That part about him hadn’t changed, either, apparently— he was still capable of stopping conversation with a smile and a wink.
“Are you free for lunch?” he asked, looking at Leah, oblivious to Jamie’s drooling and Michele’s unbridled jealousy. “They have a pretty decent commissary here. I thought maybe we could get caught up.”
“Caught up?” Michele echoed, and Jamie instantly elbowed her. “Ow,” Michele yelped.
Leah wanted to politely thank him and say no, that she had some errands to run, and then wish him a good day. But what came out of her mouth was, “Ah . . . ahem . . . I’m really busy today. I don’t have time for lunch.”
Michael cheated by flashing a smile that could melt a polar ice cap. And apparently two other women standing by her, because they were suddenly gazing at him as if he was the Adonis King of Stuntmen. What Leah wouldn’t give to be able to roll up Jamie’s tongue and stick it back in her mouth.
“Busy doing what?” Michael asked Leah, the look in his eyes indicating that he didn’t believe a word of it.
“Errands,” she said, nodding affirmatively, and puffed out her cheeks, looked up at the sky for a minute. “Lots and lots of errands.”
“What if I just ride along?”
“That wouldn’t be a good idea at all.”
“Why not?”
“Why not?” she repeated. Why not!? Because I don’t want to be anywhere near you in a confined area, you stupid, heartbreaking moron! Leah glanced at her sorry excuse for a car. So did Michele, Jamie, and Michael. “Because . . .” Well, obviously, to at least two of the four people standing here, she was the biggest wimp to ever walk the earth. But what exactly she was afraid of, she wasn’t certain.
Unless it was something really pathetic like falling in love with him again.
Oh nononononoo, that was definitely not going to happen. It was dumb to even think it. Like she could ever fall in love with him again. Ha! Like she could ever fall in love again. And even if she could, like she could ever get over what he did to her the first time. It was such a sad and stupid notion that—
“Hello?” Michael said, his smile going wider as he looked at her.
Michele’s gaze narrowed—she saw right through Leah. And Jamie still had that goofy look on her face as she subtly tried to make her hair look less messed up.
With a sigh of defeat, Leah pushed her hair behind her ears. “Okay, I guess I’ll . . . get caught up,” she said. “But no more than half an hour,” she added, pointing a finger at Michael. “I really have stuff to do.”
“A half hour, that’s it,” Michael said, hands up.
“Bye, Michael,” Jamie said longingly.
“Bye, Jamie,” he said with a smile.
Leah started walking toward the commissary, not even bothering to look at Michael. She didn’t have to—he was right beside her. “Thanks,” he said, as they walked out of earshot of the others. “Thanks for hearing me out.”
“I am not hearing you out,” she said firmly, and stopped so suddenly that he almost tripped over her. She looked up at his gorgeous face and groaned, put her hands to her hips. Then down. Then folded them across her middle and said, “Okay, Michael, the truth is I don’t want to relive anything, or take any excruciating trips down memory lane. As long as we’re clear on that, I’m cool.”
“Relive,” he repeated thoughtfully.
“Right. Relive,” she said, making a fanning motion with her hand. “I mean, you know, we tried it once, and it didn’t work out for whatever reason,” she said, making a fast circular motion with one hand, “and it’s just a lot of water under the bridge, and it’s probably just better that we stay friends. Well, not that we’re really friends,” she said, her hand starting to wave, “I mean, since, you know, you dumped me in a pretty spectacular way, and it was sort of a bad scene, and then, of course, we haven’t even seen each other in ages and ages, I don’t think we can pretend we’re anywhere near friends. But yeah, you know . . . civil. Right. Civil. That’s it. That’s the word I’m searching for.”
For some reason, his smile just went deeper and his eyes crinkled at the corners, and a little shiver shot down Leah’s spine. “You lost me at ‘bad scene,’” he said. “But Leah . . . it’s just lunch. At a commissary, for Chrissakes. It’s not reliving. It’s not tripping down memory lane. It’s not anything but two people catching up with time.”
“Just civil, right?” she demanded suspiciously.
He held up his right hand, Boy Scout fashion. “Just civil.”
“Okay. If you put it that way.” She looked at her watch. Then at her new aqua trail shoes, which, for some reason, made the price of $89.99 pop into her head, a price that she really couldn’t afford. He probably had tons of shoes like this in all different colors. “Okay,” she said quietly, nodding.