Page 69 of Lost Love

“But he should have squeezed my ass?” I twirled the end of my hair, exasperated.

He sighed out. “That’s just what guys do, especially when they’re with their friends.”

“Geez. It’s nice to know where you stand on the issue. Well, anyway, I have to run. I’m meeting Lourde now. Oh, and thank you for your concern,” I rasped with sarcasm.

“Pepper, angel, I don’t mean it that way.”

“Sure you don’t.”

“Are we still on for dinner tomorrow night? I booked your favorite restaurant in West Soho.”

I promised myself I’d try with Jake. We had a history. I owed it to us to work on it, and it was the best Italian in all of Manhattan.

“Yes, fine.”Whatever.“Lourde’s here. I have to run.”

“Love you,” he said.

I almost laughed out loud. “Yeah, I’m not there yet, Jake.”

“Okay, okay.”

I hung up the phone, more irritated than when I answered his call. Picking up the menu, I vacantly stared at the piece of paper while silently fuming.

What kind of man didn’t stand up for his woman? Yes, I could stand up for myself, and I did, but there was something noble about a man going to the ends of the earth for his woman. Call me traditional, but I’d want my boyfriend to give a fuck if someone else was touching my ass.

“What will it be?” The server had her trusty pad and pen at the helm.

“Espresso. Actually, make it a double shot,” I said. “And I’ll order for my friend who’ll be here any minute. She’ll have an English breakfast tea… hold the milk.”

I’d used Lourde’s arrival as an excuse to end the phone call. If I hadn’t, I was a breath away from telling him to fuck off completely.

“Done.” With a trusty smile, the server retreated.

I put my ankle up on the third seat. It hurt having walked on it from the Uber to the café out front of Barrett’s building where Lourde worked.

“Sorry I’m late, the kitchen designer had to redo her plans and couldn’t do it without me.” Lourde slid into the red leather seat opposite, looking suitably polished, with her hair pulled back in a high chignon.

“No sweat. I’ve ordered you tea.”

“Excellent. How’s the foot?” She glanced down at my elevated foot perched on the seat. “What are you wearing shiny red heels for? Are you insane?”

“Certified.” We both chuckled. “You know I love heels too much to part with them for just a sore ankle. Which is most likely a sprain, I might add.”

The server appeared, setting down our coffee and tea.

“Thank you.” I took the espresso to my lips, needing an instant pick-me-up.

“Did you order any of those pastries in the window?” Lourde asked.

“What pastries?” I took a sip, the coffee sliding down my throat.

The server let out a giggle. “You’re joking, right?” Lourde eyeballed me, prompting me to turn and seek out the mystery pastries.

The entire front window was filled top to bottom in pastries. I don’t know how I’d missed it. I let out a laugh.

“What? I was on the phone with Jake when I walked in!”

“Well, that explains it then.” She turned to the server. “We’ll take the pain au chocolat and the apple strudel.”

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