Page 18 of Told You So
“Does that mean I can collect a finder’s fee for everyone who walks in after me?”
“Oh, sure. Brady would love that.”
Franky grins and tips his beer at me. “Put it on my tab.”
“You got it.”
As I take a five spot from Bill, the door opens, the breeze coming with it, and I know it’s Bethany before I see her. Her sweet, sugary scent’s been branded to memory strongly enough to smell her coming a mile away. When I look up, her gray eyes meet mine. She nods in a surprising yet underwhelming greeting, before heading toward a round cocktail table in the corner of the room.
“Hey, Nick,” Anna Marie purrs as she saunters in behind her.
“Sup, girl?” I flash her a toothy smile. I barely got a head nod from Bethany, but Anna Marie’s an all-around cool chick—a flirt with a killer smile—but always easy to be around and I’m almost relieved she’s here.
I’m surprised, however, when her gaze settles on Bobby. “Hey,” she says and bats her eyelashes at him. A lot of chicks dig Bobby, it’s probably his hotshot, jock appeal and cocky smile, which I used to relate to.
“Hey.” Bobby smirks, acting cool and unaffected as Anna takes a seat at the table across from Bethany. The two of them together actually makes sense, and I suppress a grin.
Of course my gaze lands on Bethany, it always does. I tear my attention away, only to meet Mac’s. Her green eyes are fixed on me, filled with sympathy and uncertainty. I know what she’s thinking all too well when it comes to Bethany, and I quickly look away.
I don’t need any more reminders of just how bad this chick screws with my head when she’s in the same room, despite my best efforts. Sometimes I turn into an asshole. Sometimes I feel like a pitiful fool. Most of the time, I’m just confused by the past and distracted. Either way, it’s a mess—I’ma mess—and I have no idea why.
Grabbing a couple coasters, I pin my carefree, fun-loving smile into place and head over to their table.
Anna Marie’s smirk widens to a full-fledged smile when she sees me. “Looking good tonight, Turner. I thought after baseball you might lose your appeal, but those long days on the ranch really do you some good.” She winks at me, like a woman after my own heart.
I can’t help but wink back. “It’s all for you, darlin’.”
“Sigh,” she says longingly and bats her eyelashes at me. She’s really good at the playful banter, a worthy opponent that always makes my day a bit brighter. Part of me wonders if it bothers Bethany, though she never shows it. She’s really good at acting indifferent around me, even after our years of awkward run-ins and regrettable moments.
Anna folds her arms on the table and settles in. Like Bethany, her fingernails are perfectly manicured, her makeup and hair perfectly in place.
“So, where have you been?” I ask Anna. “I was starting to get a little offended—thought maybe you found a different hole in the wall to drink at the past few months.” No Anna Marie at Lick’s generally meant there was no smiling, drunken Bethany dancing beside her. A weekend staple I’d apparently grown used to.
“Are you kidding? I’d never ditch this place—too many memories,” she says, and with a feigned glare, she looks at Bethany. “Someone hasn’t been up for it much—plus”—Anna shrugs—“There’s exams and graduation,” she grumbles. “You know the drill.”
“Well, then,” I toss a napkin down for each of them, “I guess today’s a special occasion.”
“It sure is. Just a quick drink to celebrate my parents being out of town for a couple weeks, so I closed the salon tonight.”
“So, you’ll be the big boss lady for a while, huh?”
Anna Marie tucks her thick brown hair behind her ears. “Yep. And you know what that means.”
“Trouble,” I say easily. “Nothing but trouble.”
She giggles. “Yep.” I know exactly three facts about Anna Marie, other than she likes hanging out in Saratoga’s renowned dive bar: her mom owns the only tanning salon in Saratoga Falls, Anna loves Champagne, and she’s the only consistent person I’ve ever seen around Bethany since middle school.
Bethany clears her throat and starts digging in her purse like it’s a black abyss. I’m not sure if she’s really searching for something, or if this is her way of ignoring me. “Are you avoiding me?” I ask, surprising myself.
Her hands freeze in her purse. “What?”
“After class, when you come in here on the weekends—you avoid me. Now”—I glance down at her purse. “You’re avoiding me.”
Bethany scoffs and shakes her head. “I don’t avoid you,” she says flatly.
I eye her carefully. “Are you sure? Because I get the feeling that you are.”
“I’ve got a lot going on, Nick. It’s nothing personal.”
