With all that swirling around in my brain, I decided not to call him. I couldn’t trust myself not to throw myself at him.
The next day, I went through my routine as usual, getting up, showering, dressing, and then heading down to the Sea Siren.
On the drive to work, I passed the old seedy bar I'd once served at. Normally, when I drove past, I was filled with the feeling of pride that I'd gotten out of there and that I had a better place. I liked to think I was the one who put them out of business.
But on this morning, a couple of trucks withManion-Clarkeprinted on their sides were parked in front.
I slowed down to see what was going on. Sam's uncle Zach was standing outside the building, along with his partner, Troy. The two of them were studying the building, with Zach pointing up toward something along the roof.
"You've got to be kidding me." I slammed my hand on the steering wheel as I continued past the building toward the Sea Siren.
Sam lied to me. I shook my head in disgust with myself. I should have known he wasn’t being honest when he said he didn’t know what he planned to do with the property. How could I have let him get to me like that? He told me he wasn't building a club there, yet the fact that his uncle’s construction company was parked in front looking like they were plotting their project was proof that Sam was lying.
Maybe he was lying about it all. Maybe he was just softening me up so I wouldn’t stand in his way. Or maybe he wanted to fuck me and then leave me again.
I was seething by the time I arrived at work, so I hid myself away in my office until the lunch crowd arrived and my girls showed up, Lucy, Lane, Anne, Bridget, and even Harper, who was the only one who’d brought her baby with her.
"I know these are supposed to be kid-free lunches, but I'm still nursing and..."
All my friends shook their heads.
"We've been there and done that. Besides, we want to see little Noelle," Bridget said.
I escorted them out to their usual table, dragging over an extra umbrella to make sure Harper and Noelle would stay in the shade.
"Let me go tell my staff you’re here, and then I’ll join you." Making sure everything was going smoothly in the kitchen, as well as at the bar and with my servers, I returned to my friends.
When I arrived at the table and took a seat, whatever conversation they were having ceased. In my experience, that was a sure sign that they’d been talking about me.
I arched a brow. "What are you guys saying about me?"
They all shrugged and looked away, either at their menus, out at the beach, or in Harper's case, down at the baby.
"Dane and I are planning to have a friendsgiving party next week,” Bridget finally said.
Friendsgiving? Were we that close to Thanksgiving already? I guess we were since it was about two weeks away. God, had it only been two weeks since Halloween? It was about a month since Sam had walked back into my life. It seemed like forever
"Of course, I want you to come, but Zach is going to invite his nephew, and I wasn't sure whether you would come," Bridget finished.
I shook my head “No. I won't come." I cursed Sam for getting in the way of my social life.
Most of the ladies gave me a sympathetic look, except for Harper. Her eyes narrowed sharply. It reminded me that she had been sympathetic to Sam’s cause the day he had given us a tour of his house.
"Sam Clarke is a liar."
"What did he lie about?" Lucy asked as she squeezed the lemon into her glass of water Dana brought out.
"He told me he wasn't going to build a club up the street from me after all. But today, when I drove by it, his uncle and Troy were in front, looking at it like they were getting ready to start the renovation."
Bridget tilted her head. "If you want, I can call my dad and ask him."
I’d forgotten for a moment that Troy was Bridget’s father. I was glad I didn’t say anything disparaging about him. "What other reason would they be there except to start work on the club?"
Harper fiddled with her silverware. "I saw Sam yesterday. He’s got it bad for you."
I looked at her and gaped. "I thought you were my friend."
She turned her sharp stare on me again. "I am your friend. That's why I’m telling you this. I know that he hurt you in the past. And I know that it makes you resistant to him. But it also means that you interpret everything he does through the lens ofhe's an asshole. And I don't think he is."