I could possibly do this. Enjoy her. Have some fun. She was not the good girl I had assumed. Emmy Kipling was naughty. Must be that college girl gone wild thing. I was considering it and relaxed a little bit by the time we had joined our fathers.
Emmy suddenly became all business and was charming and intelligent. She knew a lot about the place and made both men laugh as she spoke about shit that was funny. I didn't talk as much, but I engaged to keep my father happy.
Just when I was good with this, and I felt like it was going to be okay. At least, not nearly as bad as I had assumed when Dad said we had to come to this meeting. I began to smile and do a little flirting of my own. I winked at Emmy when our fathers were busy discussing something else and she gave me a smile that promised something later. Something I was getting ready to accept. Then I felt it. Warm heat. Tingles. Lifting my eyes, they locked with the ones I couldn't get out of my head.
Lila Kate stood there with a to go order in her hands. Her eyes were on me. The hurt was obvious and seeing it there sliced through my chest. I was a bastard.
Lila Kate
I DROPPED MY food on the counter of my kitchen and screamed in frustration. I hated him. I hated Cruz Kerrington. I hated him. Jerking open a cabinet, I got out a glass and filled it with ice water. His stupid grin in my head as he winked at Emmeline Kipling. She was what, nineteen? God, he was a pig.
If she let him near her she was stupid. Stupid like me. I groaned at the thought and opened my bag to get out the food that no longer looked appealing. There were other places I could have eaten today. Why did I have to go there? Why did I have to see that?
I sat down on one of the colorful barstools that had just arrived yesterday. This place was so industrial I had added all the color and art I could. I liked the way it was turning out. The stools were painted by an artist in town and each one had a different crazy artistic face painted on the back.
I stared at the crab claws in front of me as I forced one into my mouth. I had to eat. I'd been working downstairs all day and I was still a good month away from opening the place. I took a drink of my water and then looked over at my phone. I hadn't talked to Eli in two weeks. He knew I had bought the place, but I'd been so busy getting moved in I hadn't texted him.
I reached for my phone and decided to change that. We weren't meant to be more than friends but I'd come to enjoy his friendship. We both loved people who didn't love us. He understood.
Moved in. When are you coming to visit? then I pressed send.
Ophelia wasn't moved in yet. Her room was almost completed. She'd gone to LA with Phoenix to visit their grandfather for a week. The place had been quiet. Just me and my dad along with some of his crew who had been working on the room the last few days.
When I'm invited. Was his reply.
I missed him. I missed the trustworthy guy who I could depend on to do what he said he was going to do. He was honest and didn't do things that could hurt others. I wished that Eli had been the one to steal my heart. Seeing Cruz with someone else would be easier if he had.
You're invited. Consider this your official invitation.
///
Texting him eased the ache I felt in my heart and I began to eat my food and enjoy it. If I could go back and not beg Cruz for the impossible that night on Bourbon Street, I would. I'd take it all back. Give up the memories. People that said they wouldn't trade it even though it hurts were crazy. I would give it up in a heartbeat. I didn't want to think about him.
I wanted to forget it all.
Friday night too soon? Eli texted back.
It's perfect, I replied.
That gave me two days to get this place ready. I would make some plans for us and then enjoy myself. I wouldn't think about Cruz. I wouldn't care what or who he was doing. I would live my life.
I'll start packing.
I laughed at that last text and finished eating.
Things were turning out different than I had imagined but they weren't bad. Not at all. I was excited. Soon I'd own a dance studio. I'd get to teach kids. I'd encourage them to find their love of dance the way I had.
I cleaned up my meal and went downstairs to get back to painting the walls. Dad had offered to do it, but I wanted to know I had done something. This was my place. I liked having my hand in getting it ready to move in.
When I walked in the door, Cruz was standing there looking around. His hands were in his jeans pockets, a look I couldn't quite read on his face. I thought about turning around and running back upstairs but I wasn't twelve. I was an adult and this was my studio.
"Can I help you?" I asked.