Page 8
eight
A week had passed since Zeke and I last met, but the ache of disappointment still thrummed beneath my skin. Had I made a mistake asking about the woman he loved? Or was the bond we had more fragile than I’d thought? The questions swirled, persistent and heavy, weaving through my thoughts like an unshakable fog.
“Snap out of it!” Sal’s voice cut through the haze, sharp as the staccato beat of his fingers snapping in front of my face. “I’ve asked you three times already to out this trash.”
I jolted, blinking rapidly to clear the static from my mind. “Sorry, Sal. I’m just…distracted, that’s all.”
The bell above the door chimed, and I looked up, momentarily hopeful. But that optimism evaporated the instant I saw who’d walked in. Reggie. Of all people.
I stifled a groan, forcing a smile as I pushed myself up from behind the counter, my posture stiff. “Hey, Reggie. What brings you to this neck of the woods?”
He strolled up to the counter with an air of entitlement, his hand resting casually on the edge as he leaned forward, inspecting me with a touch of possessiveness. “Can’t a husband stop by to check on his lovely wife?”
Before I could respond, Sal cut in, his interruption as rude as ever. No surprise there. “Good thing you’re here, Reg. Brynie’s been a little off today. Maybe you can help us figure out what’s going on.”
Reggie’s eyes narrowed, a smug grin curling his lips. He took a step closer, leaning toward me with a calculated tilt of his head. His finger traced a path down my arm, cold and unnerving. “Is that so, Brynie girl?” he purred. “What’s been going on in that pretty little head of yours?”
I shot a sidelong glance at Sleazy Sal, then turned back to Reggie, flicking my wrist dismissively. “Oh, nothing. Just some insomnia, that’s all.”
Reggie ran his tongue slowly over his teeth. “I think I can help you with that, love,” he said, his voice syrupy and smooth. “You’ve been overthinking again. That never leads anywhere good. How do we fix that?” His eyes lit up, like he’d just come up with something brilliant. “A good book, perhaps? Non-fiction, of course. I’ve always found it…more enlightening.”
My eyes darted to Sal, who was barely holding back a snicker, his shoulders shaking slightly with suppressed laughter.
Reggie, still wearing that smug expression, scanned me for a reaction. Finding none, he glanced at Sal, his eyes narrowing in calculation before he straightened. “I’m here to discuss some business. Shall we confer in your office?”
Sal gestured toward the back room with an exaggerated sweep of his arm, the grin on his face widening. “After you, boss man.”
Reggie leaned in and tapped his cheek, a silent demand I knew better than to ignore. I closed my eyes, braced myself, and pressed a controlled kiss to his skin. His scent clung to me, sharp leather and faint musk. It smelled good, which only made me hate it more. He slid a slow hand through my hair, dragging the curls into his face as he inhaled deeply, like he was trying to claim the scent for himself. I fought the urge to pull back. He winked, mocking as always, and strode off after Sal.
As the door to the office clicked shut, I exhaled, my head dropping to the counter with a dull thud. Had Reggie told Sal about the book incident? Or was Sal just relishing the spectacle of Reggie being his usual insufferable self?
And if one more person called me “Brynie,” I’ll lose every ounce of patience I have left.
I gathered the trash, my arms straining under the weight, and leaned back against the door to push it open.
I trudged across the parking lot, frustration building with each step as I neared the dumpster, muttering curses under my breath. Just as I was about to reach it, an engine roared to life, pulling into a nearby spot. The towering pile of garbage in my arms blocked my view of the vehicle’s arrival.
I heard a car door slam, followed by a smooth, deep voice. “Let me get that!”
The dumpster lid creaked open, and in an instant, the heavy bags were lifted from my grasp.
That’s when I saw him—Zeke, his electrifying gaze anchoring me where I stood.
“Thanks,” I said, warmth rising in my cheeks as I glanced down at my now-empty hands. “I probably should’ve made that two trips.”
He flashed a dazzling smile, his perfect teeth gleaming in the sunlight. “No problem,” he replied, his voice smooth as velvet, effortlessly disarming. With a sly wink, he added, “Seriously, though, that was impressive.” His brow arched, genuine approval softening his expression. “Like I’ve said before, you’re not someone to mess with. Anyone who underestimates you is in for a rude awakening.”
I smoothed my apron, a nervous flutter stirring deep within me. Then I stepped back, suddenly aware of the possibility that I might smell like garbage.
“Smart man,” I said, sarcasm heavy in my tone as I pointed a finger at him.
Zeke’s gaze flicked to the entrance, and I followed it, catching a glimpse of Reggie hastily exiting. He didn’t spare me a second glance as he left. When I returned my attention to Zeke, a storm seemed to churn in his eyes, the fury there almost tangible. Did he know it was Reggie?
His expression quickly shifted back to his usual cheerful demeanor. “No time today, unfortunately,” he said, his voice overly chipper. “But I was hoping we could catch up tomorrow night over dinner—just as friends, of course. Thought we could grab some food and plan our next hike.”
A thrill of excitement pulsed through me, lighting up my face. I couldn’t help the eager rush in my words as I answered, maybe a little too quickly. “Yeah, that sounds awesome. I’d love to come.”
He clapped his hands in satisfaction and straightened his tie. “Great! How about we meet at Giovanni’s at 5:00 PM?”
My heart sank at the mention of Giovanni’s. It was way out of my price range. Zeke probably didn’t even think about the cost, but I was stuck on a tight budget. Maybe I could just stick to the bread basket and a glass of water.
I forced a smile, not wanting to let on about my financial concerns. “Yeah, that works for me. I’ll be there at 5:00.”
With a grin, he extended his fist for our secret handshake, and we both made the “boom” and “zap” sound effects at the same time.
As he opened the car door and slid in, he tossed over his shoulder, “By the way, dinner’s on me. You can, however, buy ice cream afterward. Loser buys, right?” He winked at me before driving off, leaving me watching the taillights disappear into the distance.
I took a moment, still feeling the warmth of our exchange, before heading back into the diner.
When I stepped inside, I immediately noticed the shift in Sal’s demeanor. His earlier cheerfulness had been replaced by a brooding intensity, his face clouded with anger and concern. It was clear that whatever business he and Reggie had discussed had left things on a sour note.
I moseyed back to the counter and settled into my usual spot, ready to tackle my crossword puzzle. Sal's annoyance radiated from him like a dark aura, his every glare grating on my nerves, as if he were trying to ruin my peace on purpose .
“What’s his problem?” he muttered to himself, his gaze fixed on some invisible point on the wall. “ I’m the one who keeps everything running smoothly around here. He should be thanking me.”
I gave him a blank stare, then turned my attention back to the puzzle.
He shot me a resentful look, his voice dripping with accusation. “You’re partly to blame for this, you know. If you’d just put in a little more effort at home, maybe he wouldn’t be so stressed.”
I blinked, stunned by the suggestion. “Me? I’m already running on fumes. I don’t know how I could possibly do more. I’m not the problem here.”
He scowled, disgust contorting his features. “You could try putting out a bit more. Maybe then he’d loosen up instead of being so uptight all the time.”
I froze, my gaze locking onto his face. Shock surged through me, but I found my voice. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t just hear you say that.”
The words stung, but not in the way they might have for a woman who still cared about her husband. Reggie and I didn’t share a bed, let alone intimacy—not anymore. We were strangers under the same roof, bound only by obligation and routine gestures that meant nothing. Sal’s comment was just another reminder of the cage I lived in. A cage of Reggie’s making, where I served, cleaned, and stayed invisible to him unless he needed to remind me of my place .
He leaned in, his breath searing my skin, his voice low and menacing. “Save the act for Reggie. I’m not buying it.”
My temper flared, hot and immediate. Overhead, the lights sputtered violently, jagged shadows slicing across the room. The air itself seemed to tighten, thrumming with an unseen charge. My chest constricted as I shot to my feet, fists clenched at my sides. Heat rose in my face, my skin flushing with frustration. I stepped toward him, forcing him back.
“What exactly are you implying?” I demanded, my voice steady and controlled, though the tremble in my hands betrayed me.
Sal’s fury flickered, just for a second, into something else. Wariness. His gaze cut to the lights as they dimmed, then flared back to full brightness, the tension thick and electric in the air. Then, just as quickly, his focus snapped to me again, his anger reigniting like a struck match.
“I’ve seen your tricks. I know your game. You’re manipulative, you’re hiding something , and I’m not falling for it.” His words were sharp, slicing through the space between us. “You might fool Reggie, but not me.”
I met his eyes, steady and unflinching. “You think you know me? You don’t.” My voice was edged with frustration. “Whatever story you’ve told yourself, whatever game you think I’m playing, you’re wrong.” I drew a slow breath, trying to calm the fire rising in my chest. “Your problems with Reggie are yours. Don’t dump them on me. I’m not part of whatever grudge you’re nursing.” I didn’t look away. The silence stretched. “If you need someone to blame, look somewhere else.”
I yanked off my apron, the fabric tearing with a faint rip, and grabbed my purse from the counter. Without another word, I stormed out, the door slamming behind me.
The walk home helped clear my mind. With each step, the tight knot in my stomach loosened. The sharp sting of anxiety ebbed away, replaced by the soothing crunch of fallen leaves beneath my feet and the cool, crisp air filling my lungs.
Manipulative? The nerve. He’s the one who constantly unloads his anger on me, expecting me to take it without question. I take enough from Reggie. I won’t take it from Sal too. I’m done being anyone’s emotional punching bag. It’s time to break free from this toxic cycle and find a new job. Now.
When I stepped inside, the warm glow of the living room greeted me. Reggie lounged on the couch with his legs crossed on the ottoman, radiating an air of relaxed contentment. The soft light caught in his blond hair, giving it a polished sheen that almost made him look angelic—if you didn’t know better.
“Hey, Brynie girl…” He squinted at me, a flicker of concern knitting his brow as he sat up. “You’re home early. What’s going on? ”
I dropped my purse onto the kitchen table with a deliberate thud, buying myself a moment to collect my thoughts. After a deep breath, I pushed my hair back behind my ears and tried to compose myself.
“Ugh. It’s just Sal being his usual over-the-top self,” I sighed, frustration spilling out in a rush.
Reggie’s lips curled into a sly smirk. “Sounds like Sal, all right. What did he do this time?” His voice softened, teasing, as if daring me to spill it.
“He’s being paranoid, thinking I’m hiding something,” I snapped, irritation making me word-vomit. “He’s convinced I’m manipulating everyone, and now he thinks I’m trying to pull something over on him . Like, what even is that?” I threw my hands up in exasperation. “He says I can fool you, but not him.” I rolled my eyes, air-quoting with my fingers, the words bitter on my tongue.
I didn’t even know why I said all that. I don’t share anything with Reggie. I don’t tell him what I’m feeling, what’s going on in my head. So why, all of a sudden, did those words spill out? Maybe I was just so tired of pretending, so tired of keeping it all inside, so tired of holding back—even if it was to him. So tired of it all.
Reggie’s easygoing grin faded, his expression twisting into a furious scowl that darkened his entire countenance. “He actually said that to your face?” His voice dropped low, dangerous, his complexion reddening with anger .
I glanced around the room, half-expecting someone to jump out and yell, Gotcha! Since when did Reggie get so worked up on my behalf?
I stared at him, utterly perplexed by his reaction. “Y-yeah?” I stammered.
“Don’t listen to him,” he growled, rising abruptly from the couch and closing the distance between us. His presence towered over me, heavy and charged. “I’ll take care of it.”
His gray eyes locked onto mine, unyielding and too intense to look away from. His hand shot out, fingers brushing the cold metal of my wedding ring, making me flinch. The touch was slow, deliberate, possessive—like he was marking his territory, grounding me to him.
“Forget everything he said to you.”
He lifted my hand, his gaze fixed on the red ruby at its center. He rubbed his thumb over it, softly kissing the stone before letting my hand drop with finality.
He didn’t say another thing, just stormed out, leaving me frozen in place, the silence thick with the remnants of his words.
My mind raced, trying to process what had just happened. Was I in some alternate universe where Reggie had briefly turned into a decent human being?
I shook my head, forcing the ridiculous thought away. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We all knew Reggie wasn’t exactly built for kindness, and this sudden outburst of empathy felt completely out of character .
Unease curled in my stomach. Something wasn’t right. I had no idea what Reggie’s game was, but I was determined to figure it out.