The Bartender (Modern Love World) Page 5

  Lennon’s mouth drops open, but she says nothing.

  Note the date and time on the calendar, folks. The fact that I’ve left Lennon speechless is worth keeping record of.

  “The bartender I went home with… it was Cole.” Lennon’s still staring at me with wide eyes and not speaking so I continue. “I thought he was the freaking bartender, for Christ’s sakes!”

  She gives her head a shake as if she’s coming out of a trance. “Holy shit, Whit!” Gripping both my shoulders, she gives them a little shake then lets her hands drop. “Hey, that rhymes,” she says as almost an afterthought.

  “I can’t believe I didn’t put two and two together.” I’m now wringing my hands in my lap.

  A small frown forms on her face. “Oh, please. It doesn’t sound like you asked for his last name, how could you know? There’s probably hundreds or even thousands of Coles in the city.”

  “I guess, but…” I let a frustrated growl escape. “Why did it have to be him, of all people? This whole situation is such a mess,” I say and slump back into the chair.

  Lennon breaks out in laughter. “You did a fuck-and-chuck to him. I love it.” She raises her hand as if to give me a high five. “Girl power!”

  I simply stare at her hand as another crushing blow to my fragile ego hits. “I’m a Webber wench! Oh, my God!”

  My friend presses her lips together like she’s trying not to laugh.

  Ever since Tahlia began dating Chase and we heard about some of the antics his older brother would get up to we’d always laughed and joked about the many women he’d bang and call them ‘Webber wenches’. I’d felt only pity for those girls as we’d all laugh at how stupid they were to think they’d be anything special to a man who traded them like baseball cards. If I’m honest, I’d always felt a little superior to that type of girl. And now I’ve joined their ranks.

  Karma really is a fucking bitch.

  “Apparently, there’s low, ten miles of shit, rock bottom, and then sludge below that. I’m swimming in the sludge right now, Lennon.”

  She adjusts herself closer to the end of her chair and leans forward to embrace me. “No, you’re not. You’re just having a rough time, that’s all. It will get better.”

  I let my head rest on her tatted shoulder and pray she’s right. “I hope so.” After a few seconds, I continue. “We can’t let Tahlia know about this.” We pull apart and looked at each other. “I hate keeping secrets from anyone, but this is supposed to be one of the happiest times of her life. This will only stress her out.”

  I see it in Lennon’s eyes, the moment she remembers what he did to me. “He’s the one who…”

  “Exactly. Tahlia will be even more worried about whether I’m okay being around Cole during all her wedding stuff. I don’t want to burden her. Whatever did or did not happen between us won’t happen again, so it’s a moot point. Cole Webber is not the type of man I want in my life or my bed.”

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with you. He’s exactly the type of man I’d want in my bed.”

  I smacked Lennon playfully on the arm. “Would you be serious for a minute?”

  She holds both her hands up in front of her to placate me. “Okay, okay. Seriously, though, I agree with you. Tahl is better off not knowing. Her mother is going to drive her batshit crazy during this entire wedding planning process wanting to make sure everything is perfect and up to her standards. She doesn’t need the extra stress.”

  I nod and draw in a big breath. “So, how should I play this with him? What do I say? Do I bring up what happened before?”

  Lennon chews her bottom lip for a second, deep in thought. “Act like it’s no big deal. Explain that you didn’t know who he was, but now that you do you’d appreciate it if he didn’t tell anyone about it because it will make things awkward, and absolutely do not bring up the past. It will only make it worse.”

  I nod with more enthusiasm this time. “Right. I can do that.”

  “And then you have to not be awkward.”

  My shoulders slump. “That’s going to be a lot harder.”

  She raises herself from the seat and adjusts her tight, bright blue dress. “Come on. You can do this.”

  I sure as hell hope she’s right. I stand from the chair, straighten my shoulders, lift my chin and mentally prepare myself to go out there and have a conversation with Cole fucking Webber as if his presence here doesn’t faze me one bit.

  My heels click on the hard floor as Lennon follows me down the hall.

  “Just keep reminding yourself you can’t sleep with him again while you’re talking to him. The guy is like the opposite of Medusa. Instead of turning to stone you turn to mush.”

  “I only make my mistakes once.” I turn to face her as I use my ass to push open the bathroom door behind me. “It will be a cold day in hell before I’d ever let a guy like Cole Webber get in my pants again. Obviously, it wasn’t earth-shattering enough the first time around if I can’t even remember it.”

  Now, had I known Cole was standing there waiting for me to leave the ladies’ room, overhearing every word I said, I probably would have phrased it a little differently.

  7

  I take a step into the hallway as heat races up into my neck and face. I must be the color of an overripe tomato right now.

  Cole’s jaw is clenched and his forehead is creased. I’m able to really look at him now. He’s clean-shaven this time around and dressed in an expensive-looking charcoal suit with an azure silk tie. He sure as hell cleans up well. In no way does he remind me of the laid-back, working man I met in the bar. Tonight, he oozes sophistication and fits right in with the rest of the country-clubbers circulating the room outside this hallway comparing their bank accounts.

  He pushes off the wall he was leaning against and takes a couple of steps toward me, his body rigid and tense.

  Lennon, that bitch, doesn’t even stick around to be my wingwoman. Instead she slinks off down the hall back to the party.

  “My apologies if the other night wasn’t memorable for you. It makes things difficult when you’re working with a lush.”

  So, this is how we’re going to play this? Sure thing. I’ve got years of pent-up anger and resentment toward this man and he doesn’t even know it.

  Let’s do this.

  “Maybe I felt the need to be intoxicated in order to get through it.”

  He gives me such a condescending laugh that I now know beyond all doubt that I must have been very handsy that night. Damn whiskey. “Nice try, sweetheart.” He leans in a little closer to me and I can smell his expensive cologne. “You were begging me for it.”

  I let my hands drop and clench them at my sides. “You lied.”

  His eyebrows arch up. “Excuse me?”

  “You lied.”

  The crease in his forehead deepens. “How did I lie?”

  “You let me believe that you were just a bartender.”

  “Who’s to say I’m not just a bartender?” He clenches that stupid strong jaw of his.

  “You’re Cole fucking Webber.”

  He closes the few inches between us and the smell of his cologne hits me and I fight not to let my eyes flutter closed. He’s so close that I have to crank my neck back to look at him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “Oh, please. Is this the part where you play the poor, misunderstood rich boy? I’m not buying it.”

  “You don’t know shit about me,” he practically growls.

  “I know you have zero regard for anyone else’s feelings. You’re used to taking what you want when you want it. You toss people aside when you feel like it and to hell with them.”

  He squeezes his eyes shut for a second and uses his thumb and finger to rub the bridge of his nose. “Are you on some kind of medication or something? Because you’re making zero fucking sense.”

  Of course, I’m not making any sense. He wouldn’t remember me, but how could I forget him?

  “Had I known who you really
were I wouldn’t have let you get within ten feet of me.”

  A small smirk plays at the corner of his mouth before he leans down and says right into my ear, “Now, now, Whit.” He pronounces the ’t’ at the end of my name extra hard to exaggerate the fact that he’s using my nickname. “We both know it wouldn’t have mattered who I was that night. You were looking for some cock. I was happy to give it to you and you were more than happy to receive it.”

  I suck in a startled gasp. “You’re exaggerating,” I say in a breathy voice that does nothing to back up my argument.

  He chuckles, the sensation of his breath on my neck and ear causing shivers to race down my arm. Thankfully, he moves back and gives me some room. Unthankfully, his hazel eyes bore into me like lasers and I’m unable to look away. “Not exaggerating, no.” He shakes his head. “What was it you called mine when you grabbed it? Oh, yeah. Unicorn cock. I still don’t understand the reference, but I do know it must mean I have one magical cock.”

  I’m going to go ahead and blame Lennon here for even putting unicorns in my head with that stupid van of hers. And Jesus, would he stop saying ‘cock’ already? It’s an aphrodisiac when it comes from his mouth and I’m doing my best to remember that I am no longer allowed to be attracted to this man.

  I clench my teeth for a full minute and just stare at him and the shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

  Before I can think of a scathing response Chase comes sauntering down the hallway toward the restrooms. “You guys look like you’re in the middle of an intense conversation,” he says.

  I turn my gaze away from Cole and look to Chase and smile.

  “Whitney was just telling me how fond she is of unicorns,” Cole says with a straight face.

  My cheeks burn, but I don’t take the bait.

  “Have you seen Lennon’s van lately?” Chase asks me. “You should take a ride in that thing if you’re a fan of unicorns.” He laughs.

  “Have you ridden a unicorn before, Whit?” Cole asks. If I weren’t so irritated with the man right now I’d almost call his smile playful, but since I am irritated I’m going to go ahead and describe it as provoking.

  With a saccharine smile, I respond. “I think I have. Hard to say really. It must not have been as memorable as you’d expect.”

  And with that comment I head off down the hall with an exaggerated sway to my hips, because if I still want Cole Webber after everything he did to me all those years ago, and everything I know about him, I’m going to make doubly sure he feels the same.

  Misery does love company, after all.

  8

  I didn’t spend any more time talking to Cole at the engagement party, though I felt his gaze on me more than once. I did, however, spend a lot of time thinking about Cole after the party. Which is really frustrating since all I wanted to do was to get him out of my mind.

  It’s probably just because he’s so damn infuriating.

  You know how sometimes all your best comebacks come to you after you’ve had a fight with someone? I couldn’t stop thinking of what I should have said and one-line zingers that would have really pissed him off.

  Mature, I know.

  Tahlia called earlier and invited me to dinner with her and Chase tonight. All day I’ve been worried that they caught wind of something between Cole and me. I’m not sure what to say if they confront me about it. Somehow, “Yes, we might have slept together, I’m not really sure, but I still want his body, I just hate the person he is” doesn’t seem to cut it.

  The moment of truth is upon me as I park my grandma’s car (since she let me borrow it) and walk into the restaurant.

  Of course, we’re at one of the Webber-owned restaurants. After making a fortune in land deals around the city on the backs of the less fortunate, they’ve expanded their holdings to include several restaurants in the Bay area.

  Sapphron has an easy, relaxed feel to it with tone-on-tone cream and beige decor, a wide-open main room that looks into the kitchen, and large comfortable-looking chairs at the tables. The sign outside says their specialty is California cuisine, as fitting as it is unoriginal.

  My tummy is in knots as I try to come up with all the reasons I might have been summoned here tonight. Tahl wouldn’t give me any info on the phone so I’m going in blind. She seemed a little cagey when I asked what was up, but she just said we’d discuss it at dinner.

  “Can I help you, miss?” the maître d’ asks.

  “Yes, I’m meeting Chase Webber and his fiancée.”

  He nods. “Very well. The happy couple are already seated. Follow me, please.”

  I follow as he leads the way through the tables of happy diners and smile when Tahlia waves to me from a table near the back of the room. It’s overlooking the city and you can see the lights from the Golden Gate Bridge in the distance, a view that never fails to take my breath away.

  I’m not quite sure what happens next. One minute I’m glancing at the view outside and the next I’m sailing through the air and the floor is rapidly approaching my face. In an attempt to save myself from a broken nose I reach for the first thing I see, which happens to be the table next to me. Instead of grabbing onto a solid surface though, I clutch a thin piece of material and it follows me down to the ground.

  Somehow, I manage to get my hands out in front of me to brace myself and I land with a thud on the ground, followed by what feels like every dish that was on the table landing on my back, covering me with what I can only guess is someone’s dinner and drinks.

  The room lets out a collective gasp at my misfortune.

  “Whit!” Tahlia shrieks and I hear her push her chair back.

  “Miss, are you okay?” I look up into the horrified eyes of the maître d’, who seems unsure as to whether he should help me out by removing the plates off my back.

  “Oh, my God!” Tahlia stands behind him and looks ready to push past to help when a low voice from behind me has me wanting to sink into the earth below.

  “Jonah, please grab the bus boy to clean up this mess and grab these nice people whatever they were having on the house. I’ll help Miss Knight up.”

  You have got to be kidding me. What is Cole doing here? He’s like a bad fucking zit, always popping up when you least want him to.

  Cole removes the few remaining dishes from my back. “Here,” he says as he helps me to my feet. I can feel some type of warm liquid dripping off the back of my skirt and onto my leg.

  “Jeez, Whit. Are you all right?” Tahlia asks.

  “I’m fine. The only thing hurt is my pride.” I spin to look at Cole for the first time and it’s all I can do to keep my breath in my body.

  He’s wearing a black dress shirt with the top couple of buttons undone. The sleeves are rolled up to reveal his muscled forearms. Dark slacks hug his hips and his hair is a little messy, but somehow manages to look like he meant for it to be that way.

  After clearing my throat, I manage to get out my question. “Is there somewhere I can clean up?”

  “Of course. Follow me.”

  “I can take her,” Tahlia offers.

  Cole shakes his head. “I’ve got it covered. Why don’t you and Chase order us some appetizers?”

  She nods, though a little apprehensively. “Yeah, okay.”

  My gaze flicks back to Chase who’s watching us, but is still seated at the table. Really? He couldn’t even be bothered to get up?

  And wait… I’m just realizing that the way Cole said that made it sound as if he’d be joining us.

  “Follow me.”

  I do as Cole says and make my way through the dining area, careful not to make eye contact with any of the patrons. I don’t need to see them to know that they’re either looking at me with pity or distaste.

  Cole leads me through a swinging door and into a bustling kitchen. I get a few strange looks from the employees, but no one says anything as we make our way down a hall and into a small office.

  “Stay here,” Cole orders and turns and leave
s me there.

  I make a face behind his back after he’s gone. Who is he to boss me around?

  I look around the office and recognize Cole’s scrawl on some of the papers on the corner of the desk. The room isn’t large and it’s overflowing with paper and restaurant supplies. A chair sits behind the desk, but it’s the only one in the small office.

  After a few minutes, he returns with a bowl of water and a white towel, a white dress shirt slung over his shoulder.

  “Take your shirt off,” he says as he sets the bowl down on the desk.

  As much as his command sends a thrill through me, I’m not about to admit it to him. I cock a hip and cross my arms over my chest. “Excuse me?” I tried to use my most offended voice, but I’m afraid it may have come out a little too breathy to pull it off.

  “You heard me. Take it off and I’ll wipe your back down.”

  “You think I’m just going to take off my shirt in front of you?”

  “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, Whit.” He arches a brow and turns to close the office door behind him. It doesn’t escape my notice that he locked it, too.

  Embarrassment turns my face hot. “Whitney. You haven’t earned the privilege of calling me Whit.”

  “Whatever, Whitney.” He exaggerates saying my name. “Let’s go. I want to get this dinner over with. I have things to do after.”

  “I think you mean people, not things,” I grumble as I turn my back to him. Inhaling a deep breath, I reach for my hem and pull the light sweater I’m wearing up over my head. The fabric is still wet and I try my best not to transfer any of whatever it is into my hair. “There.”

  I can’t see it, but I’m sure Cole is rolling his eyes at me behind my back.

  “Is it on my skirt at all?”

  “A little, but I should be able to wipe most of it off. Since it’s black you’ll hardly notice after.”

  I hear the water in the bowl trickle as he wrings out the cloth and without any further warning his hands are on me. Well, the cloth is, but that’s only leaving his hands millimeters from my skin so that’s almost the same thing.