The Friendship List(34)



“Why is that so surprising?”

“Because in all the years I’ve known you, you’ve never once mentioned karaoke as a hobby.” He flashed her a grin. “Having said that, I’m impressed by your ability to clear the room.”

“I didn’t want to clear the room. I wanted them to go sing with me.”

He frowned. “For real?”

“Yes.” Unexpectedly annoyed, she picked up her purse and glared at him. “You don’t know everything about me. I have a whole life that doesn’t include you. A social life, in fact.”

Which wasn’t exactly true, but why worry about details?

He stared at her. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” She got up.

“Are you going to try to find a karaoke bar?” he asked, sounding worried.

In a strange town when they had an early start in the morning?

“Probably not. But I could if I—”

“Wanted. Yes, I know. Are you all right?”

“Fine. Perfectly fine.”

She flounced out of the restaurant and headed back for the hotel. She was hurt and mad and confused and a lot of other emotions that made no sense.

Stupid list, she thought as she went up in the elevator. Stupid everything.

She stood in the center of her room, not sure what to do now. It was barely seven. No doubt the teens had all retreated to the safety of their rooms, hoping to avoid other adult encounters. The boys were doubled up while Keith, Lissa and she each had their own space.

After pacing for a few minutes, she walked over to the closet and stared at the clothes hanging there. It took only a few seconds to pull off what she was wearing and put on a blue sleeveless wrap dress. She tugged off the band holding her ponytail in place, slipped on the wedge heels, slung her purse over her shoulder and marched out of her room.

There was a bar downstairs. She was going to sit there and get drunk. Okay, maybe not drunk, but she was going to have a glass of wine, just like regular people did all the time. And if she got a little drunk, then yay her. So there!

  Keith was used to the road trips being stressful but he’d never thought any of his worries would be about Ellen. She was dependable, unflappable and a good friend. Or at least she had been before tonight. What had gotten into her?

Thirty minutes after she’d walked out of the restaurant, he couldn’t stand it anymore and went up to her room. Only she didn’t answer when he knocked. He tried texting, but she didn’t answer that either.

Not sure what to do, he went back to the lobby. On a hunch, he made his way to the bar where he found her at a small table, staring at what looked like an untouched glass of white wine.

He crossed to the table and took the seat opposite.

“Go away,” she said without looking at him.

“Why do you have a glass of white wine? You hate white wine.”

“It’s what women order in bars.” She glared at him. “Did I tell you to go away?”

“You did. I’m ignoring you. Why do you think women order white wine in bars?”

She waved her hand. “It’s what they always do in books and movies. They have a glass of white wine. It’s classy.”

“Not if you don’t like it.” He rested his forearms on the table and leaned toward her. “Ellen, why are you here?”

Her gaze met his. “Are you asking in the existential sense?”

He ignored the need to laugh. “No. Why are you sitting in a bar?”

“I want to get drunk. I rarely do that, you know, except with Unity. I’m very responsible. It’s boring. I’m boring.” She glared at him. “There’s your answer. I’m sitting in a bar because I’m tired of being a boring person.”

She usually wore her long hair up in a ponytail, but now her hair was loose and tumbling over her shoulders. The new style suited her, making her look sexy and appealing. Not that he would notice. There was no sexy Ellen for him. No way. She was firmly in the friend column in his life. That was how he liked his relationship with her. Friendly and uncomplicated.

There was a reason he avoided getting involved with a woman close to home—he didn’t want the messiness. He had a good life that he enjoyed—his present difficulties with Lissa aside. Ellen was a part of that. He depended on her and he wasn’t comfortable with all the changes.

But leaving wasn’t an option. He and Ellen had each other’s backs. Something had obviously happened to her and he was going to figure out what it was and then fix it. After that, things would go back to what they’d been.

He waved over the server. When she pulled out her pad, he pointed to the white wine. “She’s not a fan. Why don’t you bring her a cosmo and I’ll have a vodka tonic.”

“Sure thing.”

Ellen’s eyes widened. “A cosmo. That’s perfect. I love Sex and the City. I should have thought of that.” She sighed. “You know, I’ve never had one, probably because I don’t live a cosmo kind of life.” She shook her head. “Is it wrong to blame my parents for that?”

He leaned toward her again. “Ellen, what’s going on?”

She hung her head. “It’s too embarrassing.”

“I doubt that.”

She put her hands on the table, then tucked them under the table. After shifting in her seat, she opened her mouth, closed it, then groaned.

Susan Mallery's Books