as if he could hurt a fly.
But I know better than that. There is no specific look for the criminal. If only they boasted fangs and bulging eyes.
Trevor drags a hand over his face, and as I watch him, I’m really starting to freak out. Just what is this madman going to do? I envision the broadcast on the eleven o’clock news. Local prosecutor gunned down in revenge killing.
There is relief on Trevor’s face when he spots the waitress. Without waiting a second, he marches toward her. As he does so, I slowly stand. I don’t know if this matters to killers, but I’m guessing that no sudden movement is a good plan of action.
The seconds that pass seem like hours. I want to take off, but I can’t just leave Trevor. If the situation were reversed, I wouldn’t want him leaving me.
When Trevor returns to me, I’m ready to hustle. We start for the door, heading to safety. But God help us, it’s too late. The madman jumps to his feet as we near his table. My entire body freezes as I’m seized with fright.
I do the first thing I can think of—take cover behind Trevor. What can I say? He’s not my man. I’m not ready to die for him.
“Trevor,” the white man says.
“Not now,” Trevor replies, moving past the other man.
The guy grabs Trevor’s arm, stopping him. “Look, I know what I said. But I’ve had time to think—”
“I said not now,” Trevor hisses.
Trevor starts walking again, and I’m right beside him.
“Please don’t walk away from me.”
Those words make me halt. The guy almost sounds…I shake my head, dismissing the thought. Clearly, this man is not some deranged criminal. He obviously knows Trevor, but I have no clue how.
Trevor breezes into the lobby. The white man follows him. I lag behind a little, observing this confusing situation.
The man reaches for Trevor’s hand. Trevor hesitates a moment before yanking his hand away.
Whoa, wait a minute. Did that just happen?
Oh, shit. Shit!
“We’ll talk later, Brian,” Trevor says.
“When?” Brian demands. “You’ve already been avoiding me.”
Trevor meets my eyes, and I can tell he’s mortified that I’m witnessing this. Brian looks at me, too. But it’s not so much a look as it is a leer, the kind another woman gives you when she’s possessive over her man.
I snort my disgust and make my way around them.
“Lishelle, wait,” Trevor says.
“I don’t think so,” I reply.
And then I all but run out of the restaurant.
By the time I get to Claudia’s place, I’m exhausted. Winded, like I’ve run a friggin’ marathon. My heart hasn’t stopped beating since I hightailed it out of the restaurant.
I’m about to knock on her door, but it opens before I can. Although Claudia shares a place in Buckhead with Adam, she’s living with her parents until her wedding. (Don’t ask why. Something about appearances.) She has her own apartment within their mammoth house, where she used to live before things got serious with Adam. Thank God that apartment has a separate entrance. I don’t want anyone else witnessing me in my frazzled state.
Claudia swings the door open and eyes me with concern. “Sweetie, what is it?”
I feel a little foolish for having called her in such a panic, but damn, I needed someone to talk to after what happened.
I walk past her into the house. “Do me a favor. If you ever hear me say that I’m going on another date, shoot me.”
“That bad?”
I drop my clutch onto the hall table. “Fuck, yeah.”
The reality of tonight hits me anew and I want to scream. Instead, I growl a little and move farther into the house. I stop short when I see Annelise sitting on the couch. “Oh. Hi.”
“Annelise was here when you called,” Claudia explains. “She decided to stay, figuring you might need both of us.”
Despite my shaky nerves, my spirits lift a little. These two women ground me. I love them to death, and I know that they love me. They’d drop everything for me if I needed them to.
“I appreciate it,” I say.
Annelise makes her way toward me and snakes an arm around my waist. “What happened?”
“Let’s just say, I thought my date was going to make the eleven o’clock news.”
“Whoa.” This from Claudia. “Why?”
We all sit on the sofa and I spend the next few minutes telling them everything, and by the time I’m done, Annelise is snickering and Claudia is roaring with laughter.
“It’s not funny,” I tell them. “You don’t know how afraid I was.”
“Oh, shit.” Claudia’s eyes are tearing. “Too much drama for me.”
“For you? I’m the one who was caught in the middle of this guy’s sexual identity drama. Hell, the brother didn’t even know if he was straight or not. I should have known. He was much too pretty. And the Kenneth Cole shoes. They should have been a dead giveaway.”
“God, how scary,” Annelise says. “Dating a guy who goes both ways.” She shudders.
“Thank God I didn’t sleep with him.” Now I shudder. “This had to be a sign. Obviously, I’m supposed to stop dating.”
“Don’t say that,” Annelise tells me. “There’s a great guy out there for you. I know you’ll find him.”
“Ha!” Both Claudia and Annelise shoot me looks of concern. “Don’t look at me like that. You both don’t know what it’s like. You have men. Trying to find the right one—my God, it’s so hard.”
“I know,” Annelise says. “But you can’t give up.”
“Why not? Dating these days is like Russian roulette. I think I’d rather put a gun to my head and be done with it.”
“I think you need a glass of wine.” Annelise dashes off in the direction of the kitchen.
“Make it a scotch, honey.”
With Annelise out of view, I turn to Claudia. I’m feeling much better and want to think about something positive. “So. Saturday night? You sure you’ve made a decision about the dresses this time?”
“No, but I can’t straddle the fence much longer. The wedding is only five weeks away.”
“For what it’s worth, I love the pastel mauve fabric you showed me. I think it’s much better than the yellow.”
“Really?” Claudia’s eyes light up.
“Of course. I look better in the mauve.”
Now her smile fizzles. She absolutely hates the idea that if she commits to one color, it will be the wrong one.
I reach for her hand and squeeze it. “Relax. The mauve is the right color. It’ll look great on everyone.”
“You’re sure?”
God, she is such a typical Gemini. Unable to make a decision. I still can’t believe she planned a wedding for two days after her thirtieth birthday. But according to her, it’s the best way to celebrate this milestone.
“Yes, I’m sure,” I tell her. I don’t bother to mention that I liked the first color as much, or that will send her world into a tizzy.
“What