Page 111 of Angels & Whiskey

I should have known goingto a new coffee shop wouldn’t be a good thing. Brandi wanted to grab coffee and dinner near the movie theater where we decided we wanted to see a new movie at. I still hadn’t told Gabe we were going to a movie, but I knew he wouldn’t care. He wasn’t like Rich.

Or so I thought.

The moment my gaze fell on Gabe’s and the woman with the strawberry blonde hair, I knew I was right about one thing—Gabe wouldn’t give a shit where I was. I just didn’t know it was because he was out with another woman. I couldn’t believe my eyes. We were just starting our relationship and since we had been together, we were inseparable. I’d had no idea he was seeing someone else.

“Who was that?” Brandi asked, pulling out of the parking lot.

“His … Gabe’s …” I couldn’t finish the sentence.

“His girlfriend?”

“What did it look like to you?” I asked, staring out the windshield.

“It looked like he was cozy as fuck with her.”

“I know,” I sighed.

We’d sat in silence for a few seconds before Brandi asked, “Do you still want to go to the movies or should I take you home?”

“Home …”

Where was home?The house Rich died in? Gabe and Paul’s house? Did I even have a house to call home?

“No. You know what, B, let’s go out drinking. Fuck this shit, I’m single. I can do whatever I want to.”

“Are you sure about this?”

“Should I just go back to Gabe’s and wait for him to tell me another lie?”

“No, you’re right. Fuck the movie. Let’s go have shots!”

By the time we arrived at Blue Martini, it felt as if my life was spiraling out of control. I didn’t know when my life had changed. Maybe it was the moment I’d decided to leave Rich, or maybe it was the moment I bumped into Gabe.

The man I was married to was dead.

The man I wanted as a possible boyfriend was out with another woman.

I grabbed my phone, my ID, and some money to stick into my pocket because I didn’t want to carry my purse into the bar. I noticed I had a missed text message:

Gabe:Angel, it’s not what you think. Please meet me at home. I’m on my way.

I groaned. It’s not what I think? What was I supposed to think? He was up close and personal with some chick and it’s not what I think?

Whatever.

I didn’t respond, and I sure as hell wasn’t about to runhome. I stuffed my cell phone in the back pocket of my jeans and rounded the hood of the car to wait for Brandi to be ready.

“I’ll buy you your first shot.” Brandi smiled as we walked toward the entrance of the bar.

I smiled back. “Thanks.”

We made a beeline for the heavy oak bar.

“What do you want?” Brandi asked as we waited in line.

“Fireball, of course.”

Brandi laughed. “It’s a cinnamon whiskey kinda night?”