Wait…Emerson is a great woman. Yes she was but what the hell was that? I feel my blood begin to boil, a raging fire threatening to burn any of my sensibility.
“Engaged to Emerson. Your boss, Emerson?” Liam asks, confused.
“They were engaged but Wesley screwed up and now they’re not.” I dig into my chicken, trying to control my anger. “So, what did you need tonight anyway? We signed the contracts and there was nothing left to do.”
“Milana, you sound agitated. Did I say or do something?”
I turn to face him, composing my jealousy as he gazes back with an irritating grin.
“So Liam, are you Milana’s boyfriend?”
“Yes,” Liam answers, placing his arm around my chair, the same time I say ‘no.’ Liam diverts his attention to me. Shit, I didn’t know what overcame me. The panic. Blame the panic.
“Well, which one is it?” Wesley questions, leaning back and watching the two of us.
“We dated, back at home. Liam surprised me today. It seems it was the day of surprises.”
“You guys have been together forever, you’re practically married,” Flynn blurts out, again, oblivious to the sound of Wesley’s teeth practically grinding from rage. “So Liam, you moving out here?”
“Not my kinda place.”
“So, what is your kinda place? Hay, barn, cows greeting you in the morning while you milk them?” Wesley mocks, much to mine and Liam’s annoyance.
“Just don’t like this plastic lifestyle. Money-hungry creeps.”
“Money-hungry creeps?” Wesley laughs, arrogantly. “Driven, smart people—making a living.”
Liam throws his napkin onto the table. “Yeah, that and dumbass actors.”
“Okay, stop, the both of you. Who wants fortune cookies?” I wave Mrs. Ling over with desperation. She carries over a tray of cookies and the moment the tray is in front of me, my grabby hands crack one open hoping for a miracle.
Choose wisely. Your happiness depends on it.
I look over at Mrs. Ling. She purposely turns away, dusting a shelf and ignoring the fact that she had slipped that into mine. You don’t tamper with fortune, Mrs. Ling! I yell, internally.
“Let’s get outta here. Where you staying, man?” Flynn asks Liam.
“This place…not far from here.”
“Why don’t you just crash at our place?”
“Sure. Is that okay, Milly?”
This is getting worse by the second. There is rock, a pile of shit—then me. Why did Flynn have to suggest that in front of Wesley? How could my brother be that stupid?
“Um, I guess it’s fine. I mean, yes. Don’t waste money staying somewhere. I need to get some fresh air. Are we done?”
I don’t even wait for a response, exiting the restaurant, desperate to breathe and release my tight chest. I begin walking, my name being called but everything a blur while I walk as if on auto-pilot.
“Milly.” A tight grip holds me back. Liam forcefully holding on—determined to get an answer. “Who is he?”
“What?” I answer, distracted by a homeless man lying on the pavement.
“Wesley,” he says in a harsh tone, gritting his teeth. “Did you sleep with him?”
“No,” I defend myself, trying to explain without hurting him. “Liam, it’s not like that.”
“Fuck, Milly!” he yells, letting me go. His hands tuck into his jean pockets, and with anger fueled by jealousy, he paces back and forth with a heavy stomp. “I’m not fucking stupid! You barely call me anymore and when we talk, you’re distant. You’ve changed.”