Take Me I'm Yours (Coffee House Chronicles) (26 page)

“
Giuseppe Zanotti,” Delilah answered. She still regarded her coolly.

“Right.” Marion dragged her bottom lip through her teeth
before launching into her planned apology. “Delilah, I’m a total bitch.” When her friend started to agree, she held up her hand. “I have a speech and if you talk, I’ll forget. You were so right about everything. Ethan is an asshole and I broke it off with him. I told him to forget he knows me. I’m so sorry about everything. Can you forgive me?”

Delil
ah bit her lip, mulling it over. She could see the look of
I told you so
in her emerald green eyes.

“Go ahead. You know you want to.”

“I told you so.” Delilah smiled broadly then. “And I forgive you. You know I can’t stay mad at you.” She put her arm around Marion’s neck and hugged her hard. “Besides, we’re best friends. There’s no sense in ruining a good fifteen year friendship over some dumb boy.”

She
laughed. “You’re right.” Though she wasn’t sure if she meant Graeme or Ethan.

“What about Graeme? Now that you’ve come to your senses, I’m assuming you’re
getting back together with him.”

“I don’t know yet. I thought maybe you could help me work that out. But first, I want to buy you a coffee.”

Delilah settled for the coffee of the day with an espresso shot. As they stood at the cream and sugar bar, Marion watched her pour packet after packet of sugar into her coffee.

“
I’ve never quite understood why you like your coffee that sweet,” she said.

“Hey,
I like a little coffee with my sugar.” Delilah reached for the cream. Marion watched as she poured enough to turn the coffee a light taupe.

“
Blech,” she said, staring at the concoction.

“I know, I know. And I like a lot of cream
too. It’s the mixture, Mar. The mixture.”

“
And it tastes good?”

“
It’s my thing, okay?”

They headed for a quiet corner where they both curled up in
the oversized leather furniture—Delilah in a chair and Marion on the love seat. As they sat, she held her half-empty latte in both hands and scanned the coffee house looking for Graeme and hoping she’d spot him. No such luck.

“I shouldn’t have said those things to you in the bathroom,”
she said. “I didn’t mean them.”

“I know you didn’t.” Delilah sipped her drink.
“And enough lamenting over it already. Why don’t you tell me why you really agreed to meet Ethan that night?”

“I wanted closure.”
she shrugged. “I thought maybe if I got him alone long enough to talk to him, I could get over it and finally move past the entire break up.”

“Not the brightest of plans,”
her friend said. “But then you had no idea I would be dragging Graeme there.”

“No, I didn’t.”
She winced, remembering the encounter. She ached for him and wished she had been in her right mind to listen to him. “I love him, Del. I really do.”

“I hope you mean Graeme and not that other slimy bastard.”

She laughed, happy to be back on good terms with her best friend. “Yes, I mean Graeme.”

Delilah looked thoughtful. “So when did you tell Ethan to shove off? Because I saw him bolt from the restaurant before you came back from the bathroom.”

“A couple of days ago.”

Delilah’s eyes widened and her eyebrows shot up.

“He called me the next day and woke me up from a sound sleep. Said he wanted to talk to me about that night and that whatever Graeme said about him wasn’t true.”

“What did G
raeme say about him?” she asked, hanging on the edge of every word.

“That’s just it. Graeme never mentioned Ethan to me. In fact, I didn’t let him do a lot of talking
.” She couldn’t stop from glancing at the door every time a new customer walked in. “Anyway, I was curious. I figured since I didn’t get my closure at the restaurant, I could that morning.”

“You agreed to meet
him?”

“Yes, at the Bonjour Café. He was already waiting for me when I got there. He finally came clean about all this getting back together business. He said his father told him if he didn’t marry me, then he would lose his promotion in the
family business. He also said his mother couldn’t show her face in the country club. I guess rumors are flying.”

“Aha!” Delilah exclaimed. “I knew that rat bastard had ulterior motives.”

“I suppose he needed a respectable wife instead of a porn star. So I told him Graeme never mentioned any of that to me. You should have seen the look of horror on his face when he realized I didn’t even know and he’d spilled his guts.”

She
laughed. “Damn! I wish I could have been there to see that.”

“It was priceless.” Marion smiled. “Anyway, then I told him to stay away from me.”

“Good for you, Mar. I’m proud of you, girl, for standing up to him. Finally! Jesus, it only took you two years.”

“I’m glad it’s over.”
She ran her finger around the rim of the cup, still scanning the coffee house for her handsome painter. “Now I don’t know what to do about Graeme. At the restaurant, he said he had his reasons for ignoring me at the gallery that day.”

“But he didn’t tell you?”

“No. He told you, though.”

“He wants to tell you himself and I think he should. It’s not my place.”

“Delilah, we’ve never kept secrets.”

“It’s not a secret,” she said quickly. “It’s news Graeme needs to tell you. Trust me on this.”

“All right.” Marion huffed out a breath, defeated. “He never told me he loved me.”

“He was hurting for you. And you two are both too stubborn to kiss and make up.”

“Not the New Marion. I’m going to call him.”

“Good!”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

“Come on, Del. Help me. You’re the one that knows how to talk to men.” Another patron entered and she glanced over to see if it was him.

“Ha!” Delilah grinned broadly. “You give me too much credit, Mar.”

“But—”

“Okay, listen.” She put
down her cup and leaned forward. “If you really want to get him back, I suggest you put aside your pride and ego and you tell him exactly how you feel. If you really are the New Marion, you’ll go after him if you really love him like you say. And
who
do you keep looking for?”

She
blinked. “Nobody.” She focused her attention on Delilah and swiftly changed the subject. “Should I go to his place?”

“Meet him on neutral ground if it makes you feel better.”
She grabbed her cup and leaned back into the cushioned chair.

The mere thought of calling Graeme and asking him to coffee or drinks or whatever made her stomach knot. It made her want to throw up. Or maybe that was still the emotional hangover she had from
her crying jag.

She
mulled it over. Would he even give her a chance after her awful behavior? She could imagine it now…calling him up and him answering.

“What am I going to stay to him?” It was more of a rhetorical question and one she wanted Delilah to answer
.

But Delilah answered nonetheless. “What about… ‘
Can we forget about the other night? I was a total idiot and by the way, I love you.’?”

“No,” Marion said, shaking her head. “That’s lame.” And it didn’t sound like something she’d say anyway. “How about, ‘Graeme, I love you. Can we start over?’”

Delilah giggled. “And he’d say, ‘Marion, I love you. Thank God you lost that loser!’”

They
shared a laugh. As Delilah glanced up, she froze. Her eyes wide with shock.

“Oh.My.God,” Delilah breathed and reach
ed for her. She clamped a hand on her arm.

“Ow!”

But she followed her gaze to see what Delilah saw…and nearly fainted. Graeme walked through the door. It was as though the Universe heard their conversation—and her thoughts—and was playing a sick joke on her. She never expected him to show up. It was only wishful thinking. Well, she got her wish.

Marion
’s throat constricted, her breath hitched. There he was, standing at the counter, looking as though he just rolled out of bed. His shirt was untucked and wrinkled, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He had on a pair of faded jeans and black boots. She could see paint still on his hands. He hadn’t shaved and his cheeks looked scruffy.

He had been painting
.

She sighed wistfully
.

“Mar, now’s your chance.”

“Are you nuts? I look like hell.” She fussed with her hair, smoothing her hand over the locks and reaching for her handbag. Digging through it, she came up with her compact and checked her eye make-up, smudging away any smears.

“He doesn’t look much better,” Delilah pointed out
.

And she was right. He didn’t. He looked like death warmed over
.

“I can’t
.”

“Sure you can.” She stood up then. “Hi, Graeme!”

“What in God’s name are you doing?” Marion said through gritted teeth.

It was too late. Graeme looked over, shock making his face pale a sickly gray shade. Delilah waved cheerfully and ran over
to him, taking him by the hand. He gave her a wary look then glanced at Marion with that same wary look.

It made those knots in her stomach tighten even more.

And then, to her utter horror, Delilah took Graeme by the hand after picked up his coffee and headed toward her!

Oh, God. Oh, God. OH, GOD!

“Look, Mar. It’s Graeme. Can you believe it? What a coincidence, huh?”

And suddenly something clicked inside her. With the great big grin on Delilah’s face,
she
knew
she had planned it. She’d deal with that later. Right now, she couldn’t speak. She and Graeme stared at each other in shocked silence. Clearly, neither expected to see the other.

“You kids have a lot of catching up to do. So, I’m just going to grab my bag and scoot.”

“You’re leaving?” Marion shot to her feet, panic welling inside her. She couldn’t be alone with Graeme. Not yet. She wasn’t ready!

“Mar,
it’s getting late and I have a very busy day tomorrow. I told you that.” She picked up her coffee. “A manicure, a pedicure, a facial. Shopping.”

“But tomorrow
is Wednesday,” she pointed out crossly.

“I’m ta
king the day off,” Delilah said and flashed a bright smile. She could always think fast on her feet, damn her. She leaned toward her to hug Marion good-bye then whispered, “Take pictures of the make-up sex.”

“Delilah!”

“See you crazy kids later!”

And before she could protest, Delilah was out the door
, leaving Graeme standing there in front of her looking uncomfortable. Marion sat, sinking into the soft leather, and reaching for her cup again. He never took his eyes off her.

“What are you doing here
?” he asked.

“I came for a latte.” She held up the
nearly empty cup. “I never expected to see you here.”

Okay
, that was a teensy lie. She hoped she’d see him. It was exactly why she picked the place. After all, he lived within walking distance. The odds of him showing up were good. He continued to stare at her with red-rimmed eyes. Perhaps he hadn’t been sleeping well, like her.

“You look like shit, Graeme.”

“I feel like shit,” he agreed.

Was he waiting for an invitation? Why did he
keep standing there? Finally, she waved to the chair next to her. “Want to sit and talk?”

He hesitated, indecision flashing across his face, before he conceded.
He put his cup on the table in front and then propped an ankle on his knee. She could see splotches of red and blue paint on his hands.

“Been painting?” she asked.

“Yes.” His voice sounded gruff and he didn’t elaborate.

So
she tried again. “Been having a few late nights then, huh?”

“
Mmm.” He reached for his cup, taking a sip.

She huffed her frustration. “Graeme, I’m working my ass off here. You want to help me out?”

“What do you want from me? You didn’t want to hear anything I had to say the other night. Should today be any different?”

Ouch.
His words stung and cut deep. She tried not to wince, but couldn’t help it. He was right. Why should she expect him to do that for her? Repairing the damage she’d done might be harder than she thought.

Tears stung her eyes and she swallowed hard, trying to keep them at bay. She took a sip of
cold coffee to busy her hands.