Being Me(Inside Out 02)(51)

“Interesting,” she comments, her lips pursing in a smirk that on her is still beautiful. On me it would just be twisted.
“What does that mean?”
“In all the years that man has been around my coffee shop, not once have I seen him with a woman. I figured he had some hottie back in Paris.”
I instantly think of the tattoo artist, and she might as well have punched me in the chest.
“Oh honey,” Ava purrs, grabbing my leg. “I upset you. I didn’t mean I think he has another woman. I was just telling you what I assumed because a man like that has to have women lined up.”
Lined up? Lots of women?
“Sara!” Ava exclaims. “He doesn’t have lots of women. You have it bad for Chris, don’t you?”
“I …” I nod. “Yes. I guess I do.”
She smiles. “He’s a catch, honey. Be happy, not paranoid. The man looks at you like you’re the biggest treasure on the island.”
“I thought you said he looks at me like he wants to gobble me up?” I ask, reminding her of the day Chris and I had both been in her coffee shop.
“That, too. That, too.” Her cell rings and she grimaces. “My ex. Grrrr. I can’t stand the man but I have to take it or he’ll call twenty times.” She stands up and walks to the other side of the lounge.
The attendant appears with a glass of champagne. “This is for you,” she states, handing me a note.
I frown and open it to find Chris’s writing. I put five thousand on my store account. Spend it or I will.
“Should I bring you some items to try on?” the woman asks, and the eagerness of her tone tells me she works on commission.
I’m also certain Chris is quite serious and that we have to have a chat about money.
“Yes, please,” I concede for now, and I give her a laundry list,
distracted from the money issue by the Paris issue, and what, or rather who, might await Chris when he returns. He asked you to go with him, I remind myself.
“You are the biggest prick I’ve ever known,” I hear Ava hiss a moment before she ends the call.
“Everything okay?” I query as she returns.
“He’s trying to get half the coffee shop.”
“Oh—are you going through a divorce now? I thought you meant your ex as in already divorced.”
“We’ve been separated two years. He’s dodged signing the papers and last year he started running around with some model to make me jealous. It didn’t work. Not only is he a jerk, but he has the sexual expertise of a Gummi Bear.”
I choke on a sip of champagne. “Gummi Bear?”
She smiles. “I prefer my men far more commanding than he will ever be.”
“Well, you have a prime prospect in Mark.”
Ava downs her champagne and cuts her gaze away, and I am quite sure I’ve hit a nerve. “Yes, well, Mark is the kind of man who tries you on for size and then moves to the next one.”
“You and he—”
“Fucked our brains out? Yes, but I knew the score. He’s an all-night kind of man, not an all-your-lifetime kind.”
“So … were you involved in his club?”
Her lips curve, more disdainful than amused. “You know about the club.”
“Yes. I know.”
“And are you a member?”
“No. That’s not for me.”
“No?”
“Not even close,” I say firmly.
“I guess that explains why Chris hasn’t been around.”
Has she seen Chris at the club? Yes, of course. She all but said that. Have they been together? I shove aside that ridiculous idea.
No. Absolutely not. Chris would have told me. And the way Ava runs her mouth, I think she’d probably speak up as well.
The attendant appears with an armful of clothes, and I rush to the dressing room and quickly close the door. Ava starts talking about some lingerie store I should go to, but I don’t hear half of it. I think back to her commenting about wanting to try out Chris, or some similar remark. I’m not jealous, but the remark continues to grate my nerves for reasons I can’t put my finger on. It’s not logical; she’s raved on and on about how Chris is so into me. Something about Ava is just not sitting right with me, though.
By the time I’m trying on my final items, a pair of dark blue jeans and a bright orange shimmering tank, I’ve managed to make small talk and Ava is so complimentary about my style, I really don’t understand why I’m so edgy with her.
I open the dressing room door to discover Chris has returned. Ava is sitting with her skirt hiked up her gorgeous crossed legs, facing him. Chris’s jacket is gone, his arms crossed and his tattoo stretched over impressive biceps. He’s staring at me but I can’t look him in the face. I feel awkward about this new knowledge that they are both members of a club I will never make part of my world. A club that Chris has made part of his.