Page 39 of Rebel Bride
By the time we got to Bellagio’s on the Water, my spirits had picked up because (a) new underwear and (b) I could now use my limited funds for a cocktail.
Our server practically had an orgasm on seeing Hatch.
“Hatch Kershaw, it’s been what? A year?”
“Just about, Millie. How’s Rich? Still working at the scrapyard?”
“Oh, yeah. He’s always finding the best stuff. You wouldn’t believe what people throw away. Who’s your guest?”
“This is a friend of my sister’s.”
“Shelby Mae,” I offered with my best Mississippi twang. “Charmed.”
“Awesome.” She turned back to Hatch. “What are your dad’s plans for next year?”
“Like he’d tell me,” Hatch joked, but I could hear a thread of strained patience in there.
“I’m sure you’d love him to stick around,” Millie said. “He’s such an inspiration.”
Once she was out of earshot, he said, “That Shelby Mae thing is getting a lot of mileage.”
“No one would think that gold-diggin’ Shelby Mae had just given up her big payday. The disguise is doing its job.”
“You can probably take off the Motors hat, you traitor.”
When Millie returned, I ordered a lemon drop martini while Hatch ordered a beer. I put my ball cap down on the seat beside me and looked out over the Kalamazoo River. The sun was low in the sky and the shimmer it cast over the water instilled in me a sense of calm I hadn’t felt for ages.
When I turned back, Hatch was staring at me.
“What? Should I put the hat back on?”
“You’re unrecognizable.” He seemed to shake himself out of some trance and returned to the menu. “What are you going to have? Steak looks good.”
It better had at a whopping forty-two dollars. Last week, I wouldn’t have blinked an eye at these prices.
“Caesar salad for me.”
“You ordered a fifteen-dollar cocktail and now, the cheapest item on the menu.” Said like I’d drowned a bag of kittens in the river out front.
“I had a snack earlier. Sub sandwich.”
“Liar. The lobster roll here is excellent. Drawn butter, touch of paprika, perfectly toasted bun.”
My mouth watered, my drooling obvious.
Millie returned with our drinks. “You ready to order?”
Hatch spoke first. “We’ll each have a lobster roll, Millie. And a side of the Mac ’n’ Cheese to share. Thanks.”
“No problem, Hatch.” She smiled at him, barely looked at me, and took both our menus.
“Very high-handed, ordering for me.”
“Sorry, does it remind you of your former fiancé?”
“He wouldn’t dare.” When we went out to dinner, Dash reserved his lord-and-master shtick for the staff. It was nice to dine with a man who didn’t feel threatened by the people who made and delivered his food.
Hatch raised his beer bottle. “To one day at a time.”
