Follow Me Darkly (Follow Me #1) - Helen Hardt Page 0,74
sure Addie’s posts help your shop.”
“They do, but she doesn’t do it for me.”
I lift my eyebrows. “Oh?”
“I mean, she does, but not because we’re old friends. She does it to…” She sighs. “She does it to keep me quiet, Skye.”
“Quiet about what?”
“About that summer. I told Tessa she could tell you.”
“She may have mentioned something.”
Betsy spews out the story I already heard from Tessa about the illicit party at the Ames house, Braden’s attendance, and Addie’s obsession with losing her virginity to him.
“Wow,” I say.
“I know.”
“But Braden isn’t the problem,” I say. “Seems like Addie’s the one who pursued him. So why does she say he’s bad news?”
“There’s a lot more to the story,” Betsy says.
“Was it ever in the news?” I ask. “Because I can’t find anything about the two of them that year.”
“No, nothing was in the news.”
“Then what happened?”
Betsy blows her nose into a paper towel. “I’m so sorry. I’ve said all I can.” She runs out.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Now what?
Before I leave the restroom, my phone dings with a text from Braden.
Braden: Where are you?
Me: Esteban’s. Having a drink with Tessa.
Braden: I’m at your place. Why aren’t you here?
Right. His comment on the post said See you tonight. Still, we didn’t make official plans.
So I reply.
Me: Because I’m at Esteban’s having a drink with Tessa.
My heart gallops as the dots jump while he writes. Then—
Braden: Be there in fifteen.
I smile for a few seconds, but then I scramble out of the restroom. If Braden shows up, Betsy will have a meltdown. I return to the table. Tessa is sitting alone.
“Where’s Betsy?”
“Gone. She came back and looked awful, threw some bills down, mumbled a quick apology, and then ran out. What the heck happened in the bathroom?”
I give Tessa the lowdown. “To make matters more complicated, Braden is on his way here.”
“What for?”
“Apparently he wants to see me tonight.”
“I can make myself scarce. I didn’t need this fourth margarita anyway. Good thing I took the T to work today.”
“You can stay.”
“That’s okay.” She stands. “Call me tomorrow.”
“Will do.”
She walks away but then turns and looks back. “By the way, I saw your post. It’s gorgeous!”
I warm. “Thanks. I think.”
“You can do this, Skye. I believe in you.” She winks and leaves the restaurant.
I look over the bill and count up the money Betsy and Tessa both left. I pull out my wallet, and—
“I’ve got it.” Braden sits down and takes the check from me.
“You don’t have to. They left money.”
“I saw Tessa on the way out,” he says. “I told her you’d be returning her money.”
“What about Betsy’s money?”
“Who’s Betsy?”
“Betsy… Huh. I don’t know her last name. Anyway, she owns the Bark Boutique where I got Sasha’s gift basket.”
“You can return her money, too.”
“That’s generous of you, but you don’t have to—”
“I know I don’t have to, Skye. I want to. This is pennies to me.”
I smile. “Okay, then. I’ll let you, because I’m now officially unemployed.”
He shakes his head. “Why am I not surprised?”
“I don’t know. I still have no idea what went on between you and Addison.”
He throws a credit card on top of the bill. “Nice try. Still not going there.”
The server arrives and grabs the bill and credit card. “Can I get you anything, Mr. Black?”
“Yes, a Wild Turkey, one ice cube, and a menu please. Ms. Manning and I will be dining.”
“You want to eat here?” I ask, flabbergasted.
“Why not?”
“It’s not exactly fine dining.”
“So? You seem to forget I come from South Boston. I grew up on beans and stew.”
“Boston baked beans?” I can’t help asking.
“One and the same.”
“No chains like this when I was growing up, but we had some great little mom-and-pop restaurants in the nearby small towns. Not fine dining, but delicious food where everyone knew everyone else. We had this amazing Mexican restaurant run by a couple who’d emigrated twenty years previously. The best Mexican food ever. The stuff here can’t compare.”
“Esteban’s is yuppy Mexican food,” he says. “But it’s still decent.”
“True.”
The server returns with the menus. I glance over mine.
“Eat hearty, Skye,” he says. “You’re going to burn a lot of calories tonight.”
…
As soon as we enter Braden’s penthouse, he attacks me next to the elevator, kissing me hard and deep. I respond immediately, my whole body quaking in anticipation of what’s to come.
Then his phone buzzes, and he breaks the kiss.
“Ignore it,” I whisper.
“I can’t. I’m sorry. I’m expecting an important call.”
“At nine thirty?”
He doesn’t answer, just pulls his phone out. “Black,” he says, walking toward the