Lead (Stage Dive, #3)(46)

Jimmy exhaled gustily and did not smile. “Great. So I’ll expect her back, what … about three, four hours?”

“Ah, sure,” said Reece, brows high.

“Ignore him.” I did up the buttons on my coat with great haste. “Jimmy, I’ll check in with you later. Have a nice night.”

“Drive safe,” he commanded, stern gaze never moving from my date’s now troubled face. “Slow.”

“Always do,” said Reece, taking a few steps down the path, obviously eager to be gone.

I wrestled the door handle from Jimmy’s grasp and pushed at his hard flat stomach. “Go inside, it’s cold.”

He stayed put. There was much angry gazing going on.

“What’s your problem?” I whisper hissed.

“I don’t like the look of him.”

“He looks fine.”

Icy eyes cast me more doubting glances. “No, there’s something about him.”

“Jimmy.”

“It’s the glasses, I don’t trust them. I think he’s trying to hide something.”

“I wear glasses.”

He shrugged and gave me his well-there-you-have-it look. The idiot.

“He is not an axe murderer. He’s a longtime friend of Anne’s,” I said, keeping my voice low. “You promised to behave.”

“But what if—”

“You promised.”

His mouth snapped shut. After one final glare at Reece, he relented, thank god. Few things had ever sounded as sweet as the click of the lock when I closed the front door.

“Okay,” I breathed, giving my date a relieved grin. “We’re good to go.”

“He always like that?”

“No, well … he worries sometimes, I guess.” I didn’t know how to explain the recent emergence of Jimmy’s proprietorial instincts. He didn’t want me, therefore, he really needed to cut the crap.

“Anne told me a bit about you and the situation with Jimmy. How you work for him and all.” Reece shuffled his feet. “I’m really not an axe murderer.”

“Oh, you heard that. Good.”

“No worries.” He returned my inane smile with a laugh. “Let’s get going.”

Reece drove an older model hatchback, and he did indeed drive it slow and careful as directed to one of the movie theaters in town. The man immediately bought a large bucket of popcorn thus endearing himself to me immensely. To enjoy the importance of snacks was no small thing. We wandered through the lobby, checking out the movie posters and advertising paraphernalia. You couldn’t rush deciding which film to sit through. Choose unwisely and you didn’t get those two to three hours of your life back, let alone the money.

“There’s stuff exploding in this one.” I pointed to the latest Hollywood blockbuster. “And car chases.”

“You don’t want to see this?” He turned instead to this week’s go-to dating film. A couple were laughing as they stood in the rain. How clichéd, I only barely held in my groan. It even starred Liv Anders, the latest in slinky blonde Hollywood starlets.

Kill me now.

“I don’t know.” I hedged.

“Anne said she thought you might enjoy it.”

There was something in the way he said her name, something I chose to ignore for the time being. He had after all bought popcorn. This date had to go better, it just had to.

“I bet it all ends in tears,” I joked. “The heroine probably catches cold from standing in the rain and dies of pneumonia.”

He blinked. “Anne said it had a happy ending. She thought we might like it.”

Oh no, there it was again, the out and out reverence. Holy relics were spoken of with less awe than Reece speaking Anne’s name. The sinking feeling came stronger this time, it swamped me. Politeness dictated I not ask outright if he’d agreed to date me tonight to make another woman happy. Suspicions, however, were strong.

“Anne suggested it?” I asked.

Smile in place, he nodded so fiercely I feared his neck might snap from the strain.

“Anne’s really great.” I shoveled popcorn into my mouth, watching him instead of the posters. And there it was, all the drama my night could ever need. I hadn’t even had to buy a ticket to watch the wreckage of unrequited love played out in 3D. Not a single vehicle was hurt or chased in the making.

“Yeah, she sure is.” A dreamy faraway look came into his eyes. I sincerely hoped I didn’t look like that when I thought about Jimmy. How embarrassing.

“You think she’s happy with Mal?” he asked. “I mean, he seems to be treating her okay, right? They’re not about to break up or anything are they?”

There could be no missing the distinct note of hope in his voice. A chill seeped into my bones despite our being in doors. My heart cried loud ugly tears. What a mess. Tonight was a tragedy. When it came to love, a gypsy with a perverse sense of humor had cursed me at birth, of this I was certain. Because the only other thing all of these phenomenally bad dating choices had in common was me, and blaming myself did not appeal.

“I don’t think so,” I said gently. “They seem committed. In love.”

“Right.” His mouth turned down at the corners. Kicked puppies looked less downtrodden.