Page 66 of With Stars in Her Eyes
He grimaced. “I might have borrowed the one on top about the scoundrel and the pirate since it seemed a little intriguing. The cover had swords on it.”
“You better put it back when you’re done with it.”
“When have Ieverjust stolen your stuff?”
I stopped and put one hand on my hip, using the other to count off items. “Let’s start with recently since I’ve been staying at your house. My new beanie—which I saw you wearing. My reading light, and I guess that makes a lot of sense now, and my favorite travel mug.”
“The mug’s in the car. I just keep forgetting to bring it inside. I’ll make it up to you by buying your beer tonight.”
“It’syourpub. You’re buying beer from yourself.” We were several minutes late, thanks to the indecisive client, which was already making me stressed. My breaths were coming faster than they should. I wasn’t in running shape.
“True.” He put a hand on both of my shoulders to stop me from my furious movement. He’d done this when we were kids too and I needed a pep talk. It was like a coach trying to refocus a star player. He starts with the look-me-in-the-eyes gesture, then takes a deep breath. “You got this, kid. You didnotscare her off. She’s going to be inside and waiting. We’re going to talk about the banter and discuss the best plot points and the Regency-era hot-duchess-on-lady-in-waiting sex, and then you’re going to go over to her house and—”
“I’m literally begging you not to finish that sentence.” I exhaled. “But okay. Icando this.”
“You sure can.” He released my shoulders, and if I were a dude, I was pretty sure he would have smacked my ass and pushed me onto the field to score a touchdown.
We marched up the stairs to the old church building that wassplit between Marshall’s pub and Jeannie’s plant shop. It really was a cool building. As I stepped inside, the first thing I noticed with a pang for Marshall was how empty and dingy it looked. This didn’t really make sense with the money that Marshall was putting into the place, but I filed that away to talk to him about later.
The second thing I noticed was that in the group of ten people in the far side of the restaurant, there was absolutely no sign of a soft blond pixie cut. Samantha sat in the center of the group beside Jeannie.
“I’m sure she’s just running late.” Marshall patted my shoulder.
She was not running late.
Courtney never showed up at all.
I tried to pay attention as the group ran through the list of discussion questions. I laughed when everyone else laughed. I tried to seem interested when someone asked if something was an anachronism versus artistic license. I fiddled with the pages of my copy of the book and pretended to page through to remind myself of some specific detail in the text. My ears perked up when Ms. Jeannie said the first kiss was just about the hottest thing she had ever read in a voice that sounded both chronically cranky and wry, which made Marshall blush.
Everyone laughed again, but I couldn’t bring myself to join in that time.
My mind was back to last night and the hottest kiss of myactuallife and how it didn’t seem to matter at all to the woman I had shared it with.
My finger snagged on the corner of the copy of the photo I had taken of Courtney. Part of me wanted to ball it up and throw it away, but I was spiraling. I’m sure therewasa logical explanation, but my heart refused to be reasonable.
Somehow I had downed four beers by the time Samantha closed her own book. This was more than I had drunk in a long time. Hot and bottled. More like Hurt and Empty Bottled.
I was so stupid.
After Samantha said goodbye to the first group who stood to leave, she turned to me. “Did she get in touch with you today?”
My mind was too hazy. “Who?”
Samantha’s expression held an amount of pity that would be alarming if I were sober enough to care. “Courtney.”
I scratched at the beer bottle label. “I thought she would be here tonight.”
“She had some legal stuff happen out of nowhere and had to get a flight out really early this morning.”
“So, sheison the lam?” I snickered and reached for the dregs of my last beer, but Marshall slid a glass of water into my hand. “Did she take the potatoes? What about Colin?”
Samantha frowned. “Huh?
“Drink up, kid.” Marshall nudged the glass another inch forward.
“Fine.” My rings clinked on the water glass as I guzzled it. Had I eaten anything today?
“And what have you been doing all day?” While Samantha’s voice had been gentle with me, it sharpened when she directed it at Marshall.
