Page 66 of Waiting for Acceptance
“Hmm,” she hums, giving me a suggestive look. Making me curious what exactly was going through her dirty little mind. I get déjà vu walking into the airport with her, only this time she insists we part ways so she can grab us coffee while I go to the restroom.
“I’ll meet you there in a sec. Here.”
“What’s this?” She holds the cash up with a frown.
“You know the drill, coffee’s on me, Trouble.” I wink at her and she gives me a sassy glare.
“Wow, and I didn’t even have to put out for it this time,” she teases. I watch her walk through the airport like she owns the damn place. She seems so different. So light, confident, dare I say…happy? I smile when I see her hold her phone up to take a photo of the coffee shop before heading to the bathroom. I checkmy texts when I stop outside the restrooms, seeing the message that came in from my mother last night, having that same sense of irritation roll over me when I read it again.
Mother
Dad’s party is rescheduled for next Thursday at 5pm. Attire is still black tie. The venue scheduled maintenance on the same day we had the place rented out. They gave us a 50% refund, the imbeciles. Anyways. Don’t forget to get your father a nice gift and why don’t you come to this one alone. We have things we need to discuss.
Two more months. Only two more months of having to go along with my parent’s bullshit before I’m the one in control of my own future. I pocket my phone and head to the coffee shop, stopping short when I’m gifted the gut punch of seeing Lauren hugging another man, smiling at him like he lit every star in the sky.
I’m so not in the mood for this today.
“How long are you in town for?” I hear her ask before I clear my throat and get their attention. Her head whips to the side and her smile falls when she sees me.
Well, that fucking hurts.
“Fitz. Hey.” Her cheeks turn red when she looks back at the guy then over at me again.
“Hey yourself.” I force myself to muster up a smile. “Who’s your friend?”
“Hugh Burgess.” The charming bastard introduces himself, holding his hand out to me.
“Fitz.” I nod, giving him a firm handshake.
“Fitz, huh? How very poetic.” He laughs. He has this carefree and confident air about him that makes me kind of hate him.“Okay, Love. I have to be going, but call me when you’re free this week.” My eyes pop and I look at Lauren who is smiling andnodding.
“I will.”
You will the fuck not.
“So great seeing you.” He puts his hand on her shoulder and squeezes before offering me his hand again. Would it be completely irrational to…I don’t know? Break it. “Lovely meeting you as well, Fitz.”
He’s barely out of earshot and I’m practically fuming. “So…who’s the French motherfucker calling youLove?” Her eyes pop and she begins looking around before pulling me off to the side, careful not to spill her drink.
“Lower your voice, would you?” She glances around again, ensuring we have privacy in the little alcove we’re standing in on the other side of the coffee shop. “He’s a friend of mine, and he’s from Australia, not France.” She gives me a puzzled look.
“A friend?” I ask skeptically.
“Yes.”
“A friend you’ve slept with before?” I watch her cheeks redden again as her eyes widen and a shred of her confidence disappears.
“Why exactly does that matter?”
“Well, if you tell me he’s a friend of yours likeLutheris a friend of yours, then I can accept the little nickname and the possible plan-making. If he’s a friend of yours likeI’ma friend of yours, then it matters.”
Her chest is rising and falling more rapidly when she answers. “And if he’s not a friend of mine like Luther is?” My jaw tightens, waiting for a clearer answer, and she crosses her arms over her chest. “We have…intimate knowledge of each other.” A humorless laugh leaves me as the jealousy in me grows in leaps and bounds.
“You’re not meeting with him this week.”
“Fitz, he’s just a friend. I haven’t seen him inthatway in a really long time.”
“Then a little bit longer won’t kill you, will it?”
