Inhaling deeply, she crossed her arms and shook her head, silently taking in the powwow still happening in front of her eyes.
“Ladies, I’m sorry, but if you aren’t going to buy anything, I need to go back to my office. I have a meeting with one of my suppliers.”
The fact that her meeting wasn’t for another two hours was something Quinn and her ilk didn’t need to know—so long as the excuse got them out of her restaurant.
Fitzgerald raised her chin, the high flare of her nostrils giving Lena a haughty expression. “I should’ve known this little place wouldn’t be able to accommodate me. Besides, your food at the last gathering was cold, limp, and oversalted. Hardly award-winning. I’m starting to think that maybe you’ve been building your business off the credit cards of bored businessmen who think you look hot in a dress. It’s really the only reason you have for any prior success.”
Quinn paused in her tirade to simper at Lena, her eyes narrowing with an evil glint.
“Of course, that would explain how you got the backing for this pitiful establishment. A string of sugar daddies would account for how you pay the bills.”
Her designer studded cronies laughed on command as Lena tried to gather her decorum around herself like a shield. This bitch has got to be fucking kidding. How dare she come into the restaurant, throw insults, and expect Lena to stand there and take it, as if she were beneath the bitch. She thinks I’m supposed to fawn all over her because of her name. Yeah… no fucking way.
Lena’s anger rose in a wave of heat to her neck and face. “I make my own money, Ms. Fitzgerald, I promise you. Every inch of this place was built because of my hard work, which I’m sure is something you wouldn’t understand. I mean, you’re living off your father’s money like you’re still in high school.”
She paused to let the insult sink into Quinn’s thick skull. “If you need anything else, I ask that you go to another establishment, or give my staff and me more notice before an event. At this time, we can’t help you.”
Without another word, Lena stopped the conversation cold and left, satisfied by Quinn’s shocked gasp. It was about time someone gave the spoiled brat an ego check. She had it coming, and given time, karma always came around. One less problem to worry about—and she handled it herself, which was nice given the myriad of problems she was unable to cope with at the moment. Lena barely kept the smug smile off her face as she helped out the staff with a couple of customers before heading back to her office.
“Tank…”
Lena froze in the hallway. Was that bitch…
“Yes, honey, that would be amazing.”
“Is this for real?” Lena murmured under her breath as she listened in on Quinn’s conversation.
A quick peek into the bistro proved Quinn was huddled by a pastry case, blocking a large half of the line, with her cell phone cradled against her ear. She giggled like a schoolgirl with a crush. A small fire lit in the pit of Lena’s stomach, which slowly turned into nausea as she listened to the rest of the conversation. The way Quinn was talking, it was like she and Tank were together. The idea made Lena want to throw up on the spot as she continued to listen to Quinn’s one-sided, lovey-dovey conversation.
Every second raked down her back like an animal’s sharp claws, making her skin crawl. How could I have been so stupid? So easy-going to think that a man like Tank wouldn’t have a woman in his pocket every which way he went in town. I believed his bullshit of how I was different. What a load of crap! I believed him. I let my guard down. She closed her eyes, sinking back into the wall as Quinn wrapped up her conversation with him. It sounded like they were meeting that night. Probably for dinner at Saltwater. She groaned. What a jerk!
Of course, Lena had never assumed she and Tank were exclusive. They only had one proper date, some major make-out sessions, and incredible sex. But the way he’d looked at her when they were together, and the things he’d said, led her to believe that he wasn’t seeing anyone else seriously. Or, at the very least, if he was seeing someone, that he would’ve had the decency to tell her about it.
“Honest, my ass.” Lena sucked in a breath and tried to get her bearings.
It wasn’t the first time she’d been screwed over by a man, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. But this one cut to the quick with a surprising amount of force.
It was confusing, though, when she had been getting texts from him since the afternoon he’d left her condo. He’d been nothing but sweet, attentive, and always asking after her. There was no indication that he was blowing her off, or that she’d just been an easy piece of ass to him. What man took the time to ask a girl how her day was going and send her funny memes when she was having a busy day at work if they just wanted to fuck and leave?
What had seemed so simple was now being thrown into chaos. She’d be lying if she didn’t resent the one part of her life that seemed to be going well, suddenly crumbling to the ground at her feet. It took a lot of brainpower to reconcile the man who had given her the best orgasm of her life, then cooked breakfast and cleaned her dishes with the man who would pander to a mean-spirited, spoiled little bitch like Quinn Fitzgerald.
None of it made any sense at all.
Lena fumbled for her phone in the pocket of her dress and rolled her eyes when she saw a text had come in from Tank, minutes after getting off the phone with Quinn. A sour taste rose in the back of her throat. She quickly read the sweet text, reminding her to eat, and telling her to have a good day. The jerk also asked her out for dinner the following night. The fact that he was working down the street right now made the text that much more bittersweet. What kind of game are you playing? Dinner? I don’t think so. She shoved the phone in her pocket and stalked back to her office.
Normally, she went out of her way to answer him, so if he had half a brain—something she was doubting at the moment—the fact that she didn’t respond should clue him in that something was up between them.
Which led her to the question of whether Quinn showing up was really a coincidence. There was no way that snob just happened upon her bistro with such a ridiculous demand without any provocation. Lena had a sinking feeling that there were no such coincidences in Quinn’s world, though what that meant for her relationship with Tank left her reeling. For a moment, she let herself dwell on the fact that Tank might have told Quinn about their night together, but hadn’t told Lena a thing about Quinn. That thought brought on a slew of emotions—betrayal, confusion, hurt, and foolishness.
Lena packed away all those thoughts into neat little boxes in the back of her mind to go over tonight, when she was back at home alone, vulnerable, and able to pick over everything to her heart’s content. For now, she had a business to run. The restaurant wasn’t going to close down because she hit a snag in her love life. The only thing that could cause any problems at this point was the lack of profits she was drawing due to the thugs who were hungry for her bottom dollar.
If they ran her out of business, they wouldn’t have any more revenue to steal from her. Yet they didn’t seem too concerned about that problem.
A long sigh slipped through her lips. Turning back to the computer screen, she began to work.
Tank