Lead (Stage Dive 3)

I shuffled forward in my seat, determined to renew my efforts with my date. Who knew, maybe Ben and I would hit it off. For certain, as a couple, we made much more sense.

“You should have thought to get her flowers too,” said Jimmy. “That would have been a good thing to do.”

Ben smacked his forehead. “You’re right. I should have.”

“You shouldn’t have. It’s fine.” I gave Jimmy a warning look. Red lights and sirens, danger ahead.

Of course, he ignored it. “Send some to the house tomorrow.”

“You got it, Jim.” The cell at Ben’s elbow pinged again and he gave it surreptitious look. “Sorry, Lena. I just need to reply to this.”

“Man—” Jimmy reached out again, but I caught his wrist before he could strike.

“That’s fine, Ben,” I said. “Take your time.”

Jimmy narrowed his eyes. “Who is it, Benny?”

“No one.” His finger got busy tapping against the screen.

“And this no one is more important than being polite to Lena, I take it?”

My fingernails dug into the palms of my hands. “Shouldn’t you be heading to David and Ev’s? We don’t want to hold you up.”

“It’s fine. I didn’t give them a time.”

Great. “Jimmy, read between the lines. It’s time for you to go.”

He turned a truly pained look heavenward. “Can’t a man finish his soda? Is that really too much to ask?”

“Yes. Please leave.”

“You don’t have a problem with me being here a bit longer do you, Ben?”

“Not at all, Jim. So … Lena.” Ben finally put down his cell and picked up his beer, giving me an easy smile. “Catch the game last night?”

With a groan, Jimmy rubbed a hand across his face. “She just told you we watched a movie. Plus, she hates sports. You’re boring her, this is a disaster.”

One of the great things about this restaurant was the small tables. I could easily kick Jimmy in the shin, I hardly had to stretch at all.

“What the f**k was that for?” he griped, reaching down to inspect his pants leg. “This is a custom-made suit, Lena. Have a little respect.”

“Oops. Sorry,” I lied with a grimace, thus displaying my brilliant acting abilities. “Did I accidentally catch you with my boot?”

“No! You kicked me on purpose.”

My lips pressed tight together. “Oh, you ass**le. I lied and covered for you the other night at Ev’s.”

With movements sharp and angry, Jimmy snatched up a napkin and carefully brushed off his pants. Threats of revenge shone bright in his nasty, beautiful, beady, little eyes.

Yeah, bring it on, baby.

“Why are you two always kicking each other?” Ben asked, interrupting the heated looks. “Just out of interest?”

Jimmy shrugged. “Everyone has their hobbies, Ben.”

“Right.” Amusement lit his face and fair enough really, this date was a farce. His phone pinged again. “Sorry.”

“Seems you’re pretty busy with whoever keeps messaging you. Maybe we should try this another night, unchaperoned, even.” I gave Ben a sweet smile. The one I gave Jimmy was distinctly less so.

“No, Jim’s right, I’m being rude. I’ll put this away.” He gave the cell one last longing look before placing it screen side down on the table. “Ah … what shall we order?”

With a flourish, he passed me a menu. “Anything catch your fancy?”

Jimmy sipped his Coke in silence. He may or may not have been pouting, I refused to check.

“Mm, everything looks good.” It also looked wildly overpriced. I always went Dutch on dates, but this time, it might very well kill me. Trust Jimmy to pick the most expensive damn place in town. I was tempted to kick him once more, just for fun.

Ben’s cell pinged again and Jimmy reached over, picking it up. His brows rose high as he checked out the screen. “Fucking hell, man. Do you have a death wish?”

“None of your business.” Ben held out his hand.

Jimmy placed the cell back in it. “Right. Good luck with that, I’ll make sure your funeral’s real nice.”

Ben did not reply.

“I might just have an entrée,” I said, interrupting whatever was going on between them. “I’m not all that hungry.”

“What’s wrong? You don’t know what to try?” asked Jimmy, stealing the menu from me. He took his time looking it over. “Why don’t you have the ginger chicken, it’s got a caramelized sauce. You like sweet stuff. And … vermicelli with Asian greens. That’ll be good, I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“I can order for myself, thanks,” I bit out. “I’m just not that hungry.”

“You haven’t eaten since lunch. Course you are.” His face creased up in confusion. “C’mon, the chef here is great or I wouldn’t have chosen the place.”

“Just a soup or something, will do. Can I please have that back, please?”

“No.”

“Jimmy.”

He held the stupid thing out of reach. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Ben said nothing and hid behind his own menu. Coward. We were through. I could never date a man who didn’t stand beside me in the face of mindless oppression. Also, he was just too tall, I’d have constant neck aches trying to get high enough to kiss the guy.

“You are wrong,” I said, face warming in anger. “You are behaving all sorts of wrong. You shouldn’t even be here.”

He cocked his head and studied me. Still didn’t pass the damn menu. I swear I saw red, endless expanses of it. Though that might have been the scarlet silk lining the restaurant walls.

I clicked my fingers in demand. “Give it to me.”

A moment later his features relaxed, and finally, at long damn last, he handed the stupid thing over. “You’re worried about money.”

I followed Ben’s good example and hid behind the thick black folder.

“Lena?” Jimmy hooked a finger in the top of the menu, pulling it down so he could see me. “Me or Ben will pay. Why the hell are you worrying about that? Just enjoy yourself, eat what you want. That’s why I brought you here.”

I closed my eyes for a moment, searching for a calm happy place. It eluded me. “Jimmy, I pay Dutch when I go out on a date. It’s my way and I expect you to respect that. Also, you didn’t bring me here. Well, you did, but … never mind, I’m supposed to be here on a date with Ben. You are supposed to be somewhere else. Not sitting here, worrying about what I’m ordering for dinner or who’s paying or what we’re talking about.”