pretty sure we have everything set up per your instructions, but I’m guessing that you want to double-check before they start letting bodies through the door.”

I wanted to wipe that smirk right off her stupid, whorish mouth. My hand twitched with the need for violence as I remembered the last time that I saw the bitch and the fact that she gloated about fucking any thought of me right out of Austin’s mind.

Jordan and Clea were conversing, but I couldn’t understand a word of what was being said because anger made my pulse thrum heavily inside my ears, blocking out all other sound. Eventually, I got tired of staring at her smug face as she pretended that I wasn’t standing right there with my best friend.

“Where are your bosses?” I asked. She eyed me with contempt before turning to Clea again and answering her, like she had been the one to ask the question.

“They’re in the office going over some staffing stuff.” She walked away then but threw a glance back over her shoulder. “Feel free to find me if you need anything, Clea.” The distinction that only Clea was offered the hospitality wasn’t missed by me, and I didn’t think it blew past my friend’s notice either.

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