Page 38 of Undone, Love Times Three

God, even to my ear that sounded heartless. Whether or not this is mutual, it irritates me she slept with someone else, before she admitted we were over, or asked for the divorce.

Lauren goes quiet. She has to take some responsibility. I don’t appreciate her trying to make me feel guilty. Driving out of my parking slot I sigh. “What did you want, Laure?”

“How did this go so horribly wrong, Danny?”

My foot hits the brake a little harder than I should as I come to a stop at the barrier, making me lurch in the seat. She hasn’t called me Danny in years. Not since we were in college. It’s hard to describe how it makes me feel. Like shit?

“People fall out of love all the time, Lauren. It happened to us.”

She sniffles. “That may be true, but I do still love you as a friend.”

What the fuck is this crap? I’m not sure what she wants me to say that won’t hurt her, so I say nothing.

What do you say to the woman you were with for years when you reach the end? Nice knowing you, thanks for the good times? Chances are we won’t see one another again.

Pulling onto the street, I say the only thing I can think to say.

“Take care of yourself, Lauren.”

“You too, Danny- Uh, Daniel,” she corrects herself. Lauren knows how to interpret my silence.

I cut off the call before she does and clench my jaw so hard it’s a wonder my teeth don’t crack. I’m good at convincing myself I have no feelings about this but not right now. I’m pissed, I’m upset, and confused by this reaction.

I need a fucking drink. Across from the stop sign where I’m waiting for the light to turn green, there is a sign indicating a left turn for Lakeview. Tapping the steering wheel, I make what is probably a reckless decision.

I turn left.

Not My Knight

Adele

He’s been sitting at a table in the back for about an hour, using the table ordering system, not coming to the bar. It’s busy tonight with enough people that I only catch glimpses of him.

He’s even hotter than I remember. The crisp white shirt does all kinds of things to my pulse, molding over the muscles of his arms and chest. The burgundy-colored tie sets off his eyes. His sleeves are rolled up to just below the elbow.

He’s not quite the coifed, elegant CEO. There is still that touch of rebel to his appearance.

Since he came in, I’ve being going back and forth on what I want to say to him.

When I was first served papers about being sued, I’d been so pissed I broke a glass. How fucking dare he?

I don’t doubt my security. Not even the tiniest bit. I went straight to the cameras, which we have all around the bar.

As suspected, I recorded the incident in the bar, where he punched Daniel. Then the arrival of David and Leo who assisted him out. He struggled, my security moved him along.

When I switched to the outdoor cameras, they released him and he moved backwards, angrily, yelling at them. He weaved around a bit and went off camera. Then he fell, you can see his feet going and David is in the top corner of the shot, nowhere near him. Leo is off screen though. That is where we’re screwed.

We have lawyers, but it is a lot of stress and a lot of financial strain we don’t need. At the family meeting after I was served, it led to discussions about doing what everyone so desperately wants of us. To distribute 312.

I’ll be damned if some asshole threatens my family into doing something we swore we never would. I’ll fight tooth and nail before I let that happen.

This Faulkner bastard is a big deal. We’re a small bar, no matter how popular we are.

Now I have the actual threat of giving up our family secret.

“Are you gonna go talk to him or stare at him?”

I elbow Brie. I’ve not filled the bar staff in on the lawsuit, but I have told David and Leo. They needed to make statements.

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