Marry Screw Kill(15)

“Enjoy.” Stephanie places the menus down in front of us. “Your server, Jonathan, will be right with you.”

The engagement ring on my finger flashes at me as I open the menu. My hand starts to tremble with nerves, so I make a wise decision—finally.

“I’m going to move over here.” I slide into the next chair, bringing my menu with me.

There’s more of a we’re friends space between us now. I exhale, but my hands continue to shake a bit.

“Why did—” Sin starts to speak, but our server walks up and I cringe, my senses going on high alert.

“Jonathan?” I ask, but I don’t know why. I’d know this guy from one-hundred feet away. He has stalked me for years. Years. I haven’t seen him since before my mother died. It would be my dumb luck to run into him tonight.

“Harlow?” He has a wide-eyed look of surprise before curling his lip up into a stomach-turning smirk. He must think it’s sexy, but creepy is a better definition. Yuck.

“Hi, Jonathan.” The smirk continues, and so does his full-on appraisal of my breasts. He glances down at my hand and scowls, not missing the rock on my finger.

“It’s been a long time. How are you?” He places a couple glasses of water and some bread on the table, and turns his attention to Sin, knitting his brow. I hope he thinks I’m with Sin. That will really have him confused.

“Good, and thirsty, thanks.” I’ve never been able to be a complete bitch to Jonathan, although I’ve been tempted. I look across the table to a grinning Sin.

“How about a couple drinks, Jonathan?” Sin winks at me and I can’t help but smile back at him. His charm disarms me, and likely every woman he meets. “I’ll take a Jack and Coke. Hold the Coke for now. And bring this lovely lady whatever she wants.”

“Dirty martini for me, don’t hold the dirty or olives,” I say, returning Sin’s wink, which is really stupid and totally out of character. A slow, sexy smile rolls over his lips and his eyes darken. He liked that a lot, maybe too much. Crap.

Poor Jonathan stands there glancing back and forth between us with narrowed eyes. I should introduce Sin, but I don’t want Jonathan to stay a second longer, and thankfully, he doesn’t. He tucks his tray under his arm and heads toward the bar, but I cringe knowing he has to return again, and again.

“I think I made him feel uncomfortable. He seems to be a fan of yours. An old friend?” Sin leans on his elbows over the table and eyes me like I’m on the witness stand. He wants the truth about Jonathan, so I’ll give him the abridged version. No need to bore him with stalking issues from back in high school.

“He moved to Rochester in eighth grade and has tried a million times to get me to go out with him.” I sigh, remembering back to the days when I couldn’t walk away from Jonathan fast enough. I hope he doesn’t get weird tonight in front of Sin.

“He seems smitten.”

“Let’s say he was persistent.” I roll my eyes to emphasize my point.

“I can understand where he’s coming from, though.” What did he just say? I raise my head high and look at him in shock as a quiet heaviness encircles us.

Needing a moment to regroup, I study the menu until Jonathan arrives with our drinks.

“Here you go, Harlow.” He stares at me as he sets my martini down. I watch the glass tilt and tumble over before a stream of vodka flows down onto my white dress. Great.

Jonathan grabs a cloth napkin off the table and begins to rub the wet area of my dress, which means his hands are all over my thighs. He’s breathing hard as I try to swat his hands away from me.

“Stop,” I say through gritted teeth, but Jonathan pays no heed.

“Not cool, man.” Sin sounds pissed and pulls the napkin out of Jonathan’s hand. He hands it to me, but it’s too wet to be used.

“I’m so sorry, Harlow,” Jonathan pleads while standing, but I ignore him and glance around for a restroom.

“Where’s the bathroom? I need a moment.” A bumbling Jonathan points to an even darker area in the back. I snatch up my bag and take off.





Chapter Nine


Sin



“Dude, you need to calm the f*ck down.” This tall, geeky kid has gone bat shit crazy. Ever since Harlow left the table, he’s been uttering something about his one true love and that damn doctor over and over again as he swipes the table bone dry. “Take a few deep breaths, man, before you pass out.”

“Right,” he squeaks out in a high-pitched voice, then inhales and exhales a couple times, which makes him quit stammering for a few seconds. “I’m cool. I’m cool.” He straightens the black apron around his waist, but his shoulders are so tense, they’re nearly touching his ears.

“So, did she break up with Dr. Elliott? Is that why you’re here with her?” He continues running his mouth before I can answer his questions, so I sit back in my chair and let him. “He keeps her locked up at his home. No one sees her out anymore. I heard she goes to the grocery store, stuff like that, and the country club, but that’s it.”

“Hold up. What do you mean ‘he keeps her locked up at his home’?” I squint at him, trying to assess whether he’s just worked up or actually telling me the truth.

“So, you don’t know about them? Who are you, by the way? I’ve never seen you around here before, and you’d be hard to miss.”