Bait: The Wake Series, Book One(70)
“I'll let that slide, because I did it to you earlier,” I said. Then, I turned around to make sure she got the next part loud and clear. “Don't use your relationship with him as a weapon against me out of spite, Blake. I already f*cking hate it enough.”
I watched her cringe, scowl, and then soften in less time than it tooks to blink an eye. I couldn't be here for another minute longer.
“Goodnight,” I repeated and shut the door gently on my way out.
Even though I'd been the one to make the choice, I'd be lonely in bed without her.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
I WAS SO LONELY in that big bed after he left. I lay on my back, looking up at the ugly popcorn ceiling, thinking about everything. Again, my mind went to that pretend place where Casey was my boyfriend and then I fell into a wonderful sleep.
I dreamed that we were in a grocery store buying food and he kept filling the cart with paper towels. When I woke up remembering it, I thought to myself, I'll need all of those paper towels to clean up the huge mess I was making.
I dressed in a camel-colored, pleated skirt and a sleeveless black top, paired with some sensible black leather flats. I pinned my hair up in the back loosely and arranged my now longish bangs over to the side, to keep them out of my eyes. I wore my thick-framed, black glasses and minimal make up. This was a work event after all, not fashion week.
When I got to the convention center floor, I noted that Troy was already at the table across from mine and had everything ready to go. My help for the day was Melanie, and she was there, too. They were laughing at something when I walked up the aisle.
“Good morning, Melanie. How's it going?” I asked as I stowed my bag under a chair behind our tall signs.
“Good, so you know that guy?” she whispered with a blush across her cheeks. I could already see where that was headed. But they were both grown-ups, and really, who was I to question someone's behavior.
Melanie knew I was engaged.
She lived in San Francisco, same as the boys.
Who knew? She and Troy might actually hit it off. Melanie was just as crazy as what I'd seen out of Troy the night before. And she didn't have a problem hooking up at events, as I'd witnessed a few times over the past few months.
“Yeah, he's here with a guy I know. They live in San Francisco, too.” I could tell Troy was listening to our conversation, so I said louder, for his benefit, “Isn't that right, Troy?”
“You're from San Francisco? That's cool,” he answered and smiled at my colleague.
“Born and raised. Live in the Mission area,” she replied, beaming.
We finished getting the pamphlets out and making sure the sample food was holding its temperature as the hustle and bustle of a trade show ensued all around us.
It was forty-five minutes later before Casey finally showed up. When my eyes found him he was talking to a lady by the door and handing her his business card. I watched as he leaned in and whispered something in her ear and then gave her a huge Casey smile. He looked back at her as he took his first steps away.
My gut lurched.
My head knew better. I had no business being anywhere near jealous of any woman he was with, but I was anyway.
I pretended to be looking at something with an early attendee, but I watched him out of the corner of my eye. He always looked so alive. Well, apart from the night we met, when he’d been aloof and dismissive initially, then attentive and affectionate. I'd only seen him a handful of times, but every time was the same. The way he wore his clothes like he didn't care, but still managed to look like he stepped out of a catalog had me captivated.
He walked to us, smiling and waving at others, looking like he didn't have a care in the world. He wore red jeans—yes, red jeans—and a black scoop neck T-shirt tucked in loosely behind his belt. He was sexy as hell. Wild curls sprang from his head and he was unshaven, I wanted to say, “f*ck this show, let's go back upstairs.” Or, “hell, f*ck upstairs there's room under this table.” He looked that good.
Of course, he was there to peddle beer. And I bet he did a damn fine job. Casey was naturally charismatic and always looked like he was up to something. It's one of the things I liked about him the most. His playfulness.
When he walked past me, he looked over the gentleman's shoulder whom I was talking to, and in a mocking way pouted his lip and shook his head feigning agreement with what I was saying. I had to cough to disguise my laugh.