Nope.
That was Todd, the ice-blue eyed devil himself in a two-thousand-dollar suit.
With his smarmy smile, his dashing good looks and his psychopathic charm.
Was Scott falling for it?
He tossed his head back and laughed.
Shit. Not only was he falling for Todd’s charm, he was eating it up out of the man’s palm.
More ice dripped down her spine until she was once again frozen in place. Unable to move. So now all she could do was stare. Watch in horror as the two men, one she hated more than anything in the world, and one she could easily see herself one day loving, laughed and chatted, drank beer and ate pretzels like they were old college buddies.
Todd’s eyes flashed up from his drink and swung in her direction. His steely gaze narrowed as if he recognized her or at the very least saw something behind her. But just as quick, his focus shifted back to Scott, who said something that made Todd laugh.
The wind was warm, but she nonetheless shivered where she stood, pulling her fitted black blazer tighter across her front.
She needed to get out of there. No way was she going into that bar now. No way was she going to run the risk of letting Todd see her, let alone realize that she was with Scott.
That had disaster written all over it.
With a still-heaving chest, foggy brain and trembling hands, she whipped her body back out of view and stood behind the column, her back once again up against the concrete.
Doubts crashed through her like the biggest of waves in a Pacific winter storm. White caps, squalls and all. She was drowning in doubt, in fear and confusion. Struggling to get her bearings and figure out which way was up. Her brain was hazy. She was losing oxygen. She couldn’t see the surface.
Her fingers were glacier-cold as she fumbled for her phone from her purse and dialed her sister.
“Todd is in having a drink with Scott,” she blurted out when Celeste’s curious hello came across the line.
“What the hell? Why?”
“I think Todd’s his client. I mean, it makes sense. Fletcher Holdings is huge.”
“Has Todd seen you yet?”
She shook her head. “No. I’m still outside. I can’t go inside. I can’t let him see me. I … I’m not even sure I can face Scott right now. I know he probably has no idea who Todd is to me, but knowing that the two of them have been so chummy for the last couple of hours makes me want to vomit.”
“Understandable. The man is scum.” Celeste brought her voice down to barely a whisper, which meant she was within earshot of small, nosy, curious ears.
“I’m going to call another cab and just come home.”
“But what about the book signing?”
Allison DeWitt be damned. First date with Scott be damned. She was not mentally equipped to deal with any of this right now. She hadn’t seen Todd in months, and things were finally getting better. She was sleeping better. She had cut her therapy sessions down from once a week to once a month. Her kids were sleeping in their own beds—most of the time. They were all settling in. Life was good.
But this—seeing him with Scott, she could already feel the setbacks happening.
“Come home,” Celeste said sternly over the phone, interrupting Eva’s thoughts. “I can practically hear you spiraling out of control over the phone. Get your ass home. Text Scott once you’re in the cab. If he’s a decent guy, he’ll understand. Then maybe one day you can tell him the whole ugly story of terrible Todd.”
Yeah, right.
“Get out of there,” Celeste said. “If Todd leaves and catches you standing out there … ”
Shit. Right. That would not be good. The narcissist would probably think she was stalking him and interested in getting back together, while the only way she wanted Todd Fletcher was a minimum of five hundred feet away, though if she had her way, six feet under would do too.
With a final glance through the window, the phone and her sister still glued to her ear, she tucked her purse under her arm and headed down the sidewalk. Away from Prime Sports Bar and Grill, away from Todd, and regrettably away from Scott.
She only hoped that this wasn’t her walking away from Scott forever.
He seemed like the kind of guy who was worth waiting for. Hopefully he would wait for her too.
10
A flurry of red out of the corner of Scott’s eye drew his attention away from the narcissistic douche-canoe in front of him. God, how much longer was he going to have to laugh at this man’s crude jokes?
Relishing anything that could distract his attention away from the pretentious fucker with the sparkly Rolex, he glanced out the window only to see a black coat and long, streaming red hair disappear down the sidewalk and out of view.
He hadn’t known her long, but he’d watched her walk enough to know Eva’s walk, even from the back. That was her.
But why was she leaving?
Where was she going?
His watch—which was not a sparkly-ass Rolex—said she should have been there by now. They would only have time to grab maybe one drink before they needed to head to the book signing. And even though he loved Prime and his buddy Mason, who was currently tending bar, this was not the place for an intimate and romantic first date.
Damn it, he needed to ditch Todd—and fast. But the fucker would not shut up about himself or his success or how much he hated his ex-wife. Yeah, that had been a fun topic to get on—not. Scott made the mistake of mentioning his ex-wife in passing, and that Freddie was with her for the week, and apparently that was the only opening Todd needed to launch into a full-on ex-hating diatribe.
The man was convincing though. By the end of it, Scott wasn’t a fan of the woman either. If she was half as terrible as Todd made her out to be, Scott hoped the woman got a hardcore reality check soon and did the right thing by her kids by seeking professional help.
Those poor kids.
A drunk mother who was also addicted to pills and had a penchant for stealing—jeez. And here he thought he’d had it rough with Katrin and her lack of consideration.
So as much as Todd appeared to be one of the world’s biggest tools, at least his sons had him in their lives. A successful, healthy, stable parental figure.
He let out a slow breath.
At least Katrin wasn’t an alcoholic, pill-popping kleptomaniac.
Silver lining.
Todd finished his drink and exhaled, his eyes wandering over to the backside of the waitress who was currently bent slightly over a table to wipe it. “I’m going to hit the men’s room, then head out.”
Scott nodded then caught Mason’s eye, nodding again. “I’ll grab the bill.”
And send Eva a text message to see where the heck she went.
“Thanks, man,” Todd said, his eyes now lasered in on the waitress. The way he scanned her body as she stood up made Scott uncomfortable, but the waitress—who was most likely no older than twenty-five, if that—seemed to squirm beneath his gaze as well.
“Hazel!” Mason’s voice bellowed across the bar, which caused the waitress to snap to attention. “Need you over here.” Relief crossed the young woman’s face as she hightailed it across the busy bar toward the safe haven of her big, tattooed boss and the four-foot-wide solid wood bar that would now be between her and Todd.