Mr Garcia

He looks around the restaurant. "Let's go."

"What?"

"Fuck this. Let's just leave. Neither of us want to be here with them. We have things we need to discuss."

I drag my hand down my face. "You would actually do that to her?"

"I would take her home first, of course. Let's do that." He glances at his watch. "Can we meet at, say, eleven?"

"What?"

"I have security with me."

I pretend to look at the menu.

"Near the door."

I look over and see two men in suits standing to the side of the entrance. "I saw them before."

"Once I'm home for the night, they leave me alone," he says. "You could come over to my place if you wanted to."

I stare at him, deadpan.

This man is a fucking idiot. "I have nothing to say to you other than you're a douche, and I feel sorry for your date."

He smiles softly as his eyes hold mine. "It's good to see you."

My heart somersaults in my chest.

Don't look at me like that.

"Don't, Seb," I whisper.

"April, we have things to talk about. You know we do. We need a clean slate before we go away next week."

"You're going to ruin everything. This job is really important to me, and I don't want to fuck it up. If Bart finds out about any of this—"

"He won't."

"Please, Sebastian, stop this. We have a past. That's it."

He stares at me.

"Just leave the past where it belongs, back there. I don’t want anything to do with you now. I’m not the same girl you knew back then."

He clenches his jaw as his eyes hold mine.

"Here you go." The bartender puts the four drinks onto the counter.

"Thank you," Sebastian says. "Put them on my bill." He picks up his drinks, and with one last lingering look, he says, "Goodbye, Bennet." He turns and walks back to his table, and my heart drops in disappointment.

So, that’s it? He's just giving up? Of course, he is.

I mean, I don’t want him, but it would have been nice if he fought a little harder.

Maybe he is into his date?

What the hell is wrong with me? He makes me act and feel like an errant, indecisive teenager.

With a heavy exhale, I make my way back to the table. "What's this?" Duke asks as I put the two cocktails down.

"Dirty Martini." I smile.

Duke takes a sip, and I watch him for a moment as guilt rolls around in my heart. "You're a really great guy, Duke."

He smiles sadly. "But…"

"But we both know that this is our last date."

His gaze drops to his glass. "If it's our last date, can we at least make worth it?"

My eyes hold his. "No, baby." I take his hand over the table. "No more lovemaking. No more dates. No more booty calls. Just fond memories from here on in."

"I'm going to miss you."

"I'm going to miss you, too." I squeeze his hand in mine. "Hey, but it was fun, right?"

He smiles sadly and nods. "I don’t know what you're looking for, babe, but I hope you find him."

My eyes fill with tears, and it's unexpected.

I don’t know what I'm looking for, either, but I don’t think I'll ever find him.

Because someone who can make me feel whole again doesn’t exist.

Duke begins to chatter on and talk about his day, but my mind is far away.

How did I get like this? So cold and detached.

My ex-husband has a lot to answer for.

It's not that he slept with someone else. It's not about the infidelity.

Far from it.

Something in my DNA changed that day, it altered who I was as a person.

And I miss her.

I'm feeling over emotional and teary-eyed. I need to pull myself together. I just need to get through dinner, and then I can fall apart when I get home.

"I'm just going to the bathroom."

I walk down the corridor at the side of the restaurant and into the bathroom. It’s a single cubicle with its own basin and mirror. I wash my hands and stare at my reflection in the mirror. I feel fragile.

My eyes well with tears. God, April, pull yourself together.

What's wrong with me? I'm never teary.

The door handle turns, telling me that someone else is waiting to use the restroom. "Just a minute!" I call.

I wipe the makeup from under my eyes, and I pinch my cheeks and shake my hands before I exhale heavily and open the door.

Sebastian's big brown eyes meet mine.

He steps into the bathroom, forcing me back, and he closes the door behind him.

Without a word, he takes my face in his hands and kisses me. His lips are soft, his intent is strong, and I screw up my face against his.

His tongue dances against mine.

"I couldn’t go home without kissing you," he whispers against my lips.

And I feel it for the first time in forever.

I feel it to my toes.