Page 6 of You, Me, and Lucky Number 13

“What are you doing here, asshole?”

I thought I had said all I needed to say in the parking lot earlier, my actions doing the talking for me.

“Well…” He dusts off his joggers like jail dust has suddenly flown on him. “I had to give a statement, and before I filed a restraining order against you, I thought I'd say goodbye.”

My eyebrows shoot up to my forehead. “A restraining order!”

He nods. “The officer thought it would be for the best, since you did try to hit me with your car.”

“The officer can kiss my fucking ass.” I lunge forward and wrap my fists around the bars. “This is the first time I've seen you in three months.”

Chad shrugs. “That we know of.”

He's acting like I've stalked him for years. “We haven't been in the same county since I caught you in bed with your marketing assistant.”

At least he has the decency not to deny it. He just shrugs as I roll my eyes and practically spit out my next words. “No one is stalking you.”

I can't believe someone suggested he should file a restraining order against me, of all people. Sure, I can be a little passionate and sometimes eccentric, but I’m not a stalker orthatcrazy. Today was just a fluke—a bad day where I made a bad decision—nothing more. This guy thinks way too highly of himself, I certainly don't like Chad enough to stalk him.

“Regardless,” Chad says, “I'm here to let you know that if you ever come after me or Monica again, I won’t hesitate to file this restraining order.”

So, the little pussy isn’t going to file it after all? That’s a shocker.

“No problem,” I clip, finding this conversation maddening. If I could reach through these bars and grab him by the throat, I would. Damn the consequences. How dare he come here and treat me like the last five years meant nothing to him? Once upon a time, he couldn’t get enough of me; I was his luckycharm. The woman who brought him wins on and off the circuit. My, oh, my, how things have changed.

“Furthermore, I wish you luck in ever finding another job in the racing industry.” He flashes me a wink. “Word has spread quickly, and I would be surprised if you can find anyone to work with you now.”

The fucker blacklisted me.

Argh! I thrust my arms through the bars, but he steps back with a chuckle. “See ya around, Charlotte.”

I cast a look at Jerry as Chad files out of the holding room, but he won't meet my eyes. I guess it's a good thing I don't get embarrassed often, because right now, in my pajamas behind bars, I'm a hot freaking mess and feeling rather low. Which is really saying something, because I didn’t think I could feel any lower than I did when I found Chad in bed with Monica, sleeping on the sheets that I picked out, with her head resting on my pillow. Chad sat up and acted like I was being dramatic for crying and screaming. I didn't even throw anything. I wanted to, but I was too shocked to do anything but cry and ask why.

That question still haunts me today. Why did Chad do this to me? His answer was simple:“You just weren't enough.”

Like there's the definition of what enough is. How do you know how much is enough? You don't. Or at least, I didn't. I didn't love him enough. I wasn't beautiful enough. I wasn't talented enough. I could go on and on, but you get the drift. I was being judged against a scale that had no end.

“Lola?”

Brian’s voice interrupts my downward spiral. “Are you all right? I just spoke with Chad in the hall.”

Brian makes a face like he swallowed something nasty, and I couldn’t love him more for it.

“Yeah,” I say with a smile. “I’m fine, considering the prick stopped by to let me know that one of your officers suggested he file a restraining order against me just to be safe.”

Brian rears back as someone smacks him. “Who was the officer?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. He didn't say.”

“Well, I assure you, no one will be filing a restraining order against you.”

He can't promise such things, but I appreciate the sentiment.

“No worries. It sounded like he wasn't planning on actually doing it. He just wanted to feel powerful.” I chuckle. “Small dick syndrome and all that.”

Brian laughs, and the keys on his belt jingle. “What were you thinking, kiddo?”

“I wasn’t.” I shrug shamefully. “I just got so angry when I saw them together.”

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