Page 83 of What About Love

No. She cut off that train of thought abruptly.

Twice now, he’d fucked her—might as well call it what it was—both times against a wall, and then walked away, leaving her devastated. It was enough.

She knew what she had to do. It wouldn’t be easy. This was her town. She’d grown up here, her friends and family were here, and it was all that she’d ever known. But she was a fool to think she could stay, working where he did, having the same set of friends and playing at the club he co-owned. Being smack dab in the center of his world brought nothing except more pain and trouble for her.

It was time to move on. She’d give herself one more night with her girls then tell Cap to make it happen.

Wending through the crowd, she smirked as Elena belted out the perfect song for her situation, Kelly Clarkson’sWhat Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Stronger. Lord! She hoped that was true.

Pulling out a chair at their usual table, the girls’ smiles of greeting disintegrated as they got a glimpse of what she knew was her exceedingly harried expression. Ignoring them for the moment, she saw to her priority and flagged down a waitress.

“Tequila shooters, make it two, and keep ’em coming.”

“Uh-oh.” Lexie was the first to comment. “I recognize that face and the order. Man trouble.”

A nodding, Megan agreed. “I’ve seen that exact look in my own mirror. Talk to us, Ang.”

“Not in the mood, cuz.”

Her drinks arrived. Needing immediate liquid fortification, she salted her hand, licked it off, and downed the shot. While slamming her glass upside down on the table, she picked up a lime slice and sucked it vigorously.

“Ready now?” Mara asked, eyes wide.

Angie shook her head, thinking two would not be enough as she repeated the process with the second shot.

“How about now?” Meg prompted as Angie dropped the second decimated lime onto her cocktail napkin.

“No,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “I need to marinate in tequila for a good half hour before I’m ready.”

They gave her that, and she took it. Letting the liquor soothe her frazzled nerves, she watched and listened without uttering a single word as Elena finished her first set, took a brief break, and came back for her second.

As she walked on stage, she made an announcement. “Our next set settles a debt I have with a dear friend. Joanna, this is for you.”

The band opened up on a sick guitar lick that brought Joanna to her feet with an excited squeal.

“This is it,” she cried out, bouncing up and down as the band played a 1980s classic,Pour Some Sugar On Me, by Def Leppard. She whooped and hollered, singing along and dancing up a storm as the girls looked on with mystified amusement.

“Joanna!” Lexie cried at the end of the song. “Are you drunk?”

“I haven’t had a drop of liquor,” Jo called back as Elena plunged from the first song right into the next, a sultry rendition of White Snake’sIs This Love. “This is it.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” Megan shouted, in order to be heard. “What’s it?”

“An 80s rock set!” Joanne explained. “Elena’s payment on our bet!”

“What bet?” Lexie asked, also shouting.

“Silly girl thought I couldn’t get her the gig to play at the mayor’s wedding. I did. She lost. So I get this.” She threw her arms up in the air, enjoying every minute.

“You mean Peter’s brother’s wedding?” Lexie demanded.

Joanna turned and put a finger over her mouth, hushing her.

“You cheated!”

Joanna grinned. “Ah, but she doesn’t need to know that, at least not yet.”

They laughed at her exuberance because it all made so much sense. A child of the seventies who came of age in the eighties, Joanna was a rock, power ballad, hairband junky. It blared from her car stereo and was always queued up on her sound system at home. She’d been pestering Elena for years to add eighties music to her covers, but she always put her off. Until now, when she had no choice.

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