“No one.” She put the cell away. “Brenda about this weekend.” Lola stood. “I just need a minute alone.”
“No. Sit.”
She looked at the table and sat back in her chair.
“The last few days, you’ve left the room in the middle of our conversations more times than I can count. What’s going on?”
Sometimes it was all just too much to take in. Johnny was so happy about the bar. She was happy for him. She couldn’t seem to get further than that.
While they’d been seated at the kitchen table Sunday night, working on their plan, she’d glanced up once to find Johnny staring at her. She knew what was on his mind, but she was too afraid to bring it up. What did he think happened that night? Was the truth better or worse than his imagination?
“Hey,” Johnny said, calling her back from the memory. “Forget about the champagne. What’re you thinking right now?”
“I feel guilty,” she said quietly. “You’re hurting. And it’s my fault.”
“No. We went into this together.” He craned his neck to catch her eye. “Didn’t we, Lo? Start to finish, you and me. Have I given you any reason to think I’m hurt?”
“You’ve been so supportive.” He had been, in his own way. He didn’t judge her or put the blame on her. He was quiet, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t there for whatever she needed. “Somewhere inside, though, you must be angry.”
He sighed, working his jaw back and forth. “I try not to think about it. I think about the money and us. As long as I focus on you and me and what’s ahead of us, I’m okay.”
She tried not to think of it either, but Beau’s grip on her—his large, enveloping hands physically on her body but also the unwavering way he demanded her attention—would flash over her without warning. Sometimes that was the real reason she had to leave the room. Johnny had been so calm about it all, but his lack of reaction was beginning to worry her. “If you thought about it,” she said, “how would it make you feel?”
“Crazy. Hurt.” He looked away for one quick second. “And yes, angry. But none of that is directed at you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Those feelings will go away, I just need a little time.”
“If you had a second chance at the money, would you take it?”
“You mean would I have said yes, knowing what I know now?” He spun his water glass on the table. “I can’t really answer that, babe. I don’t know what you went through. I mean, look at what we did today. I never thought handing over that much money would be one of the best moments of my life, but there it is. Even though we didn’t yet—I already feel like I finally own something. And that something will mean a better life for my girl.”
She pressed her palms together in her lap. “That’s not what I was asking.”
“What then?”
The damp spot on the tablecloth grew while Johnny absentmindedly played with his water glass. She’d decided not to bring it up for a reason. The plan was that she’d never see Beau again, but his voice was still in her ear. He expected her to say yes. To submit to him another night. “Never mind,” she said. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Said anything about what? Look at me.”
She met his puzzled eyes. “He made me another offer, Johnny.”
“Who?”
“You know who.” She chewed her bottom lip. “I told him no.”
“He made you another offer?” He rubbed his forehead, shaking his head. “I don’t understand. When?”
“The morning after, when I was getting out of the car.”
&
nbsp; He dropped both forearms on the table and fixed his attention on her. “That was days ago. Why am I only hearing about this now?”
“I didn’t want to make things worse.”
“Worse?” he asked, raising his voice. “That’s not fair. Have I been anything other than completely understanding through all of this?”
“You’ve been amazing,” she said, her head lowered.
“If anyone has secrets, it should be you and me. Not you and him.”
“It wasn’t a secret, I just—”
“Don’t. Stop.”
She lifted her eyes again.
He leaned in. “I don’t think you understand how understanding I’ve been. I didn’t go crazy. I haven’t treated you differently since then.” He pointed to his chest. “I don’t deserve to be shut out.”
“You haven’t said no yet,” Lola pointed out.
He sat back against his chair and crossed his arms. “I mean, what the fuck am I supposed to say to that? What exactly went on that he’d pay another million for you?”
“Johnny,” she exclaimed. His words sent a stabbing pain through her stomach. Apparently, he was just as capable as Beau of making her feel cheap.
“No,” he said. “I want to know. If this is on the table, I need to know what happened that night. What exactly he got for his money. Where he took you.”
Her mouth fell open. “We agreed—”
“I did that for you. You don’t think I want to know the truth? It drives me insane wondering what a million dollars bought that prick.”
“Stop.” Lola’s throat was so thick, she couldn’t catch a breath. “I feel sick.”
“Yeah?” He banged his fist on the table. “Well, so do I.”
“Sir,” the waiter said, hurrying over. “I have to ask you—”
“I knew it,” Johnny said. He threw his napkin on the table and stood. “I’m sorry we’re not good enough for your fifty-dollar steak. We’ll go.”
“I didn’t say that, sir. Absolutely not—we value your business. I was just going to ask you to keep it down.”
“Johnny, just sit,” Lola pleaded.
“I have to get out of here.” He walked away.