A Letter to Delilah - Jaxson Kidman Page 0,29

the collar of his button-down shirt stuck out of the expensive sweater he wore.

“I don’t mind helping,” he said. “We made a mess.”

“You were supposed to,” I said. “You’re going to miss your ride.”

“Not me,” he said. “I’ll meet up with them in a few. Lots of stories and memories to go through.”

“That’s not always bad,” I said.

“Here, this is for you,” he said and handed me the small leather folder. “Everything in there is yours. Have a good night.”

Just like that, Ed was gone.

I walked to one of the registers and was met by Carla.

Her bouncy ponytail and bright red lips made her a fan favorite at the restaurant.

“That guy was hot. And he was talking to you.”

“He paid his bill, Carla.”

“He lingered,” she said. “He wanted you to do the same.”

“What?”

“Oh, could you imagine? That kind of guy dragging you into the bathroom. You ripping those fancy and nice clothes of his out of his pants so your hand could get to his-”

“Maybe you should go catch up with him then,” I cut in as I tapped the screen.

“Maybe I will,” she said. “FYI, you have another table that just walked in. Total opposite of the fancy guy.”

“Oh?” I asked.

“This one is filthy looking. But in a really sexy way. I’d ride him until-”

“You're worked up tonight,” I said without looking at her.

I walked away.

I wasn’t in the mood for mindless sex banter with Carla. Sometimes it was fun. Most of the time it was annoying. And all of the time she would go too far. She had a fantasy of picking up married men while their wives were in the bathroom.

I wiped my hands on my black apron and took a deep breath as I walked through the wide-open dining room.

My next table was in the back corner. The place where people sit who didn’t want to be seen. It was never anyone good though.

Until tonight.

When I saw Josh, I froze and gasped.

I thought about smiling.

But then I saw a woman sitting across from him.

Chapter 15

How Many Times?

NOW

(Josh)

She swore it was just business.

That was the hardest part of dealing with Michelle.

She was like me and talking to her about pictures and paintings wasn’t the worst thing in the world. I normally saved those conversations for Azor, but he was usually drunk or trying to pick up a woman.

Michelle was one of the first people to really believe in me and push me. She was there during a few dark times in my life. She understood certain aspects that even Azor couldn’t understand. We knew the moment we kissed it was a bad idea, but we didn’t stop. I didn’t stop. She didn’t hesitate.

The agreement was something like friends with benefits, but it was more or less me getting wasted on my artwork and needing comfort. And in her eyes, she wanted the comfort that crossed the line into something else.

Now I sat across from her at the restaurant Amelia worked at.

The worst part was that it didn’t hit me until I saw Amelia.

My mind hadn’t been completely put together as some new ideas had been swirling around. Those ideas were based on memories that I wanted to leave behind. For good. The only way I could justify it was to drink myself stupid and pass out.

If I attempted to draw. Or paint. Or even take a damn picture… it was words. Words that made up a letter. A letter that revealed the truth of my heart.

And it was gone.

The letter.

Maybe even my heart.

Or so I thought… until I saw Amelia.

She wanted my story.

But I wondered if she knew how much of a role she played in my story.

“I’m going to use the restroom,” Michelle said.

“I’ll be here.”

“You sure about that?”

“What does that mean?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time you left in the middle of a date.”

I quickly reached across the table and took Michelle’s wrist. “Hey. This isn’t a date. We’re not dating.”

“Just fucking.”

“No. I mean… not this week.”

“Not this week?” Michelle asked with a laugh. “You really are an asshole sometimes, Josh.”

“Honestly. I don’t want anyone confused or hurt.”

“I just want to go pee,” she said.

I let her wrist go. “Sorry.”

She slipped out of the booth and disappeared through the restaurant.

I sighed and rubbed my jaw.

I wanted to get out of my flat. To get some air. Get real food. Michelle had called to congratulate me on the success of my event the other night. Everyone loved what I had done. Sasha had been spreading the

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