Easy Melody (Boudreaux 3)

“You got it.”

“He’s hot. You know him?” I ask, watching the hot Joe walk away.

“Just from here,” Kate says with a laugh. “Anyway, loving someone isn’t the wrong thing, Callie.”

“Maybe he wasn’t ready to hear it,” I reply. “I’m confused. He’s always been so tender and affectionate. Loving.” I shake my head and shrug. “I mean, I did say it in the moment, and I was half asleep too, but the more I think about it, the less I regret it. It’s how I feel, Kate.”

“Then it’s definitely not a bad thing that you said it,” she says emphatically and sips her lemon drop.

“Except, since then, he’s barely spoken to me. He walked me to my car Monday night, like always, but he didn’t even touch me. I usually go home with him, but he made sure tsay goodnight and he’d talk to me later.”

“Weird,” Kate says, frowning.

“Very weird. I think I freaked him out.”

“I don’t know.” Kate twirls her cocktail glass, still frowning in thought. “Declan is a sensitive guy. It’s not like him to avoid someone. If anything, he’s too insightful. Even if he didn’t feel the same way, it’s not like him to ignore it.”

“I’m so confused about it all. He’s not the guy I fell in love with, that’s for sure. But maybe this is the real him?”

“No. What you’re describing is not Declan. Trust me, I know him. There has to be something else going on with him.”

“If there is, he’s not talking about it.”

I lift my drink and glance to my right and the world falls out from under me. I can’t hear Kate’s voice. I can’t feel anything except my heart beating erratically in my chest, as I see Declan, sitting across the room with another woman.

His profile is to me, and he’s smiling at her, and to my utter horror, she reaches across the table and… and I stand up. I should go over there, but I just… can’t. I’m so exhausted by all of this, so over the drama of it, I just need out of here.

“I’m sorry, Kate.” I can’t feel my feet as I step away from the table. “Declan’s here with a woman.” Is that my voice? “I can’t do this.”

And without looking back, I escape. I walk as quickly as my heels will allow, out of the restaurant, through the courtyard to the street, and to the bar.

I’m panting, my feet are screaming at me, and I’m just seeing red.

He’s already moved on without even talking to me?

I stomp through my place and behind the bar.

“I thought you were with Kate,” Adam says, his eyes widening when he sees my face. “What happened?”

“I saw Declan with his new girlfriend. Or flavor of the week,” I clarify, pacing behind the bar. I don’t even care that half of the place is empty, and I’m putting on quite a show for the others.

“Wait. What?”

“Yep.” I nod and begin washing dishes, just to do something with my hands. “He was at the restaurant Kate took me to. Didn’t see me, I don’t think.”

“And he was with a woman?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” I snap.

“Hi, Callie.”

I look up. “Fuck you, Keith,” I reply, then just simply laugh. “Oh great, let’s make it a fucking party, full of men who are a royal pain in my ass.”

“I know you said no on the phone earlier,” Keith says, “but it was important to me to see you.”

“Take it in the back, Cal,” Adam says, and I’m just so fucking pissed off.

“Fuck you too, Adam.”

He grips my arm and pulls me to him and whispers in my ear, “I know you’re hurt and you’re pissed, but this is your business. Take that motherfucker in the office and have it out, then get him the hell out of here. I’m here if you need me.”

I pull my arm free and gesture for Keith to follow me, leading him to the office. He shuts the door behind him.

“I want you back, Cal.”

“You can’t have me,” I reply immediately. “And how the fuck dare you come into my place, after all of these months, and just say that?”

“Wow,” he says and shakes his head, as if he doesn’t know what to say. He’s in his usual suit. His blond hair is perfect, his tie straight. He looks exactly the same as he did the last time I saw him. And I realize, for the first time, that I feel… nothing. I never loved him, that’s for damn sure. I felt affection, sure, but now with the months of no contact, there is nothing left.

“Why are you here?”

“I told you, I want you back.”

“In what capacity, exactly?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I want everything we had before,” he replies and shoves his hands in his pockets, standing firm.

“You want me to run your club?”

“Yes,” he says with a nod.

“And you want me in your bed.” It’s not a question.

“I do. I miss you.”

I look at him, impassively, for a long minute, then just shake my head. “Why would I do that?”

“Look, I saw the show on TV—”

“That’s why you’re here,” I interrupt, it all making perfect sense now. “You saw that I made something good here, and you knew you made a mistake letting me go.”

“I’ll give you a raise.”

I cock a brow. “I’m not for sale.”