disaster.
“Beth!” Cairo squealed as she reached out to grab Beth’s shoulders. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh!” Beth yelped. “Cairo! I…” She looked past Cairo’s head and saw Jamie watching their little reunion. Crap. “I’m meeting with a, um, an accountant. From the accounting seminar. About tax…strategy.”
“Well, come here. I want you to meet Harrison.”
“Who?” Beth asked, dumbfounded by shock.
“Harrison, my boyfriend. He’s a bartender here.”
Oh, Jesus. Why hadn’t she paid closer attention to Cairo’s stories? Harrison was the newer of her two boyfriends, and Beth belatedly remembered that he worked nearby. Unfortunately, she hadn’t registered the useful details. “I can’t, I need to finish this meeting.”
Cairo tugged on her arm. “Come on. It’ll only take a second.”
Beth had to follow her, but she threw a wide-eyed look at Jamie over her shoulder. She held up one finger in the hopes he’d take the message and stay put. Though he frowned, he leaned back in his seat. Thank God.
“That’s him,” Cairo whispered, waving toward a young man at the other side of the room. He was slim and of average height, but that was the only average thing about him. His hair was a close buzz cut, bleached so blond it was nearly white. It offered a stark contrast against his bronze skin and black tattoos. He was pierced and studded in multiple places on his face, and Beth knew for a fact that the ornamentation continued down his body.
He stopped before them with a wide, welcoming smile.
“This is Beth,” Cairo said. “My boss.”
“I’m Harrison. Nice to meet you.” He reached across the bar to shake her hand and slid a wine list toward her with the other. “Let me buy you a drink.”
“Oh. I’d better…” She darted a look toward the booth.
“No, stay!” Cairo said. “It’ll be fun. You said you were almost done with the meeting, right? We never hang out anymore.”
Beth couldn’t believe this was happening. She thought of Jamie waiting in the booth like some clean-cut sex god. She looked at Cairo’s bleach-blond alternative toy with a sense of hopelessness.
“Wait a minute,” Cairo said. “Are you sure you’re only here for a business meeting?”
“What? Of course, it’s just a meeting. Ha! I’ll go finish up and I’ll be right back. You order for me, Harrison.”
She was being ridiculous. She had nothing to be ashamed of. Yes, Jamie looked a lot like an off-duty stockbroker, but Beth didn’t have anything to prove. She should just stand up and take it like a woman.
Still, she’d taken a big step today. Best to put off any more growth until tomorrow. Anything more might break her.
She slid into the booth next to Jamie and grabbed her purse. “I’m really, really sorry, but you have to go,” she said in rush.
“Excuse me?” Jamie asked, still relaxed against the seat back.
“I know it’s awful. Unforgivable really, leaving you like this. After you… But there’s somebody here, and—”
He sat straight up. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
“No! It’s not that, it’s just…”
His confused frown darkened to suspicion. “What?”
“This is hard to explain. And after what we…um… There’s someone here from my shop. One of my employees, and…”
“And?”
“And I have an image to maintain.”
“I’ll sit on the other side of the table. We’ll be perfectly respectable.”
Heat burned in her face. “That’s not what I mean.”
“Beth.” He raised his hands in helpless question. “I’m trying hard to understand, but I’m missing something here.”
She snuck a look around the banquette to be sure Cairo was still at the bar before offering a longer explanation. “Okay, listen. The White Orchid is Annabelle Mendez’s dream. It’s an extension of her. Sophisticated, edgy, daring. Cool and hip and modern. The shop is Annabelle, and I’m committed to maintaining everything she is. Every single person I hire is open-minded and forward-thinking. Invested in women’s sexual freedom. And I am too. It’s just that…”
He leaned forward.
“On occasion, I find myself attracted to a man like you.”
“Like me?” He sounded caught halfway between insult and pride.
“Traditional. Sort of…old-fashioned.”
“Old-fashioned?”
She waved a hand, her mind searching desperately for a better descriptor. “You’ve got a country-club vibe, you know?”
His mouth opened as if he meant to repeat her words again, but then he only shook his head. He looked…traumatized? “I run a brewery,” he rasped.
Beth pressed her hands to her eyes to give herself a chance to gather up the courage she’d sat down with. “I’m sorry.” When she opened her eyes, he looked a little less confused, but maybe she’d only pressed her eyeballs too hard.