Perfect Regret ( BOOK 2) (19 page)

O
f course the first thing I see when I pulled up at the newspaper was Garrett. Garrett sweaty and looking way too hot for his own good.

And Garrett was not alone.

Oh no.

Garrett was talking, quite intensely to my good ol’ buddy Gracie.

I sat in my car for a bit, trying to inconspicuously watch them. I was trying to decipher the hidden meaning in their body language. Okay, Garrett was standing with his hands in his pocket, so he wasn’t touching her. That had to mean he wasn’t interested, right?

But Gracie’s body was angled toward his which I seem to recall reading in one of those crap women’s magazines Maysie kept by the couch meant she was sending clear signals that she wanted him.

Their heads were bowed down and close as though they were trying not to be overheard. I squinted into the sun, trying to see them better. A knock on my window had me screaming like a ninny.

I spilled my cup of coffee all over my center console and let loose a string of curse words that would make a sailor blush. My car door swung open and the scowl on my face should have made the person responsible run screaming.

Of course that wouldn’t happen because not even my look of death could discourage Damien Green and his mission to whittle down my resolve to have nothing to do with him.

“Shoot, sorry Ri,” he said with a grimace as he took in the giant wet spot on my pants.

“It’s cool, I like walking around looking like I pissed myself,” I grumbled, finding some used napkins on the dash and tried to mop up the mess. I looked up and saw that the objects of my stalking were no longer talking and Gracie was making her way towards me with a huge grin on her face.

Wonder what put that shit eating smile on her face? Maybe I should smack it off just to make me feel better.

What the hell was wrong with me?

Gracie was my friend, not my competition in a non-existent race to get inside Garrett’s pants. Besides I would have already won that one. Booyah!

And yes, I did a mental fist pump. Because I’m mature like that.

Garrett was looking in my direction and I stared back, daring him to approach. Come on Guitar Boy, make my day.

God, someone rip out my inner Dirty Harry and beat the shit out of him please.

Garrett turned and went inside the building without so much as a wave. Okay then…

“Riley, what happened?” Gracie exclaimed, taking in my soaked pants.

I jerked my thumb in Damien’s direction. “Ask Mr. Scared Me Shitless over here,” I said with more than a little rancor.

“Well, let’s hit the bathroom before heading upstairs and get you cleaned up,” Gracie said, looping her arm with mine and pulling me toward the Bakersville Times building. Damien followed closely behind us.

This was the friendliest Gracie had been towards me in weeks and it made me instantly suspicious.

“I’ll get you another coffee,” Damien said eagerly as Gracie and I headed to the restroom in the reception area.

“Don’t bother,” I told him grumpily. I was annoyed. Annoyed that I had ruined my favorite pair of dress pants. Annoyed that Maysie dropped her moving out bomb on me first thing this morning. Annoyed that I had caught Gracie yucking it up with Garrett like they were BFFs.

And most of all annoyed that Garrett hadn’t acknowledged me. Not a wave or a nod of his head. Just big fat nothin’, like I didn’t exist.

It hurt.

It shouldn’t hurt.

I had made myself pretty freaking clear on how I felt about him. But still…

Great, I had morphed into one of
those
girls. The wishy-washy kind. I hated
those
girls. I think I needed a time out. Either that or a swift kick up the butt.

Gracie pulled out a grip full of paper towels from the dispenser and handed them to me. I dabbed my pants but figured I’d just have to deal with smelling like stale coffee for the rest of the day.

I tossed the towels into the trash and was about to head out of the bathroom when Gracie touched my hand. “Can we talk for a minute before going up?” she asked me.

Gracie looked like a vulnerable little girl but she was one of the fiercest bitches I knew. I knew she could be maliciously cruel or have your back in a cage fight. It was hard to tell which Gracie I’d have the pleasure of conversing with.

“Sure, what’s up?” I asked, figuring feigning ignorance my best solution at this point.

“First thing, how are you holding up? You know with your dad and all that?” Gracie asked and I relaxed a bit. Maybe we wouldn’t be having a chick fight in the bathroom.

“Eh, I have my days. Thanks for asking,” I said sincerely. I hoped this was a sign that our weirdness was at an end.

“I know things have been weird between us,” Gracie stated, reading my mind.

I laughed uncomfortably. “Weird like wearing different color of socks or weird like hanging out with your grandma at prom?” I asked.

“Uh, definitely grandma weird,” Gracie giggled and I felt myself relax a little bit more. This was good. We were being almost normal. Maybe our relationship wasn’t completely messed up.

Gracie’s eyes twinkled strangely and she had me off balance again. This was not the friend I was used to. This girl reminded me of the person I loathed before we had formed a friendship. The evil sorority girl that I wanted to eradicate from the planet Godzilla style.

“But it shouldn’t be, Riley. Garrett explained everything. He said it was a mistake. That the two of you would never be together. That he didn’t even like you enough to be friends,” she giggled even as she ripped me a new one.

“So that’s the plan? For you and I to snark out over a dude? Really? Because I’m not in the mood,” I said tiredly.

The bizarre gleam in Gracie’s eye disappeared and her face softened. She looked ashamed. “No, Riley. That’s ridiculous. You are one of my best friends. I just don’t want things to be uncomfortable. Garrett is just a friend. And you guys don’t even talk. So there’s no reason for us to tiptoe around him like he’s a stick of dynamite about to go off. Just promise me you won’t keep stuff from me in the future,” Gracie said, giving me a more genuine smile.

“Of course,” I placated, wanting the conversation over with. We stood there in awkward silence for a few more seconds until I started to develop a serious case of claustrophobia.

“We’d better get upstairs,” I said, making my way to the door.

“Yeah, we should. But let’s grab a drink after this. It’s been too long since we’ve done anything together,” Gracie suggested.

“Sure, sounds good,” I said distractedly, ready to put this strange discussion behind me.

Coming out of the bathroom, I found Damien waiting with another Styrofoam cup of coffee. I tried to be irritated with him. His need to make me happy was desperate and left a bad taste in my mouth. We had been there done that and I had the battle wounds to prove it.

“I’ve got to catch Garrett before I head up. Just tell Diane I’ll be right there,” Gracie said, heading off to another wing of the building.

My teeth clenched together painfully but I refused to comment.

So what? Gracie had to talk to Garrett. She had just said they were friends. Friends talk. Plus I didn’t care. Garrett could talk to whomever he wanted to.

And if I silently debated this out any longer, I’d look certifiably crazy.

I took the cup from Damien and gave him a smile. “You wanna come have a few drinks with Gracie and me after work?” I asked him. His face lit up and I felt the stirrings of warning in my gut. But I ignored it. I was through letting my gut do the talking around here.

“I’d love to,” he said, giving me that warm smile of his that used to make me melt. I was impervious to it now, but it still felt good to be in a place where I could accept that smile without bitterness.

I needed to focus on something, somebody that wasn’t Garrett freaking Bellows and the ambiguous status of his bed partner.

“Great,” I said with more conviction than I felt. We walked to the elevator together and I refused to question the sanity of my decisions.

“Y
ou invited Damien? Why?” Gracie asked as we drove to Hillbilly Tom’s, another local bar in Bakersville after our internship was over for the day. It was already six-thirty and I was ready for a drink or five.

I had been forced to cover a local flower show. Rioting good time it was not. Coming up with a hundred different ways to describe floral arrangements was not what I wanted out of my journalism career.

Damien had gotten to cover a fifteen-car pile up on the highway while Gracie had been invited to sit in on a court case involving a local dog-fighting ring.

And I had been handed the flower assignment. The gods were flipping me the bird that’s for sure.

I pulled in beside Damien at Hillbilly’s and cut off my car.

“I don’t know. I just offered. I thought it would be the nice thing to do,” I said, not feeling the need to explain myself. Actually I knew the reason I had extended the invitation and it had nothing to do with Damien.

“I just hope you know what you’re doing. He’s hanging onto some serious hope that you two will work things out. You’ll just be leading him on,” Gracie warned, pulling her lip gloss out of her purse and smearing some on her mouth.

“Who says I’ll be leading him on?” I asked irritably.

What?

I didn’t mean that. Why did I say that?

Gracie’s eyes widened. “Seriously?” she asked in disbelief, no doubt remembering my state of utter despondency after our epic breakup and my subsequent vows to never breath in Damien Green’s direction again.

“I don’t know. Just come on. I need a drink,” I said, getting out of the car. Gracie’s phone chirped and she started furiously tapping away.

“Girl, put the phone away and let’s get inside,” I said, though I was trying to sneak a peek at the screen.

“Sorry,” Gracie mumbled, finishing up her text. I looked over her shoulder and saw Garrett’s name and then made myself look away. Something was definitely going on between those two.

“Garrett’s gonna be coming by in a bit after he gets off work,” Gracie informed me almost defensively. She drew herself upright as though waiting for an attack.

“You sure are spending a lot of time together,” I commented, refusing to take the bait that Gracie seemed to be putting out there.

Gracie shrugged. “We like being together. I hope that’s not a problem,” she said, blinking at me innocently. What in the hell was she playing at? All day I felt as though I were being tested and I didn’t appreciate it one bit.

“Why would that be a problem?” I asked defiantly. Gracie opened her mouth but was interrupted.

“What’s taking you guys so long?” Damien called out from the front door. Suddenly spending time with my ex seemed almost bearable. Anything to avoid whatever was brewing with Gracie.

“Sorry, apparently Garrett Bellows is going to be joining us,” I said dryly and watched as Damien’s face paled.

“Is it all right that I’m here?” Damien asked looking at me pointedly. I sighed wishing everyone could just forget about that stupid show of testosterone at Barton’s.

“This is most definitely
not
a problem,” I said firmly and then flashed Damien my brightest smile. He seemed to relax then and the three of us found a table near the back.

“G and T?” Damien asked, making it a point to show that he remembered my usual drink.

“Sure, why not,” I answered, reaching into my purse to dig out some cash.

Damien held up his hand. “I’ve got this one. You buy the next round,” he said and I felt better knowing he was treating this as a casual get together rather than something more significant. He turned to Gracie.

“What about you Gracie? What’s your poison?” he asked. Gracie gnawed on her bottom lip and seemed conflicted, which was strange for her. I watched her closely trying to get a read on her mood. She had been trying to be cool up until she revealed Garrett would be joining us. Something told me he was the source of her sudden tension. I just couldn’t figure out why, considering the way she had thrown the information in my face.

“Uh, a beer. Yeah, just a beer. Something light. Like a Miller,” she finally said after an exorbant amount of time dilerbating over it.

Damien clearly didn’t pick up on Gracie’s strange attitude. He gave her a quick nod and headed for the bar to put in our order. Once out of sight, Gracie pounced. “What is up, Ri? Why in the world are you hanging out with Damien? On purpose no less?” she asked, eyeing me questioningly.

I shrugged. “Don’t you ever get tired of being mad at someone? Holding a grudge is exhausting,” I explained, hoping she would take my double meaning.

I had grown tired of being angry with Damien, particularly after it became obvious I wasn’t really mad at Damien as much as I was mad at myself. Mad that I had been caught off guard and that something I had depended on had dissolved under my feet without my realizing it.

But I was also speaking to Gracie and her apparent grudge against me. Even if she wouldn’t admit it existed. I saw it. I knew it was there.