Tequila Rose by Willow Winters (any book recommendations .TXT) 📗

same reversed. Renee knows things no one else does either. The two of them are my rocks and I try to be theirs. It’s as simple as that.

“I was supposed to have a meeting with a guy yesterday. I think you know him?” Robert’s sharp blue eyes are curious as he says the name I dread to hear, “Brody Paine.”

“Uh-huh,” I answer him, pulling away from the counter and returning to the computer. “What about him?” I ask as if it’s casual. As if there isn’t a month’s worth of dirty laundry ready to be dumped out over his head just from the mere mention of that particular name. Brody.

“Are you seeing him?” I don’t expect Robert’s question or for him to be so blunt. Neither does Renee, although she only peers up from her phone and remains silent. This counter is my defense; that phone is hers. But neither will save me from this conflict.

“Seeing him is a phrase for it … I guess.” I swallow the truth down, deep down. My plan of action is simple. Brody is told first. I tell him tonight. Then the world can know and judge.

Right now, as much as I don’t like it, Robert is grouped in with the rest of the world. Even if it does make me sick to my stomach. Lies will do that. They eat you up. At least that’s what my grandmother used to say. She knew what she was talking about.

“Tonight?” Robert asks, leaning forward to get a good look at my outfit. Rose gold heels to match my earrings, and a loose navy blouse tucked into the watercolor floral skirt.

“You guessed it,” I practically answer in a singsong cadence. As if it’s not a big deal. I’ve gone out a few times on a date here and there. It never amounts to anything. It’s a polite answer to nice guys who want to take me out. I’ve never really been interested. My hands are full as it is.

This is different, though, and the tension that lies between Robert and me as he stands there across the desk waiting for me to look back at him is evidence of that.

“How do you know him?” His tone isn’t accusatory, but the comments in my head sure as hell are.

Shrugging, I try to hide my harsh swallow. “I think his friend went to school back in Delaware.”

“That it, Mags?” he asks me and when I look up at him, there’s a hurt and uneasy expression in his eyes, and I start to question if Brody told him something. If Robert knows. I want to be the one to tell him. I can’t let him find out from the rumor mill. But just as the dam breaks inside of me, Renee pipes up.

“Why’s it matter, Rob?” Renee asks. “Were you planning on asking out your old high school flame?”

A very common sigh of frustration leaves me as she chides him. He knows that she knows about our thing. She knows he knows that she knows. And they do this shit all the time pretending like neither of them knows anything about the occasional fling Robert and I have whenever Robert behaves like anything more than an ex and landlord.

Renee’s right, he doesn’t have a right to ask any questions about my dating life when he lets the world believe we’re only friends. Yet I’m choosing to sleep with him, and deep down I know I need to be honest with him if ever I were to … have a romantic relationship that led past dessert. Same goes for him too.

“I’ll let you know if it’s anything more than that,” I answer Robert sincerely before the two of them can butt heads. “For now, it’s just dinner,” I tell him and saying those words brings a pang of heartache I don’t expect. I made a promise earlier to Renee that I’d at least wait until after appetizers to say anything about Bridget. For one, he’d have to stay to pay the bill, right? So he’d be forced to at least process it for a moment. And for two, I’m going to need to eat something in order to sit upright and speak the truth.

Robert looks like he’s going to say something, his lips parted and his brow furrowed above his questioning gaze, but he doesn’t have a chance. The bell ringing above the door interrupts him and in steps the topic of conversation himself.

Wearing khakis and a light blue polo that actually matches my skirt quite nicely, I know Brody dressed up. Brown dress shoes and all. He’s still got that blue collar feel to him with the top of his hair a bit messy and rough stubble lining his strong jaw. Thump, thump, my heart races in my chest and it’s far too hot all over the place. I can’t escape the rise in temperature.

Oh my Lord. Please. Please, help me to keep on breathing. Both of these men in this gallery suddenly makes it feel oh so small. It’s suffocating.

“Hey Magnolia,” Brody greets me with a wide and charming smile. He’s so unsuspecting when he glances at Robert, offering him a smile. I can tell he’s about to walk over to where we’re standing and strike up a conversation.

Oh, heck no. No, no, no. Rushing around the side of the counter, I practically sprint out to meet him and hook my arm around his.

“I’m all set,” I say evenly although I don’t know how. I’ve never been graceful. I’ve never been … ooh, what’s the word … calm under pressure … hmm, my grandmother used to