Tequila Rose (Tequila Rose 1)

He’s freshly shaven and when he walks up to the counter, leaning against the top of it with his forearms, I catch a whiff of his scent. He smells like sea breeze and old memories.

Oh nooooo. He needs to go right now. It’s hard enough having to face Brody. Having to face Brody in front of Robert? Nope. He needs to go back right through that door he just came from.

“Busy as usual,” he jokes with a grin and then waves at Renee as I force myself to huff a laugh.

“And what brings you to this humble establishment?” I joke back, keeping the smile on my face. It comes naturally, but the turmoil roiling inside of me from head to the bottoms of my tippy-toes begs me to spit out the secret. To cut off whatever it is he has to say and spill my guts and tell him to hightail it out of here. I’ve told him everything all my life. I’ve told Robert things I’ve never even told Renee. Although that truth is the same reversed. Renee knows things no one else does either. The two of them are my rocks and I try to be theirs. It’s as simple as that.

“I was supposed to have a meeting with a guy yesterday. I think you know him?” Robert’s sharp blue eyes are curious as he says the name I dread to hear, “Brody Paine.”

“Uh-huh,” I answer him, pulling away from the counter and returning to the computer. “What about him?” I ask as if it’s casual. As if there isn’t a month’s worth of dirty laundry ready to be dumped out over his head just from the mere mention of that particular name. Brody.

“Are you seeing him?” I don’t expect Robert’s question or for him to be so blunt. Neither does Renee, although she only peers up from her phone and remains silent. This counter is my defense; that phone is hers. But neither will save me from this conflict.

“Seeing him is a phrase for it … I guess.” I swallow the truth down, deep down. My plan of action is simple. Brody is told first. I tell him tonight. Then the world can know and judge.

Right now, as much as I don’t like it, Robert is grouped in with the rest of the world. Even if it does make me sick to my stomach. Lies will do that. They eat you up. At least that’s what my grandmother used to say. She knew what she was talking about.

“Tonight?” Robert asks, leaning forward to get a good look at my outfit. Rose gold heels to match my earrings, and a loose navy blouse tucked into the watercolor floral skirt.

“You guessed it,” I practically answer in a singsong cadence. As if it’s not a big deal. I’ve gone out a few times on a date here and there. It never amounts to anything. It’s a polite answer to nice guys who want to take me out. I’ve never really been interested. My hands are full as it is.

This is different, though, and the tension that lies between Robert and me as he stands there across the desk waiting for me to look back at him is evidence of that.

“How do you know him?” His tone isn’t accusatory, but the comments in my head sure as hell are.

Shrugging, I try to hide my harsh swallow. “I think his friend went to school back in Delaware.”

“That it, Mags?” he asks me and when I look up at him, there’s a hurt and uneasy expression in his eyes, and I start to question if Brody told him something. If Robert knows. I want to be the one to tell him. I can’t let him find out from the rumor mill. But just as the dam breaks inside of me, Renee pipes up.

“Why’s it matter, Rob?” Renee asks. “Were you planning on asking out your old high school flame?”

A very common sigh of frustration leaves me as she chides him. He knows that she knows about our thing. She knows he knows that she knows. And they do this shit all the time pretending like neither of them knows anything about the occasional fling Robert and I have whenever Robert behaves like anything more than an ex and landlord.

Renee’s right, he doesn’t have a right to ask any questions about my dating life when he lets the world believe we’re only friends. Yet I’m choosing to sleep with him, and deep down I know I need to be honest with him if ever I were to … have a romantic relationship that led past dessert. Same goes for him too.

“I’ll let you know if it’s anything more than that,” I answer Robert sincerely before the two of them can butt heads. “For now, it’s just dinner,” I tell him and saying those words brings a pang of heartache I don’t expect. I made a promise earlier to Renee that I’d at least wait until after appetizers to say anything about Bridget. For one, he’d have to stay to pay the bill, right? So he’d be forced to at least process it for a moment. And for two, I’m going to need to eat something in order to sit upright and speak the truth.