Hot Stuff

“Well, I’ll see you Monday. Try to get some sleep, okay?” she finishes before pushing open the back door and stepping outside.

“I will.” I nod and smile, but as the door clicks closed behind her, I sink the weight of my body into the wall at my side and sigh.

I have to find a way to kick this mood. It’s running me ragged, and for almost no damn good reason. Sure, I like Garrett a lot, but my life has been happening for a full thirty-one years without him and can continue to do so now.

Determined, I shove away from the wall with one foot and head back down the hallway to my office. I’m going to get my stuff, go home and shower, and then go out to eat for a nice, enjoyable dinner at one of my favorite restaurants in San Diego.

And I’m going to do it all on my own…because Lauren Carroll doesn’t need a man.

Showered, hair dried, and makeup applied, I step into the dim lighting of Wu-Tang Clam, a delightfully playful restaurant dedicated to reinventing the traditional ways we expect food to be prepared. They’re most well-known, as you might guess, for their Chinese breaded clam strips, but I have to say, my absolute favorite part of their menu is the sesame calamari.

When I was still living in New York, this restaurant was the one place I made sure to stop by whenever I was in town visiting my family.

The hostess eyes my dress and heels as I step up to the podium and grins. “Meeting someone?” she asks expectantly.

“No,” I oppose cheekily, pleased with my renewed ability to be a badass, single, content woman. “Just a table for one, please.”

She nods, pulling her lips into her mouth to keep herself from audibly acknowledging her surprise. I smile.

Yeah, it feels good to be back. Slipping inside the confident skin I’m used to like a hand into an old, worn-out glove.

Happily, I bounce along behind the young, bob-sporting girl and smile at patrons as I pass them by. Frankly, I’m smug in my self-assurance, and that’s probably why, at right around the time we’re arriving at my table, it bites me in the ass.

“Lauren?” I hear from just over my left shoulder. I close my eyes shut tightly because the voice sounds eerily familiar, and I can just sense the dread and doom as it seeps out around me.

The proverbial rug is seconds away from getting pulled right out from under my stupid confidence’s feet. I can feel it.

“Yes?” I answer, turning around cautiously.

Jake Brent, Garrett’s friend and possibly the second-hottest man alive—right behind Garrett, of course—smirks so hard, it infuses a mischievous light all the way into his eyes.

He’s with someone, another guy, but for the sake of my very, very fragile shame, I put my focus on Jake and keep it there.

“Jake. Hi.” I close my eyes briefly, take a deep breath, and try again. This time, making an effort to form full sentences like a big girl. “I mean, hi, Jake. It’s nice to see you. How have you been?”

He chuckles a little, glancing to the man I’m trying desperately to ignore and then back to me. “I’m good. This is Matt, one of my supervisors for my construction company. Matt, this is Garrett’s girlfriend, Lauren.”

I nod like this isn’t all news to me. Like this isn’t the first I’m hearing about Jake’s career or the fact that I’m apparently now Garrett’s girlfriend, hell, anything. I mean, I just went on my first date with Garrett last weekend, and yet somehow, it feels like we’ve power-walked into the gooey center of a full-fledged relationship.

To be honest, right now, with the panic I’m feeling radiating out from my entire spine, I’m not even sure I have ears anymore.

Has Garrett been talking to Jake since he left? Is that why he thinks I’m his girlfriend?

Jake must read something on my face because it softens almost infinitesimally. “I haven’t heard from him yet either. How are you holding up?”

“I’m…doing good. Everything is fine.” But, like, how do you know that I’m Garrett’s girlfriend before I know I’m Garrett’s girlfriend? And, you know, have you, maybe heard from him? Is he okay?

Jake reads my face for a beat, and whatever he finds makes him wince. “Yeah, I had a feeling. Do you have the police scanner app on your phone?”

My eyebrows pull together. I don’t even know what that is.

Jake laughs, obviously picking up what I’m putting down without verbal confirmation.

“Here.” He holds out a hand. “Give me your phone, and I’ll download it for you. The news does a terrible job of updating with any real information when it comes to these fires. I listen to this every once in a while, and it gives me a good idea of how and where he is.”