Page 17 of Merrily Yours
“I’ll head out too,” Jules adds. He slides his black leather jacket on and readjusts his man bun.
I hop up too because I’m not going to stay here by myself. “I’ll see you back at the house, I’m just going to say goodbye to Ethel real quick.”
Bex and Jules walk away as I gather my empty cup and wave to Ethel. “Remember our deal,” I call out across the room.
Colette’s head whips toward me, and I relish the fact that she thought I was talking to her. I adopt a smug expression and walk toward her table, much to her chagrin.
I ignore blondie and lean down into Colette’s space. “I wasn’t talking about you, sweets, but I’m glad to see I’m top of mind.”
She glares at me, opening her mouth before being interrupted by Finance Bro Ken. “Uh, can we help you with something?”
I keep my eyes on Colette. “I don’t know… Colette, can he help us with something?”
“That’s not really what I…”
“What is wrong with you?” she hisses.
I reach out and stop her hands from fiddling with the rim of her mug. “I’m just sick of watching you practically falling asleep over here. You need to be stimulated, Cole.” I lean in even closer. “He’s not very stimulating is he?” I whisper.
“What the fuck? I can hear you.”
“And how would you know what I need?” Colette asks. “You might have known me in high school, but you don’t know me anymore, Benoit.” She smirks, thinking she has the upper hand.
“Oh but I do. And you hate that don’t you?”
“I hateyou,” she seethes.
Somewhere in the background, I hear blondie pushing his chair back. “Woah, maybe I should…”
That catches Colette’s attention. “No! Brody, don’t leave. Benoit is the one who is going to leave!”
I pull up a chair instead, turning it so I can rest my elbows on the chair back and prop my chin in my hands. “Nah, I think I’ll stay.” I grin.
“Yeah, I’m out of here,” Brody says.
“Bye, Ken!” I wave, still looking at Colette.
“Wait, Brody!” Colette gets up to follow him and then thinks better of it, instead turning her wrath on me.
“Get fucked, Bardot.”
“I’m trying, Red.”
She scoffs. “As if. I would never touch you with a ten foot pole.”
I pointedly look over to where she’s stabbing me in the shoulder with her finger. She immediately pulls back as though she’s been burned.
And maybe she has.
“You’re an asshole.”
“And you are too good for that dickhead.”
“Complimenting me now, Benoit? You’ve lost your touch,” she snips.
Humming, I push to stand. I stare at her before doing something astronomically stupid. I take a piece of her ponytail between my fingers, wrapping it once and tugging just slightly. “Hmm…” I watch as her eyes darken. “I don’t think I have.”
Forcing myself to let go, I walk away.
