The Love Sucks Club(17)
“I had a dream about you last night,” she whispers.
Most women would find this a turn-on. Instead, I’m filled with trepidation. “And?”
“You were standing on a cliff, looking down. I was behind you. I kept trying to call your name, but I couldn’t open my mouth. When I finally got my mouth open, you were stepping off the cliff. I raced toward you, but the harder I ran, the further away the cliff got. You fell in slow motion.”
I’m silent, letting her words absorb.
She pokes me in the ribs. “You’re not planning on jumping off any cliffs, are you?” She tries to sound as if she is joking, but I can just discern the concern under the humor. Olivia obviously missed it, because she laughs.
“If you are planning on jumping off a cliff, take Sam with you.”
“God, you’re hilarious, Olivia,” Sam grimaces.
“I don’t think that’s an appropriate topic for joking around, considering the circumstances,” Susannah says, pointedly.
“It’s fine.” I wave my hand, dismissing the whole conversation.
“Sorry, Dana...” Sam starts.
“Sam is so insensitive,” Olivia sniffs.
“Wouldn’t it be nice if we all had a lovely time for once instead of always bickering?” Susannah is losing patience with Olivia and Sam.
“Actually, we do have a lovely time,” Sam replies. “Dana and I are quite adept at lovely times. In fact, we’re thinking of starting a business. Lovely Times “R” Us.” she lifts her fingers to put imaginary quotes around the “r.”
Esmé laughs. “I’d hire you, Sam.”
If I’m not interested in this woman, why am I irritated that she’s flirting with Sam? Susannah kicks me under the table. “Voldemort,” she says without moving her lips.
Sam is facing the door, so she looks up. “Sure enough,” she mutters. “Voldemort and Mandy, along with a few other drunk freaks.”
“Great.” I’m tempted to turn around, but I don’t want to give she-who-shall-not-be-named the satisfaction of knowing I turned to look at her. “What’s she doing?”
“Looking over here,” Susannah says.
Esmé puts her hand on my arm. “Are you all right?”
“Fine,” I grin. “I’m just fine.”
Sam shakes her head. “In a second, Dana should say something and we’ll all laugh.”
She looks up at Voldemort and gives me the slightest nod. Turning to look over my shoulder, I make eye contact with my ex across the restaurant and turn back to my friends. I mouth something and the entire table erupts with laughter. It lasts for a few minutes, culminating with Sam picking up a napkin and pretending to wipe away a tear.
“And you say I’m dramatic,” Olivia scoffs.
“That was just adding visual interest,” Sam replies.
We all laugh again. Esmé squeezes my arm again so I put my arm around her. I’m well aware that I’m doing it to make sure my ex knows that I have a pretty woman with me, but it also feels good to touch her.
“Do you want to leave?” Sam asks me.
“I’m ready.” I’m suddenly tired. Having my arm around Esmé suddenly feels uncomfortable. We look into each other’s eyes and I feel that she’s looking into my mind and seeing all of my hidden skeletons. Needing a break from touching her, I casually remove my arm from her shoulders and stand up. Susannah stands up, too.
“Esmé needs a ride home,” she says. “She shouldn’t be walking home after dark.”
Sam pulls her keys out of her pocket. “No problem. I can drop you off after I take Dana up the hill.”
“Good,” Esmé says. “I want to see where she lives anyway.”
Doubting that my opinion matters, I interject anyway.“I don’t suppose I have a say in this.”
“None,” Sam and Esmé say at the same time.
Bracing myself for the inevitable run-in with Voldemort, I set my face in what I hope is a look of complete nonchalance. The five of us walk toward the door. When we reach my ex, she smiles at me and reaches out her hand.
“Hey, Dana,” she says, smiling. “How are you doing?”
“Fine, thank you for asking.”
“Did you get my letter?”
“Yep. Just wondering how you got it in my house.”
She smiled. “I stopped up there looking for you. Since you weren’t there, I just went in and set it on the counter.”
Making a note to start locking my doors, I nod. “Well, you aren’t invited to just stop at my house.”
“Come on, Dana,” she says, laughing. “I lived there for five years. I think I can still stop over when I want.”