Page 109 of Mr. Red

I should’ve just told him I needed more time earlier. But he didn’t tell me he would be done with his project early. We both should’ve been better at communicating.

He also should’ve been better at controlling his temper. For being a control freak, he has no control in that department. As soon as something doesn’t go his way, he turns into the ape on crack.

He wouldn’t consider a different timeline for me, but now he wants me to consider taking him back.

Should I?

Chapter 62

Matt

She called. I’m picking Scarlett up for dinner tonight. I need to clear the air on everything and I want her to know I won’t leave her ever again. Tonight is going to be the night; I’ll know if she’s willing to try a relationship again, or if I should stay put in Texas, alone.

I told her I would go back to Texas, but I don’t think I could go back without her. It doesn’t feel like home anymore without her there. I don’t want to think about the second option. I won’t ever be able to forget Scarlett; not having her in my life will be fucking horrendous. I hope it’s not an option.

Her agreeing to dinner is a step in the right direction, I think. I hate not knowing what’s going on.

Be patient, Matt.

I throw on a black jacket over a dark red button-down shirt. I’m taking her toTony’s, the nicest restaurant in this small town. Hopefully what I have to say will be enough for her to want to be with me again.

I get into my car, gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles are white. I take in a deep breath, start the engine, and let it out.

Here we go.

Chapter 63

Scarlett

Matt pulls up to the sidewalk. Before he can get to the door, I start walking towards him down my long pathway.

He’s out of the car when he notices me. “I was going to meet you at your door.” He twitches his wrist. Then he clears his throat and straightens his back. “It’s nice to see you. Let me get the car door for you.”

I give a sarcastic grin and step inside the car. “Thank you.”

Once he’s in his seat, he reaches for my knee before he catches his hand and pulls it away. This isn’t awkward or anything.

The drive to the restaurant is quiet. I choose to not make any conversation. Since Matt doesn’t say much, there’s not a lot going on in here. He pulls up to park near the restaurant in downtown. The sun has gone down. It’s winter in Washington, and the nights are cold and rainy.

I have a trench coat on, with ankle boots and black skinny slacks. It’s what I would wear to a business meeting. I’m playing this out in a professional manner.

I decided against wearing the necklace he gave me. I don’t want him thinking I’ve been pining after him and will jump right back into his arms.

Matt is showing me he’s trying. He’s showing me he misses me. But I want more. I want to be one thousandpercent sure I can talk to him, rely on him, and be my own person. I need him to understand.

He’s at my door in one second flat, offering his hand as he helps me out of the car. He walks a little in front of me and opens the door to the restaurant,Tony’s.

The hostess greets us and takes us to our table. No one else is around in the vicinity.

My curiosity gets the better of me. “Did you rent out the restaurant again?”

“I want us to have privacy.”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. He still hasn’t gotten the memo he’s worth more than his money. We could’ve talked in the car. We could’ve gone on a hike to talk. We could’ve just had a conversation at one of our places.

This is formal. The white tablecloths, the candles on the tables, the low lighting. It’s not lost on me that our table is the only one with red roses. Matt never says what he’s thinking; you have to read between the lines. I’m seeing he cares for me. I’m seeing he wants us to be together. I need to hear it, though. I need to know why he wouldn’t talk to me after he left. I need tohearhow he feels.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me,” he begins. “Would you like something to drink first?”