Way Too Smart

"You keep saying that, honey. But I don't believe it. And I don't appreciate people lying to me."

"Let me guess, Mr. Saber likes it even less."

His lips twitched. "You catch on quick."

"Not always," she muttered.

He gave her a curious look. This guy was sharp. Way too smart for her.

A knock on the door made her tense up and she had to suppress a gasp of pain. Gomez didn't seem pleased with the noise she made. He looked even more displeased as he glared at the door.

"Who is it?"

"Oh, Trevor, it's just me." The door opened and there she was. Lucy.

Great.

"Don't call me Trevor," Gomez replied sharply.

Ouch. She would probably slink away and cry if he ever used that tone with her.

"Sorry, Gomez."

"Mr. Gomez," he corrected.

"Mr. Gomez." This time, Lucy's voice was harsh. It seemed like she couldn't maintain the sweet act when he wasn't buying it.

"Right. What do you want, Lucy?"

"Everyone is waiting for you. What should I do?"

"Send them home and let them know we'll be in touch," Mr. Gomez replied.

"I think they'll want to hear from you. Plus, the alcohol rep just arrived and wants to talk. I mean, she's not too badly hurt, right?" Lucy looked down at her with fake sympathy.

Right. Like she genuinely cared about Elle.

“I’m fine. Really. You should go talk to them,” she said to Gomez.

He sighed and glared at Lucy. His face softened as he turned to Elle.

That was nice.

Really nice. What was even nicer was that Lucy saw it and her face tightened in anger. While Elle didn’t usually enjoy other people getting upset, it was hard to feel sympathy toward Lucy.

“Sure you’ll be all right, sweetheart?”

Lucy’s mouth dropped open.

Oh yeah. That stab of satisfaction Elle got at seeing Lucy’s face definitely made her a bad person.

But she didn’t care. Not one bit.

“I’m fine.”

Gomez stood and nodded to her. “Stay there. Do not move.”

And he didn’t consider himself bossy?

As soon as he was gone, she attempted to stand. Ouch. This was bad. Taking the bus was going to be painful. But she couldn’t sit here and wait for him to get back. She needed to go home and hide under the covers for about a week.

That would fix everything.

“What are you doing? Are you all right?” Caramel rushed into the room and grabbed her arm, helping her up.

“Not really. But I will be. Thanks for getting my stuff. I’m really sorry I messed everything up.”

“Girl, you were dancing like a dream. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you until . . .”

“Until I messed it all up. Story of my life.”

Caramel bit her lip. “Where did Gomez go?”

“Lucy came and got him.”

Caramel’s lip curled. “Say no more.”

“I’m supposed to wait here.”

“Yeah?”

“But I don’t think I want to wait here.” Because with each moment that passed, with each flashback of her falling off the pole, she became more agitated.

“So what do you want to do?”

She chewed at her lip. What did she want to do? Lord, making decisions sucked sometimes. But she had to suck it up and make them. She was an adult. She was in charge of a child. Well, not so much a child since he was taller than she was and was fond of bossing her around.

Still, at thirty-five years old, it shouldn’t be this hard to make decisions.

“You want to leave?” Caramel asked kindly.

It was for the best, right? Gomez was probably hoping that he’d return and find her gone. So, really, she was doing what he wanted.

That made her feel marginally better.

She nodded. “Yeah. I want to go.”

“I want to tell you that it doesn’t matter that you fell but I can see that it does,” Caramel murmured quietly.

“You’re very observant. And kind.”

Caramel shrugged. “At the end of the day, I’ve got to look myself in the mirror. I’m not always nice. I don’t always make the right choices, but I’m trying to be a better person.”

“Well, I think you’re awesome. But you’d be even better if you could show me where the back entrance to this place is.”

Caramel grinned. “You got it.”

Ten minutes later, Elle set out toward the bus station. It was only two blocks from Pepper, so at least she didn’t have too far to walk. Just as well with the pain slicing through her.

She’d had to lie to Caramel and tell her that she’d parked down the street to get her to leave. The only reason Caramel hadn’t walked her to her fake car was because she had to get ready for tonight.

But she’d given Elle her phone number. So while everything else might have turned to shit tonight, at least she’d made a new friend.

That was never a bad thing, right?

What was a bad thing was the pain in her back, making her shuffle along, and the fact that she didn’t know what time the next bus came. And it was cold.

Really fuckin’ cold.

Tears threatened, but she wouldn’t give in to them.

No. Nope.

She could make it to the bus stop and wait for the bus. Then, she could sit for a while on the bus. Then walk on sore feet to her crummy apartment, where the best thing in the world waited for her.

Her nephew, Brooks.

He wasn’t her blood nephew, but that didn’t matter. He was Joe’s. And Joe had always been hers as much as she’d been his.

So Brooks was hers too.

Sometimes looking at Brooks hurt, because he was the exact image of Joe. But it hurt in a good kind of way, because having Brooks meant she also always had a piece of Joe.

And if she got under enough blankets on her crummy bed, well, she might just be able to warm up.

Shivering, she moved slowly through the parking lot to the street.

“You’re not very obedient, are you?” a deep voice asked.

She let out a gasp, then turned around, wincing in pain as her back protested. Her legs gave out, and she knew she was about to hit the ground hard.

Strong arms wrapped around her, lifting her up against a solid chest.

This time, tears streamed down her face.

"Damn it."

"What's wrong? Is it your back?"

"No, it's my eyes."

"Your eyes?" he questioned. "What happened to your eyes? Geez, I was only gone for twenty minutes."

"They're leaking."

"Leaking?" He paused, looking down at her. The parking lot was well-lit, but she couldn't quite decipher his thoughts. "You mean you're crying?"

"Yes. If that's what you want to call it."

"Pretty sure that's what it's called, sweetheart."

She sniffled. "I don't like it. I want it to stop."

"It's okay to cry."

"Do you cry?" she asked, surprised.

"No. I can't even remember the last time I cried."

"Well, then, when you do cry, come back to me and tell me it's okay. Because right now, it's really not. If it gets worse, then I'll start sobbing. And if I start sobbing, then I'll get all snotty. My makeup will run, and my cheeks will turn blotchy. It's a whole mess, and none of it is... is pretty!" she wailed.

"Do you also get louder?" he asked, stepping into Pepper.

"Yes!" she cried. "Oh God, people are going to see me."

"Yes, they're probably wondering how a fox ended up here."