She sat alone at a tall table at the outdoor pub by the stage. A plate of French fries sat untouched in front of her. She was staring at the glass she held which must have once been a frozen drink but now appeared to be a mixture of icy slush and dark rum.
An unfamiliar sensation of concern settled in his gut.
“Something wrong with the fries? Do I have to speak to the chefs?”
She blinked up at him in confusion, holding her hand to her forehead to block the sun in her eyes. “Reid.” She gave him a smile that didn’t seem quite genuine enough to reach her eyes.
“Were the fries not done to your liking?”
She looked down at her plate in surprise, as if she’d forgotten it was there. Maybe she had. She’d certainly been deep in thought when he’d approached her.
“I guess I wasn’t all that hungry.”
“May I?” he gestured to the other empty stool at her high top table.
“By all means.”
She began to speak as soon as he sat down. “I know I still owe you an answer.”
It surprised him that her failure to respond to his proposal was the furthest thing from his mind at the moment. His first concern was why she appeared so, well, sad.
“This is going to sound like the worst kind of pickup line, but...” he hesitated. Maybe probing would be overstepping his bounds.
“Yes?”
“It really is such a shame to look so down on such a beautiful day in paradise.”
She let out a small laugh. “You’re right. That does sound like a bad pickup line. And here I thought you would have a better game. Given your reputation as such a player and all.”
He laughed in return, ducked his head in mock embarrassment. “I might be out of practice. I’ve been a little busy with this place.”
“Fair enough.”
What little there was of the smile on her face faltered then disappeared completely.
“Is everything all right?” he asked, now downright worried for her.
“Just fine.” He definitely didn’t believe her. Was debating whether to push when she spoke again. “And I’d like to say yes, by the way.”
For the briefest moment, he wasn’t sure what she was referring to. Then understanding dawned. She was agreeing to help him with the marketing ideas.
But right now, all he felt was concern. Celeste looked far from a woman on vacation. Rather, she looked forlorn and melancholy.
Not that it was any of his business.
“Did you hear me?” she asked.
He summoned a pleased grin. “Glad to hear it. You won’t regret this. Let’s shake on it,” he suggested, holding out his hand.
Her hand felt small and dainty in his large palm. He could probably wrap his thumb and forefinger around her tiny wrist. It occurred to him just how vulnerable she looked. Formidable businesswoman or not, Celeste Frajedi had a softness about her that set his protective instincts at high guard status. As backward and downright Neanderthal as that sounded.
He wondered if a man was behind her current state of sadness. That thought had him reeling with an unreasonable degree of anger. She’d been hurt enough romantically for one lifetime.
Celeste had so much going for her. Any man would be a fool to treat her poorly in any way. How shameful that he hadn’t seen that three years ago. Something had blinded him then to Jack’s faults.
He’d been told more than once that he could be loyal to a fault. Next time he and Jack crossed paths, he would have a few words he’d like to share with the other man.
Not that it would be any time soon. The two of them had certainly grown apart since the ill-fated wedding. Reid couldn’t even recall the last time the two of them had spoken to each other live. For all he knew, Celeste and Jack were still in touch. Maybe Jack was the reason for her current state of sorrow. He felt his neck muscles tighten at the thought. After all, the last time he’d witnessed such sorrow on her face, Jack had been the precise cause.
Without thinking, he blurted out the pesky question that had been lurking in his brain. “So, what exactly went down that day?”
Celeste didn’t even pretend to not know what he was referring to.
Her lips tightened into an ironic smile. “You’d like to ask me about my failed wedding. Now of all times.”