Page 81 of The Sacrifice
“I’ll share.”
Once we’re alone, I shake my head. “I tried to call him, but he didn’t answer. And never called back. Have you heard from him?”
“He left a couple of messages, but I haven’t called him back. I didn’t want to seem unsupportive of you.”
“Don’t be like that.” I run my finger along the condensation on the glass. “You’ve been best friends since third grade. You need to be there for him no matter what happens between us. He’d never drop you.”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “He doesn’t have a sister to screw over.”
“We went into this knowing it could blow up. I don’t want to be responsible for the two of you not speaking to each other.”
“Let me be the one to decide that.”
“Fine,” I sigh and scan the crowd. It’s a Wednesday night, so the dance floor isn’t packed. A few couples sway to the music, but most are at the tables or standing around the bar.
The dark-haired bartender with black-framed glasses laughs at something a woman across from him says. She’s perched on a barstool. When she winks at him, he lifts her hand and kisses the back of it. The diamond on her finger shines all the way to our booth.
Why does everyone else have to be in love and happy? Okay. I’m in love, but I’m not happy. That’s it, I’m calling him. Or texting him. Or stopping by. What is appropriate in this situation?
Groveling and begging. Those work better in person. But unannounced? No. That’s not cool. What if he has company? My hand digs into the glass. What if he’s already seeing someone, which is why he didn’t call me back? Gunner and Tony might not know everything he does.
“There’s smoke rolling out of your ears.” He taps his fingertips on the table.
“I’m going to call him again.”
“Good.”
“I’ll call him after we leave.” It feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. We can work this out. It’ll be fine. “Enough about me. How’s high-end real estate going?” The fact my brother brokers million-dollar deals blows my mind. One day he was wearing braces on his teeth, and the next, he was sporting a Rolex.
“It’s good.” He winks. “I sold a fifteen-million-dollar home this afternoon with a 5% commission.”
“That’s amazing.”
The waitress drops off our food, and I devour a loaded potato topped with bacon bits and sour cream. With my mouth still full, I motion for him to eat. “Go ahead.”
“Thank you. I don’t mind if I do.” He snatches a mozzarella stick off the platter as I scarf down a mini taco.
I can’t wait.I grab my phone out of my purse.
Me: We need to talk.
Seconds pass by and…. Nothing. My leg bounces up and down as I nervously hit and remove my heel off the wooden floor. Respond. Say something. Anything. Even if its‘kick rocks’. Okay. Not if it’s kick rocks.
Fuck. He’s taking forever.
What if something is wrong with Hadley?My stomach churns, and the mini taco I drenched in sour cream and salsa feels like lead in my gut.
Me: Can we talk?
Still nothing. Stop. Don’t make a big deal about it. He’s busy. I drop my phone into my purse.
“Nothing?”
“No.” I shake my head. “Let’s talk about something else.”
For several minutes, we eat in silence. The noise of the building mutes to a dull roar. It’s remarkable how your disposition improves when you eat carbs. I almost feel human. I grab a mozzarella stick and dip it into the pizza sauce.
The second the cheese stick is gone, I groan. This was not a good idea. Mixing ranch, salsa, sour cream, and pizza sauce took things a little too far. I lift my drink. “Would you like another….”