Page 30 of Rumours and Romance
I stand up and go to the kitchen, pulling out the bottle of tequila that I brought back from Mexico two years ago. It was my first vacation with Stefani after we had moved in together. I could dump the shit down the drain and smash the bottle, but why waste good liquor. I pop the bottle open, pour a shot and slam it down, wincing as it burns my throat. But I don’t stop, drinking another shot, and then another.
Now the room is swimming. Maybe three shots was too many after the double whiskeys earlier. But I feel numb. Numb is good.
Somehow, I make my way into my bedroom, and manage to remove my shirt and pants before I fall down onto my bed face first.
The last thought that crosses my mind before the tequila-soaked oblivion takes over is clear.
I’m better off alone. That way, no one else can hurt me.
Chapter 13
Mila
I looked up ghosted in an online urban dictionary last night. It might as well have had a picture of Jackson underneath the definition.
After two weeks of being together every damn day and night, and having sex on every surface in both of our houses, he has disappeared.
He hasn’t been in to the bakery the last two mornings. Two days without a muffin, not even the disgusting geriatric bran that he prefers. I’m worried. That’s okay, right? Friends can worry about each other. I’m not being too clingy by wanting to see him, or by wondering what the heck is going on. But every time I picked up my phone to type out a message, I stop myself. This isn’t a real relationship, which means I don’t really have any right to him or his time. Except, I do in a way. Yesterday Paige asked if Jackson would be coming to Summer’s barbecue at the resort next week and I didn’t know how to answer her. Then, just this afternoon, I ran into Sharon Morton at the grocery store, and she mentioned how much she was looking forward to having Jackson and I over for dinner, and was there a night that worked best for my schedule? Again, I was left clueless on how to answer.
When I leave the store, I go to my Jeep and open my phone. Time to end the radio silence.
MILA: Hey, are you okay? Haven’t seen you around lately. Also, what’s the deal with dinner at the Mortons? Let me know if you need your pretend girlfriend, or whatever.
I hit send before I can overthink my message, even though re-reading it kind of makes me cringe. Or whatever? What the heck does that even mean? Good job, Mila. Way to communicate clearly.
I wait for a few minutes, staring at my phone, willing it to vibrate with a response. When it doesn’t, I decide to throw caution to the wind and go find the man in question. Nothing like a little confrontation to help things along.
I drive to the vet clinic, without any sort of plan for how to explain my presence there. Then again, if I’m “dating” the vet, why do I need an excuse to visit him? Firm in my resolve, I pull open the door to the clinic. I smile at Lenora Wong, who’s sitting in the waiting room. She always orders cranberry orange scones for her Saturday brunch club.
I walk up to the front desk and am about to ask Rosie if Jackson is in when Veronica pushes through the door to the back. As soon as she sees me, her hand goes to her hip and she sneers at me.
Bad idea, bitch. Today is not the day to pick a fight with me. I ignore her, and focus on Rosie, behind the front desk.
“Hi, Rosie. Can I talk to —”
“This is a professional establishment, Mila. We don’t need you coming in here acting all inappropriate again.” Her nasally voice interrupts me. I’m pretty sure that if my eyebrows went any higher, they would be on top of my head.
“Gee, Veronica, thanks for that reminder. I would hate to be unprofessional and, you know, visit my boyfriend at work.” She doesn’t miss the emphasis I put on the word boyfriend, if the narrowing of her eyes is any indication. Instead, she pushes past me, and pastes on a large smile to take Mrs. Wong and her cat into the examination room.
“Bitch,” I mutter under my breath, but clearly I’m not quiet enough because I hear a soft giggle and realize Rosie heard me. “Sorry, Rosie, that was rude. Is Jackson here?”
The older woman waves me off and shakes her head. “Oh, don’t worry, Veronica needed to be cut down a peg or two. The way she went after Jackson before the two of you were together was shameful. But he isn’t here today, dear. He switched with Doctor Morton, and has the day off.” She frowns in confusion. “I’m surprised he didn’t tell you.”
I scramble to come up with a believable lie. Fuck, I hate this. “Oh, you’re right, how silly of me. I completely forgot. He must be down at the beach. Thanks, Rosie!” I turn and hurry out of the clinic, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Goddamnit, Jackson Holt, where are you and what the hell is going on?
I decide to head home and drop off my groceries before going to find him anywhere else. On my way home, I drive past his house and see his car is missing. Yeah, he must be at the beach. He told me once that the water is his happy place. If he’s upset about something, that’s where he’ll be. And no, I’m not going to dwell on the fact that I know him well enough to know this.
Groceries unloaded, I grab Milo’s leash and we get back in the Jeep. Since I have to go past the bakery, I decide to stop in and pick up some goodies. Maybe I can get him to open up about what’s going on with food.
Riley and her husband Dean are inside when I get to The Nutty Muffin, and she waves me over with a smile.
“Hey, guys.” I lead Milo over and sit down next to Riley’s wheelchair. She reaches down and pets Milo, who has rested his head in her lap, while Dean gives me a concerned frown.
“Is Jackson feeling better?”
“Umm, yes?” It comes out sounding more like a question than a statement, but as is very apparent today, I have no idea what’s going on with my alleged boyfriend.
“That’s good. He seemed pretty upset the other night when he came into Hastings. Never saw a guy pound two double whiskeys so fast.”
