Page 69 of Sunny Skies Ahead
“I don’t give a damn what you think about me, or my life,” I said. Carmen was rattled in a way I’d never seen before. For a minute, she almost looked scared. Something about itempowered me to make this moment count, because I knew I wouldn’t have this conversation again.
“I don’t want to hear from you,” I said. “I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t want to see your face, and I don’t want anything to do with you. Don’t call, Carmen. I mean it.”
I left my mother there, staring disbelievingly into her coffee cup. I knew as truly as I knew my name that I would never speak to her again. And my life would be better for it.
Chapter twenty-two
Kameron
Ihadn’t heard from Imogen in over a day.
I constantly checked my phone, staring at the text message she sent saying she would call me. On some level, I could recognize that it was silly and juvenile to expect her to call me back quickly. We were both adults, and Imogen was clearly not expecting to be ambushed by her mother in the way she was that night.
She had every right to want some time and space for herself to work through things.
But as someone who cared for her, it was damn hard to sit by the phone and wait for her to come to me.
Which is exactly how I found myself at Watley’s diner, finishing up a delicious meal of chicken and waffles. It had become a minor obsession of mine in the months since I’d visited Watford that first time. Connor convinced me to try it, because I’d been burned before. Comfort food was only comfort food if it was done right.
And Lonnie Watley knew good and well what he was doing with these. I was grateful for whatever stroke of fate madeLonnie switch his allegiance from the east coast to the west coast.
I was halfway through my meal, scrolling through articles, when a woman approached my table. At first, I didn’t look up, hoping that she would move along.
“Hi,” she said. I looked up. She had long blonde hair and striking blue eyes, and carried herself with an easy grace.
“Sorry?” I asked, patting my mouth with my napkin. She smiled.
“You’re one of Connor and Abbie’s friends, right?”
“Yes,” I said slowly, still not understanding. Outside of my little circle of friends, I didn’t know many people in Watford, and I didn’t particularly care to.
The woman smiled. “I’m Skye.”
“Hi, Skye,” I said, my brain finally catching up. “I’m assuming you work here?”
“Oh Lord no,” she said, smiling. “I work at Blackbeard’s with Phillipa and Kyrie.”
“Ah,” I said. “So, what brings you here?”
Skye flushed a little at that, and I realized my mistake before she even opened her mouth.
“I’m sorry,” I said, trying to cut her off as nicely as possible. “I don’t want you to get the wrong impression. I’m seeing someone.”
Skye, to her credit, didn’t balk. She simply shrugged and let out a small sigh.
“You miss one hundred percent of the shots you don’t take,” she said, flipping her blonde hair over one shoulder. I let out a small laugh.
“I say that all the time. And I’m flattered, really, it’s just. . .”
“You’re seeing someone else,” Skye said, raising her eyebrows suggestively.
“Something like that,” I said. “It was nice to meet you, though.”
“I’m sure I’ll see you around,” Skye said, giving me another small smile before heading towards the door. She opened the door to leave, and a man shuffled in after her, sliding past her.
“Oh, excuse me,” she said before stepping out onto the street.
I looked up to meet Lucas’s steely gaze.Crap.
