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John said something as he put the drinks down and Beau turned quickly, his gaze zeroing in on her in a heartbeat. And for just a moment, everything else—the people, the noise, the smell of expensive perfume mixing with the astringent scent of alcohol—just disappeared. It was a fucking romance movie; the only thing missing was the surging heartfelt music.
Forcing her eyes away, she focused on her next customer and the one after that and the one after that, trying her best to ignore Beau.
The fucking love of her life.
No, she corrected. Hehad beenthe love of her life. Now, he was just a memory—a memory she wanted to scrub away with a Brillo pad, then acid wash what was left into nonexistence. But as she let the rhythm of working the bar swallow her up completely, she still felt his piercing blue eyes on her, studying her. When there was a lull in customers, she found her gaze gravitating toward him once more—as if her brain needed one more snapshot to remember him by.
"Are you all right, Vee?" Max asked, coming up beside her. He had a sheen of sweat on his brow, his black collared shirt sticking to his skin. "You look a little shaken up."
"I'm fine," she replied icily. "Tonight is crazy." She hoped the change of subject would be enough to throw him off the scent.
He poured a double shot of vodka into a glass and made up the difference with soda water. "It is. I overheard one group of women talking about this being one of their friends' divorce party."
"Is that a thing?" Evangeline pulled two beers from the fridge and removed the lids.
Max shrugged. "Apparently." To his customer, he said, "That'll be twenty."
"It seems kind of sad to be celebrating the end of a marriage, though," she replied.
He shrugged again. "Some people just don't think of marriage in the same way as our parents and grandparents did."
Without permission, her eyes darted over to where Beau was sitting. As if sensing her, he turned his head in the direction of the bar.
Shit.
She turned to her next customer, feeling self-conscious the entire time. Beau had always had that effect on her. Her skin felt too hot and too cold at the same time, and her whole body tingled whenever he looked at her. She guessed some things hadn't changed.
"Are you sure you're alright?" Max asked her again once she'd finished with her customer.
"I'm fine," she said softly. "Why do you ask?"
Max glanced over in Beau's direction. "Did that guy give you any trouble? Need me to throw him out?"
If only you knew,she thought. "No. It's fine." He rose a brow in question and she huffed. "Forget about it, Max."
She moved away from him, getting lost in the noise of the bar and the smells of spilled spirits. The next time she had a chance to breathe, she leaned back against the bar and checked her watch. It was closing in on two AM. The crowd was thinning out—the bachelor and bachelorette parties had all moved on to bigger and better things, and all that was left were the single twentysomethings and the divorced thirtysomethings. It was an interesting demographic.
She figured she might as well try to get a little bit of work done now that things had slowed down.
"I'm heading back to the office," she told Max as she passed. She cleared the bar, but something made her stop and turn her head.
7
Beau could hardly believe it.As he stood there in front of Evangeline, he wanted to throw his arms around her and tell her how happy he was to see her. Instead, all he did was wait. Her expression was unreadable, but he knew Evangeline. Heknewher like the back of his hand. She was processing everything. Right at this minute, she was processing seeing him, wondering how it was possible. She was wondering what he was doing there...
Crack!
Beau put a hand to his cheek and rubbed. "Fuck. What was that for, Vee?"
Without a word, she whirled around and stalked away. He stood there for a moment, rubbing at his cheek before finding the men's room. After inspecting the faint handprint Vee had left on his cheek, he relieved himself, then went back out to find John.
His best friend took one look at his face and lowered his drink back down to the table. "It wasn't a happy reunion then?" he drawled.
"It's still visible?" he asked.
"Yep. What the hell did you say to her?"
"Nothing," he replied, touching his cheek. "I didn't say a damn thing to her and she slapped me."
