Storm Warning - By Kadi Dillon Page 0,45
magazine and slapped it on the table in front of Tory. “You seen this?”
“No.” Tory unwrapped it and Adam directed her to the page he was referring too.
She could only gape at the picture of herself and Gabe dancing in the nightclub where they had first met. A smaller picture was clipped in the corner of Gabe and another woman sitting close together in a lavish restaurant booth. Several headlines screamed. ‘NOTORIOUS GABE WILLS AND STORM CHASER TORY FAIRCHILD AN ITEM’—‘GABE MOVES ON, TORY HEARTBROKEN.’
“Who the hell leaked this?” she wanted to know.
“Read it and take a guess.”
Tory read the story, not at all accurate about her and Gabe Will’s love affair gone bad and ground her teeth together when she read an interview with Vance Johnson.
“What a bastard,” Tory flicked the periodical away.
“I wanted to make sure you knew so we could deal with it.”
“As if being arrested for assault wasn’t enough for him. I’ll call Vance later and deal with it,” Tory swore. She hadn’t spoken with him either, but that would be a pure pleasure now.
“How do you feel about all this?” Adam gestured to the magazine.
Tory thought for a moment. She had felt a surge of betrayal, anger, and maybe even jealousy when she saw the picture of Gabe and another woman together. Didn’t take him long, she thought furiously.
“It’s basically true, anyway.” She stood up abruptly. “My break’s over. Call you tonight?”
“Yeah, call me tonight.” Adam hugged her before scooping up the article and leaving.
Tory re-tired her apron and brewed a fresh pot of coffee before making her table rounds. She refilled coffee cups, dumped out ash trays, and cleaned all her tables. By two in the afternoon—with one hour still to go—her feet were aching and her temper was sizzling.
She stopped in front of the window and stared out at the empty lot across the street. She couldn’t get the article off her mind. She didn’t care about the publicity. People had their opinions whether she worried about them or not. But what Vance had said, she reflected, was true and hurtful. Tory can’t keep a relationship for anything. It’s just not in her. I wonder, Vance had been quoted, what makes a person so unlovable?
Was she unlovable? she wondered. And what had made her that way?
“Lady, are you gonna refill my coffee or sit there and stare out the window?” a gruff voice came from behind her.
Tory turned around slowly and raised a dark brow at the customer.
“Would you like a refill?” she asked civilly.
“I thought I made that obvious.” He scooted his cup closer to the edge of the table. Tory took her time filling it, then drew out her pad.
“Are you ready to order?”
“Eggs and hash browns.”
“How would you like your eggs?”
“Cooked.”
Tory bit back her sigh and eyed the customer with obvious disdain. “Scrambled?”
“As long as they’re cooked all the way.” He handed her the menu and gave her a mocking smile. “You can handle that can’t you, sweetheart?”
Oh no, Tory thought, snatching the menu, he didn’t.
Pressure began to accumulate in her chest. What was she doing here? She couldn’t stand this job. She hated being spoken to as if she was lower than dirt. She’d felt that way when the love of her life had casually tossed her aside. She felt that way every time she scooped up a couple dollars from the tables she waited day after day. Enough, she thought, was enough.
She tossed her apron on the counter and picked up two eggs from the counter. Seeing red, she stalked out to the lobby and to the table the asshole occupied.
“Raw,” she said.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re getting your eggs raw.” She cracked one over the table, pulled the shells apart and let the yoke drip right into his lap.
“What the hell!”
She did the same with the other egg and slapped the shells on the table. “Enjoy your breakfast.” With that, she turned and marched out the front door.
Gabe slowed his jeep down in front of the big white house in Ada. He’d driven a long way for this, he thought, scanning the trees and fields. His heart took several hard knocks in his chest.
He’d missed her so much, he could scarcely think of anything else. He’d spent the first week after leaving beside the phone, waiting like a lovesick fool for her call. It never came, much to his frustration. He’d called her cell phone, but it’d been disconnected. He assumed she’d had it changed to ward off some of