Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 79670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
“I’ll have whiskey on ice,” she orders, and he just smirks at her, and in my mind, I see myself throat-punching him. He looks at me and I don’t smirk at him, actually, I glare at him so he gets the point that if he wants to live, he will leave.
“I’ll have water,” I tell him and he nods at me, turning and walking away. I wait for him to be out of listening distance before I ask, “Since when don’t you drink white wine?”
“Since I’ve moved on.” She doesn’t skip a beat nor does she even look at me; instead her eyes are looking at the menu. I try not to let the sting get to me, but it fucking does. I also know that this is what I have to do to get her back.
“How do you like living in Dallas?” I change the subject, and she shrugs.
“I’m close to my family, so I guess it’s nice.” My eyebrows pinch together.
“I thought your family lived in New York,” I ask and she finally puts the menu down and looks at me. She sits forward, putting her arms on the table crossed in front of her.
“I have family in New York and Dallas,” she finally says.
“I saw that your sister is expecting a baby.” I take a sip of the water because I’ve never been so nervous in my whole life.
“She is, a baby boy.” She smiles, and I can tell she is proud. In the time we were together, she would talk about her family often, but in general and not as a whole.
“With the hockey player,” I prompt. She nods, and Bruce comes over again to interrupt us.
“Here is your whiskey,” he says, putting the drink down in front of her, but this time, he doesn’t look at her. “The chef would like you to know that he is sending out some dishes for you to try.” He looks at me. “If that is okay, Mr. Beckett?”
The minute he says my name, I see Gabriella look around again. “That is fine.” I nod at him, then look at her. “Is there anything on the menu that you saw that you want to try?”
“I’m good,” she states, grabbing her drink and bringing it to her mouth. She takes a sip, and I’m jealous of a crystal glass. Bruce walks away while she puts the glass down on the table.
“What are you looking around for?” I ask as she looks at me. “Are you looking for the paparazzi?”
“Yes.” She looks around again to see if anyone has their phone up. The place has filled up since we sat down, and there is chatter everywhere. “Aren’t you?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I really don’t care.” I make sure she is looking at me when I say that last line.
“We were together for seven months,” she reminds me between clenched teeth and with a smile, just in case someone is filming or taking a picture. “And there was not one picture of us anywhere. When we went to the beach, we didn’t even walk close together.” My stomach tightens when she says the last line.
“I’m different now,” I say because she isn’t wrong.
She rolls her eyes at me. “Whatever,” she mumbles.
“I know I have a lot to make up for,” I say softly, and she holds up her hand to stop me from talking.
“That is where you’re wrong,” she declares, and she grabs her drink and brings it to her lips. I watch her take a sip before she puts it back down. “You have nothing to make up for. So if that is what you’re here for, you can check it off your list and be on your way.” She looks around. “But know that I will not entertain this conversation anywhere that isn’t private.” She tilts her head to the side and smiles at me so fake it hurts my chest. “Now, you want to talk about what we’ve been doing in the past eight months and pretend we are long-lost friends, then let’s do that. But…” She crosses her arms in front of her again, the smile never leaving her face. “I’m not going down memory lane with you.” I can see her eyes have darkened, so I know it still bothers her, which should make me happy. But the fact I hurt her, and it still bothers her, even if she hates me, makes my stomach tight, and I feel like someone kicked me in the balls, and they traveled up to my throat.
“Noted,” I reply softly, nodding at her. The fact that she isn’t going to cause a scene shouldn’t be a surprise to me. She’s too mature for that. Even after everything that happened between us, no one ever knew. There was no tabloid story. There was no chatter with other people. There was not one person who came up to me and was like “Hey, I heard you fucked over Gabriella.”