The Replacement (18 page)

He stops pacing. “You seduced me.”

“Right, I made you trip and fall into bed with me.”

“You did, Elise. You wouldn’t let up.”

My nostrils flare and I stalk up to him with a heated gaze. “I took what I wanted, when I wanted it. I’m not responsible for what you chose to do with your dick. If you honestly came here to pedal that bullshit, you can turn right back around and pedal it somewhere else.” I scoff and whirl toward the door, thoroughly disgusted. He used to be too-sweet-for-his-own-good Nate, all innocent and endearing. Now he’s just like me, and I want no part of that mutation.

“I didn’t come here to argue or insult you,” he speaks softer now, not bothering to make a move for the front door. “You’re not listening. I came here because I want to know how you feel about me breaking up with Natalie. I want…”

Oh God, don’t say it.

“I can’t stop thinking about you. I want to be with you again. I mean, do you think…” He looks at me with puppy dog eyes, the ones that I recognize. They’re the only thing giving away traces of Nate’s lost naiveté.

I sigh and rub at my forehead. This is Christian Walker all over again. I can’t handle this shit. “Nate, first you come over here blaming me for your decision to cheat on Natalie, and now you’re telling me you want to be with me again? You want to know how I feel about you dumping her?” I narrow my eyes and suddenly I can’t contain the rage that’s building inside of me. Nate steps back a hair, looking frightened. Good. He should be frightened.

“That’s not what I meant.” He’s putting his hands up in the air, slowly stepping backward. “I know how that sounded, but I swear that’s not what I meant. I’m just…confused.”

“Confused about what?” I snap, cocking my head to the side. “Confused about wanting to fuck me again? I don’t think there’s anything confusing about that, do you?”

“Elise. Listen to me. Being with you just made me realize I shouldn’t be with Natalie. I’ve been blind or something. I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. We don’t fit.”

“Nate,” I say evenly, closing my eyes to count to ten, “you need to get out. You need to go home and understand that what happened with us is never going to happen again. Whether you do or don’t end things with Natalie is not my problem. Is that clear enough for you?”

My eyes open and I expect to find Nate’s puppy dog eyes again, but I find something new: Anger.

There’s a gleam there, and a bout of silence stretches between us. His mouth opens slightly and he pauses before choosing his words, a veil of thoughtfulness dropping over his features. “You really don’t give a shit, do you?”

“Nate.”

“Wow. I see that now. I mean, I thought I saw it before. But I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. That’s why Natalie wants to be your friend, you know that? Because she likes to see the good in people. She likes to judge someone’s character for herself, not base her opinion on what everyone else says.” He laughs dryly, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Oh my God, I’m such an idiot.”

“You should go.” I open the door and create a path for him.

“Can I ask you something?” He smiles at me in complete, dumbfounded wonder. “Why do you do it, huh?”

“I said you should go.”

“Come on, Elise. I want to know. Why do you screw half the town and make fools of us, huh?” His eyes squint into thin slivers and they study me. “Why do you ruin people?”

The breath in my lungs stabs at me, forcing words up my throat, but I can’t get a grip on them.

“Tell me, damn it,” he insists.

Tears brim my eyes and I look away, opening the door wider.

Nate huffs and finally makes his move, barreling toward the doorway. “Forget it,” he mumbles. “It’s a good thing you’re alone, Elise. It’s a good thing you keep everyone out. The world’s a lot safer when you lock yourself in a cage.” He shoulders past me and the cool air drifts into the apartment. His words are hanging there, weighing down like a heavy quilt. I quietly shut the door.

My need for hot chocolate and a shower are sidelined by my need to crawl into bed. The clock on the wall tells me I have at least four hours before I’m due at the diner for my shift. Dragging my feet into the bedroom, I let my body sink into the mattress. I fall flat on my back and look up at the ceiling. There are no answers there, no remedies for the hollowness that I feel. I shift my head and look to the right, at my dream jar. It seems to sparkle. I lift a limp hand and lazily unscrew the lid. Pulling out a wad of bills, I place the money on the nightstand and screw the lid back on. I stare at the bills for what feels like hours before I begin to doze off. Sleep has never felt so good.

CHAPTER 10

It’s been a week since I left Ryder naked in his tent. I’ve been pouring myself into my French audio lessons and focusing on picking up as many extra hours at the diner as possible. Extra Christmas money would be nice, not that I have anyone to shop for, but buying a few extra things for Jay and his family makes me feel good.

Crazy as it may be, I also want to get a gift for Natalie, especially after the snow globe incident.

Since I ran out on her at the diner that day, she has backed off. She has been her kind, polite self, but she has given me space. I don’t know whether to be relieved about that or to feel worse about…everything.

Things haven’t gone as I expected.

Nate hasn’t told her about what happened between us, but he did break up with her. Natalie was a wreck for a few days, having to excuse herself at work a few times in the middle of waiting on tables. I didn’t say a word, just cut her a break here and there by taking over the tables when she needed to step out.

Now here I am, entertaining the idea of buying her a Christmas gift. I’m telling myself it’s only the courteous thing to do, but when do I ever care about being courteous? And didn’t I throw the whole courteous thing out the window when I decided to sleep with Nate?

That isn’t the only thing getting underneath my skin this week. My nightmares are getting worse. I blame Ryder, which is completely irrational and probably unfair of course, but since I met him, a ball of discomfort has roiled deep in my stomach and shows no sign of relenting any time soon.

The diner is bustling on Friday morning as I clock in. The regulars have taken over their usual section, and Jay is wiping down the counters as he greets me. “Morning, hon.”

“Hey, Jay.”

“Hey, Brad’s in the kitchen. Said something about needing to speak with you when you got here.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll go find him now.” I wrap my apron around my waist and tighten my ponytail, swinging over to the kitchen.

“Hey Princess, you’re here.” He’s lifting two plates when he spots me, his smile lighting up.

“Yes sir, I am. What’s up? Jay said you needed to talk to me?”

“Yeah, I do—uh hey, Natalie?” He nods over my shoulder when he sees her, giving her an impish grin. “Sorry to ask, but ah, could you run these out to table five?”

“What do I look like to you, huh?” Natalie’s eyes sparkle and she grins back.

“You know you love me.” He winks, and her cheeks flame as she takes the plates from him. “I owe ya, babe. Thanks.” She says hi to me and rolls her eyes, then hustles out of the kitchen.

“
Babe
?” I arch a brow at Brad.

“Hey, don’t start on me. It’s too damn early in the morning. I’ve just been helping her work through some stuff since that Nate dude dumped her.”

“Uh huh…”

“Elise, don’t give me that look.”

I raise my hands and lean on one hip. “Just don’t hurt her. She’s a good girl.” My insides cringe as the words come out. What the hell am I saying? “Anyway, what do you need?”

“Come here.” Brad pulls at my elbow and gives the cooks a cheeky smile as he tugs us into the pantry. He scoots up into the far corner, along the wall. “I was just wondering if you were up for getting together this weekend. It’s been a while. I miss ya.”

“You had to pull me in here for that? You have my number, Brad. You’re like…my brother, or something. You can call any time.”

“You did not just call me your brother.”

“God,” I drop my head in my hands with a laugh, “that’s so not what I meant and you know it.”

“Uh huh…”

“I mean, you always call when you wanna hook up. We’ve never had to do this—” I swish my hand between the both of us, “you know, because it’s just understood.”

“I guess you have a point.” He puts his hands on his hips and pretends to be deep in thought.

I sigh. “Is that all you needed? Seriously?” I give him a playful jab in the shoulder, turning on my heel to leave the pantry.

“Nope,” he grins wide, grabbing my wrist. “I needed this, too.” He abruptly pushes me up against the wall and kisses me, tilting my chin up to meet his mouth.

I squirm and push him away. “Brad, come on.”

“What’s this?” He waves his hands in the air as he beams. “You’re my number one girl, Elise. Work with me, here.”

I smile with him but quickly stifle it, not wanting to encourage him anymore. “Look, I’m very flattered, Romeo. But I think this has run its course, ya know?”

Brad’s smile fades a little as he realizes I’m serious. “You’re for real right now?”

“Yeah,” I shrug, tucking a rebellious strand of hair behind my ear, “I’m just not feeling it anymore. Nothing personal.”

“I can’t believe you don’t want any of this,” he gestures to his body, his eyes wide and ego out of control. He’s just playing around, but I know that deep down, even if it’s only a shred, there is a part of him that’s kind of disappointed. “Elise, you’re killin’ me here, girl. Why the change of heart?”

“It’s just time, Brad. I mean, I was there for you for a while during all the drama with Karen, but you two are over now, and…ya know, this is just over, too, that’s all.” I reach up and give him an exaggerated pat on the cheek. “I’m sure you’ll get on without me just fine.” Pushing off the wall, I saunter off and make my way out of the kitchen.

My mind chews over what I’ve just decided. I’ve been thinking about cutting things off with Brad for a while, but never really got around to actually doing it. Brad was always fun, carefree, and easy. Simple.

A certain outdoorsy type with smoky brown eyes and intriguing tattoos crosses my mind. I sweep those thoughts away.

“Hey, Elise?” Natalie asks as I step back out to pick up my first table of the morning. She’s still holding back, even coming across a bit timid. I wonder if I should say something about the snow globe. Maybe tell her it’s sitting on my bedside, next to my dream jar. Maybe I should ask her how she’s been. Damn, I suck at making conversation.

Especially when I’ve fucked the person’s boyfriend. Or ex-boyfriend.

“Hey,” I say.

“How’s your week going?”

“Okay, thanks. Yours?”

“Okay.” She starts fidgeting with her fingers, her gaze bouncing between me and the booths to our left, which are all waiting on service. “I was just wondering if you wanna grab a coffee later. Or maybe lunch? I just checked the schedule. It looks like you don’t work a double today, so…”

“Oh.” I glance over at the busy cluster of customers waiting to be seated at the front door. There are at least four tables I need to wait on, and Brad is running around as fast as he can, serving plates. I start moving for the hostess stand. “Sure, maybe. Let me uh…let me seat these people and we can chat later, okay?”

“Okay, yeah. Sounds good.” She nods quickly and scurries off, and I stride toward the entrance, thankful to have delayed that conversation. “Hey, how are ya? How many?”

“Three, please.” I seat the first party and let them know Natalie will be right with them. As I return to the hostess station, I decide to fill up Natalie’s section as much as possible between now and the end of our shift. Maybe if I keep her busy enough, she won’t have time to ask me about lunch again. I might feel compelled to buy her a Christmas gift in reciprocation, but my feelings are still the same. I cannot be friends with the girl.

My shoulders tense when I greet Tim and his fiancée Cheryl, but I play it cool, giving them a tight smile as I lead them to a booth. I make sure to sit them in Brad’s section. Tim plays it cool, too, acting as if he’s never seen me in his life, and Cheryl eyes me curiously but remains polite when Tim and I exchange glances. I make my way back to the hostess station for round three, scribbling some notes on the seating chart. I exhale and raise my head to greet the next customer.

My lungs seize up.

“Just one, please,” Ryder says, all cool and calm, with a rolled-up newspaper tucked beneath one arm. “Oh, and ah, I’d like your section, please.” His expression remains neutral as he holds eye contact, and I begin to stutter in response.

When the hell did I begin stuttering?

“Okay—sure—here…this way.” I start to lead him to a far booth on the left side of my section and hand him a menu. “I’ll be back to take your order in just a few minutes.”

“I already know what I want,” he says, before I can slip away. His words root me still, and I find him watching me with a steady gaze. One look at those eyes, and it’s abundantly clear that he refuses to be ignored. “I’ll make my order now, if that’s okay with you.”