Never Say Never, Part Two (Second Chance Romance, Book 2) (6 page)

So, her friend was too high class for a pie?
 

“What are you used to, then?”
 

“French cuisine, romantic nights out with Brian.”
Amanda took another sip of her beer and Emily rolled her eyes surreptitiously.

She had as many airs and graces as Chastity, with the added bonus of having betrayed her trust.
 

“What about the kids?”
 

“What about them? We have a sitter.”
Amanda took a slice from the pizza and delivered it onto her plate. She picked up a knife and fork and set to work. They’d ordered a Margherita because it wasn’t too ‘out there’
for her guest.
 

“I’m glad you decided to come out.”
 

“Yeah, I had to tell Bri that I’m out with Lydia. She’s an old friend. A senator’s wife actually. We’ve gotten real close since the wedding. She was my maid of honor, of course.”
 

“Of course.”
 

This was why Amanda had agreed to come out: to spend the evening bragging about her fantastic life. However, that was a façade and if she didn’t see it straight away, she would eventually. Brian would consume her and turn her into a shell of a woman.
 

Emily wasn’t jealous. She was disappointed and angry.
 

And she had a purpose.
 

“I miss the kids. Things have been tough since I got out.”
Emily had to try the sympathy vote first. Failing that, she’d order a bottle of red and get Amanda legless. Then the information would flow –
hopefully without vomit.
 

“Tough, huh?”
The silly bitch couldn’t keep a smile off her face. She was obsessed with a pseudo competition which hadn’t existed for years.
 

Emily had been the cheerleader in High School and popular in College. Brian had chosen her instead of Amanda. This marriage tasted of a desperate need for approval on her part. It was sad.
 

“Yeah, but don’t worry about that.”
No way would she tell this woman about her old habit. “What’s new with you.”
 

“Oh my, there’s so much to tell. Happily married and I’m taking salsa lessons now, just for the heck of it.”
 

Ah, here was another sour point.
 

“That’s fantastic. If you need help learning, you know who to call.”
Emily couldn’t resist rubbing it in.
 

Amanda was a shitty dancer –
had been when she tried out for the cheerleading team and failed to make the cut.
 

“I hear you were working the strip clubs.”

How the hell did she know that? And what did Brian know?
 

“You must be crazy,”
Emily joked back, burying herself in her beer and resurfacing a moment later. “I’m at a reputable dance studio in the city. Pays well and it’s my passion. It’s so much fun to dance and get paid for it.”

Her friend’s upper lip curled. “Sounds like a strip club to me.”
 

Bitch. She wanted to bring her down. Probably because she needed to make herself feel better about being married to a fucking psychopath.
 

“I really want to see the kids again. I have to actually, it’s my right.”

“I’m not sure how many rights you have left, Emily. Besides, Brian will go to court if you try anything and I’m sure he won’t have trouble keeping you away from our house.”
 

“Why can’t it just be peaceful? Why does it have to be like this?”
 

“It’s your own fault.”
Amanda finished the last of her beer and genteelly placed the empty glass on the smooth table. It didn’t have a table cloth.
 

Emily summoned a waiter with a smile through gritted teeth. “A bottle of red for the table.”
Last resort. She needed an in, she needed information which would either help her get custody or get a little extra time with her kids.
 

Even if it was by subterfuge.
 

“That’s a good idea. Drown those sorrows and all that.”
Amanda took a bite of her pizza and wrinkled her nose above those horrid pink lips.
 

Why she insisted on dressing like Malibu Barbie was beyond Emily.
 

The waiter poured them a glass to taste but she signaled for him to fill ‘em up instead. Then she raised her glass.
 

“To a brighter future.”
 

“Right, clink.”
Amanda swigged the wine and swilled it around in her mouth. “It’ll do, I guess. Not the best vintage of merlot.”
 

Emily checked the label on the bottle. It was a Zinfandel.
 

“So, Brian and I are going away in the winter on a skiing trip. It should be fantastic fun.”
The life-sized Barbie bragged away and Emily’s mind went into overdrive.
 

“What about the kids?”

“That’s like your favorite question or something. They’ll stay with Brian’s mother or something. Shit, Em, what does it matter? It’s the French Alps. Didn’t you always want to go there?”
 

“Yeah, I’ve never been. Too busy.”
 

“Busy stripping,”
Amanda whispered, but she caught it anyway.
 

“Pardon?”
 

“Nothing, nothing. Just enjoying the wine.”
She lifted the glass to her lips again. They finished the pizza and chatted about old times, but her friend kept slipping in sly comments about her past and her bleak future.
 

Emily let it happen. It broke her down, but she needed this woman on a high if she’d get anything out of her before she collapsed into a paralytic heap after her second bottle of wine. Emily kept her glass level and drank only one.
 

“Sho I shaid we should go before it’sh too late.”
Amanda carried on about the ski trip. “He’sh always bushy at work theshe daysh.”
 

She was at the sweet spot. Anymore wine and she’d be beyond the point of no return.
 

“You ladies need anything else?”
The waiter appeared as if on cue.
 

“Just the bill thanks.”
Emily whipped out her wallet and took out the bills before it arrived, and drunk Malibu Barbie narrowed her eyes and frowned at the fifties.
 

What, she’d been expecting one dollar bills?
 

“We’d better get you home and into bed.”
Emily stood and walked round to help the inebriated doll out of her chair.
 

“I’m fine.”
She stumbled and collapsed into a giggling mess. Perfect. She’d get her home and manage a quick minute with the kids. Brian was out of town on business, apparently.
 

“Come on.”
Emily hoisted her up and waved apologies at the other patrons.
 

“Emily?”
 

Shit. Not now. Please not now.
 

“Chase.”
She turned, Amanda’s arm looped around her neck.
 

It was him, looking as fine as ever. Janet strode up beside him and slipped her hand in his, and he didn’t shrug her off. It was true, then. He had let go and this dancing bitch was his new thing.
 

Rage overpowered her. She had to get out before she did a Mount Vesuvius eruption in the middle of the Italian restaurant.
 

Janet gave a feral grin. “Fancy meeting you here.”
 

“Who’sh thish?”
Amanda asked.

* *

“What are you doing here?”
Janet stroked Chase’s muscular arm with a shit-eating grin.
 

“I don’t see how that’s your business.”
This was a disaster. The last thing she needed was her past to meet her present. Amanda had the potential to spew everything to them and risk her privacy.
 

That was it. It wasn’t like Emily cared what Chase thought. Was it?
 

“Who’sh thish?”
The drunken woman repeated.
 

“Nobody.”
 

“That’s nice,”
Chase snapped back, “but I guess I shouldn’t expect anything else from you.”
 

“Oh ho.”
Janet chuckled and clapped in mock excitement.
 

All that anger had culminated in the pit of her stomach, a lead ball which had become red hot and turned to molten lava. She didn’t need this right now. She wanted an escape.
 

Everything had been going off without a hitch, kinda, but this was a spanner in the works.
 

“Come on, Amanda, let’s get you home.”
 

“No, no, I wanna know who thish ish.”
 

Great, her ex-lover-man-thing, his lover-bitch and her ex-best friend in a room together. And she had to explain it somehow? Screw that.
 

“Time to go.”
She tugged at Amanda’s limp arm, but the woman possessed drunken strength and stood there, an obstinate mule.
 

“I wanna know who thish
–”

“Chase Newman,”
he interrupted and extended a hand, but Amanda was too drunk to grasp it properly so he settled for a half-wave instead.
 

It would’ve been funny, except it was the shittiest thing imaginable.
 

“This is Amanda. She’s my ex-husband’s new wife.”
It was like ripping off a bandaid and the reaction from Chase was appropriate.
 

He pulled his mouth downward and let out a low exclamation.
 

Janet gripped him tighter and stared at Amanda as if she’d never seen a woman before.
 

“Ow, Janet, loosen the death grip there.”
She let go and he rubbed the spot she’d pinched him.
 

What was that about?
 

Janet continued glaring at Amanda like she was a poisonous snake.
 

“Chashe Newman.”
 

“It’s Chase actually,”
he quipped, and Emily sniggered in spite of herself. They had the same sense of humor at least. And an irrevocable attraction to each other. And some kind of soul connection. And…
 

“Right, so we’ll be going now.”
 

“Wait, wait, wait. I’d love to know more about Chashe over here. He looksh dreamy.”
 

“Watch it, bitch.”
Janet piped up and several of the customers turned to watch the discussion. A waiter flitted around in the background, waggling menus like weapons. Better luck next time, buddy, this lot were here to stay.
 

Segway to World War 3.
 

“Easy, let’s not cause a scene.”
Chase studied the waiter with the menu-swords and gave a wry chuckle. “Not that Emily isn’t used to that.”

“You can’t help yourself can you? You just can’t help yourself.”
 

The two women, the redhead and the blow-up Barbie, quietened their hissing to watch. It was a spectator sport for them. Bring the popcorn and cotton candy and all that.
 

“I’m not the one who can’t help myself.”
 

“Explain that.”
She loosened her grip on Amanda and the woman slipped downward an inch or two. She hefted her again.
 

“It means nothing. Nothing at all. Nothing to you and nothing to me.”
 

“Why are we having this conversation again? Didn’t I tell you it was over?”
 

“Ha!”
Chase guffawed and those same customers whipped their heads around again. Chatter in the restaurant faltered. The scrape of forks and knives dyed down for a second. “I don’t care what you say Emily. You’re a quitter.”
 

“He’sh got a point.”
 

“Shut up, Amanda.”
Emily snapped, then reeled in the anger. She couldn’t afford to piss off her ‘friend’
a.k.a. one way ticket to custody.
 

“I didn’t quit on you. I quit on the concept of you. You’re a fake, Chase and you always will be. Why do you think you’re here with this whore?”
She gestured to Janet, who cracked her knuckles.