Page 31 of Yours, Always
“I have a history with Chuck. I have apresentwith Chuck.”
“Your present with Chuck is stale and you know it. You’ve only been together a year and you go bowling for your date? Really?”
“There is nothing wrong with bowling.”
“There’severythingwrong with bowling. That’s one step away from Bar Bingo Saturday’s.”
“I like bingo,” Prudence groused under her breath, then groaned. “Listen to me! I like bowling and bingo. How well would that go over in L.A.? ‘Hey, Wyatt Reed, would you like to go bowling with us? Bingo on Saturday? You’d be delighted? Of course you would!’”
“You’re thinking about moving to L.A. with Greyson?” Annabelle raised her eyebrows. “That’s a big step.”
“There are no steps. No steps are being taken. My feet are firmly in place.”
“This is the way I see it.” Annabelle held up one hand and started counting with her fingers. “One, you and Greyson have been moving toward this moment since college. Two, you’ve built a solid friendship that I think can withstand a lot. Three, he’s going to be here through the Fall Festival, but he won’t stay here in Amber Falls forever. Four, which means you have some time to see where this goes. And five, if it’s not quite what you thought, you’ll have some time apart.” She nodded, clearly pleased with her logic.
“I’m glad you have this all figured out!” Prudence exclaimed.
“Thank you, I try,” Annabelle said, semi-sarcastically. “By the way, you never told me how Greyson’s reacting to all of this? Is he taking the fact that he had a hot make-out session with his lifelong best friend as badly as you are?”
“Worse,” Prudence mumbled, closing her eyes briefly. “He doesn’t even remember.”
Annabelle’s fork clattered to her plate, and she blinked her eyes rapidly. “What?”
“You know. Concussion. Brain injury. He doesn’t remember the speech, or the kiss or the cuddling.”
“Wow, you should’ve led with that.”
“Sorry.” Prudence reacted angrily. “I have a lot on my mind. By the way, how is your love life going, if I may ask?” She threw back at Annabelle, most uncharacteristically.
“That’s not fair, Pru. I think you know that.” Thunderclouds appeared over Annabelle’s head and the temperature in the room rose at least ten degrees. “I’ve had enough on my plate with the issues at the newspaper over the last year, trying to keep things afloat, and now I have to deal with that bastard Sebastian Locke on a daily basis.”
Prudence reached out and grabbed Annabelle’s hand, squeezing. “Oh, Annabelle, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
Annabelle squeezed back, sighing. “I know, Pru.” She let go suddenly, shooting to her feet. “Oh shit! What time is it?” She looked at her watch. “I said I’d be back already with coffee that his lordship humbly requested I pick up before our big meeting with the Locke Publishing Board of Directors that starts in ten minutes. Like I’m his secretary or something.” She downed the rest of her wine. “I gotta go!”
Prudence stood as well. “I’ll pay the bill, then get the coffee and bring it to the Bee. At least you won’t be late to the meeting. I’ll sneak it in, he won’t even know I’m there. What do you want?”
“The usual for me. Some sort of soy, non-fat concoction for the duke. I’ll text it to you in a minute.” Annabelle hugged Prudence before walking to the door. “I owe you.”
Prudence sat after Annabelle had left and reached for her wallet. Jason came back over to the table carrying the bill and she held out cash. “Jason,” she said gravely, “I have included a large tip under the stipulation that younevertalk about what you overheard at this table today.” She pulled back the money as he reached for it. “Are we understood?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He reached out and took the money. “I sincerely hope you come again,” he said as he turned to walk away, with a wink and a smile. “Repeatedly.”
Still feeling the pink on her cheeks, she pushed out of the diner and stepped quickly across the street to Books and Beans. Prudence smiled as she walked to the counter, seeing Devlin hard at work. “Hi, Dev.”
“Hey, Prudence,” Devlin responded, turning around, her bohemian skirt swirling. “What can I get for you?”
Prudence’s phone buzzed with a message from Annabelle.Perfect timing.
The count would like a blond, soy, pumpkin spice, no whip, no cinnamon, extra hot latte. Go figure he’s into blondes!
Prudence laughed and read the order back to Devlin. “A black house blend for Annabelle and I’ll have a vanilla latte, please.”
“Sure thing! That will be fifteen-twenty-six.”
Prudence handed her a twenty. “No change.”
“Hey, thanks, I appreciate it.”