Page 3 of Burning Embers
I've always been good at reading people—except with Rachel, who appears to have built her walls even higher than mine—and even those barriers weren’t high enough to disguise the truth: she wasn’t comfortable just now. I get this sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach and suck in a deep breath.
Leaving the plates, I wave at Mavis, holding up my palm and mouthing—I’ll be five minutes. She nods, and I follow the path Rachel just took.
Jase, our head of security, smiles when I walk through the doors, my head turning left and right around the punters smoking outside.
I don’t see her.
The hairs on the back of my neck rise. I choose to go left—there’s a space between our building and the one next door where the streetlights don’t quite reach.
“I’m not interested.” Her voice catches my attention, but it’s his back I see, crowding her against the wall.
She shoves at his chest, but he doesn’t budge.
I place my hand over his shoulder and yank him away.
“What the fuck?” he groans.
“Yes,what the fuck, exactly. I suggest you make yourself scarce.”
He looks to Rachel, then to me and shrugs. “It’s not like she’s worth my time, anyway.”
Stepping around me—I don’t leave him much room to pass—he scurries away like the rat he is. Rachel stands in place against the wall, her mouth slightly agape, eyes wide.
“Where are you parked?” I ask. She clears her throat and nods her head in the direction of her car. “I’ll walk you.”
Finding her voice, she says, “Okay, thanks.”
I’m not sure what she’s thanking me for, but I nod, stuffing my hands into the pockets of my jeans. She strides out and into the dim streetlight, and I fall into step beside her, our feet smacking into the concrete the only sound apart from an occasional car passing by.
Coming to a stop at what I presume is her car, I cock my head. It’s not what I thought she’d drive. And I can’t help shaking my head.
“What?” she asks, fidgeting. “If you’re going to give me a lecture, you can leave it. Why do you think I only meet my dateshere? Because it’s a safe space. How was I to know he’d turn into a complete prick as soon as we walked outside?”
I raise my eyebrow at her. “Like he was such a great bloke inside?” I ask, deadpan. She squints at me, crossing her arms. I step in a little closer. She doesn’t budge, raising her chin in defiance; I struggle to hold back a smile. “I was surprised this was your car,” I say.
Her nostrils flare ever so slightly, jaw hardening. If I’m not mistaken, she appears more annoyed bymethan she did withwhat’s-his-faceback there.
“Oliver, there is nothing wrong with Betty. So, you’ll do well to keep your opinions to yourself.”
I can’t contain it as the laugh bubbles from my lips. “Betty,” I wheeze out. “Who did you name your car after? Your grammy?” Her face goes slack, crestfallen, and I swallow my laugh, scrubbing my hand over my jaw.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did.”
We stare at each other for what may only be for a few seconds, but it’s enough to make me squirm. I’m such a fuckingtool. I reach out and touch her arm. Heat radiates from her; I drop my hand. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine, Oliver, I know what you think of me. Spoilt little rich girl, right?”
I don’t get the opportunity to answer as she continues, “Yes, my parents are minted. Yes, they piled me with gifts growing up, but I’d rather they had spent more time with me instead—” She stops abruptly, her eyes darting everywhere as she tries to cool her outburst. “Anyway, thanks for walking me to my car,” she says, then hurries around to the driver’s side and climbs in.
I tap my knuckle on the passenger window. She leans over and lowers it using the handle.
“For the record, I happen to thinkBettysuits her,” I say.
I have no idea why I felt compelled to say this, but when the corners of her mouth rise in a small smile, I’m glad I did. I straighten and tap the roof of her VW Beetle. The squeak of the window being wound up makes me grin.
I head back in the direction of the bar, but I can’t resist the urge to peer over my shoulder. My eyes connect with hers in her rear-view mirror as she drives away.
She’s right.
