“Yeah baby?” he asked back, not lifting his head from the menu and before she could say anything, he went on. “You’ve been here, what’s good? I hope the portions aren’t crap. I could eat an entire pan of Jas’s pasta bake.”
“Layne!” she repeated but Layne felt him before he said a word and Layne looked up and to the side to see Astley standing there. His hair was dark blonde, nearly brown, only hints of gray. His eyes were hazel. He was tall, straight and slim. Layne could tell, even under his expensive suit, the man was fit. But he wasn’t fit in a bulky, powerful way. He was fit in an active, healthy way.
“Fuck me,” Layne muttered like he was surprised but he was fighting a grin.
“Charming,” Astley replied, giving Layne a look to kill then his eyes sliced to Rocky and he greeted through thinned lips, “Rocky.”
“Jarrod,” she replied, her lips weren’t thin, they were soft, her face was still pale but with her makeup, her hair, that dress, even with her skin pale, she was a freaking knockout.
“It seems we’re practically dinner partners,” he remarked, edging a bit to the side to indicate his meaning and Layne turned his head to see Merry wasn’t wrong. Rocky’s double was sitting across from them. She didn’t have the blonde streaks in her hair and her hair wasn’t as long. She was definitely younger but the poise wasn’t there and he knew that even though she was sitting. She also didn’t have Rocky’s style. He could tell she had a great body but it was just on the wrong side of too toned and her tits were fake. He knew the last because she was wearing a dress that barely covered them.
Definitely didn’t have Rocky’s style.
The minute their eyes turned her way, hers shot down to her plate.
“Perhaps you can ask the hostess to seat you at a different table?” Astley suggested and Layne looked up at him to see the man’s gaze turned his way.
Then he twisted in his seat, looked at the packed restaurant and back to Astley. “I’m not thinkin’ that’s gonna work, big guy.”
“I’m certain something will open up,” Astley pressed.
Layne looked back at Astley’s table to see his woman, or, more accurately, his girl peeking at them but she again turned her eyes away when she caught his.
He looked back at Astley. “I’m not feelin’ in the mood to wait.”
“Layne, maybe we can –” Rocky started and he cut his eyes to her and she stopped.
“Look at their table, sweetcheeks. They’ve already been served. They’ll be gone soon and we’re all adults. It’ll be all right.”
“I think both Rocky and Marissa would be more comfortable –” Astley began but Layne shoved out of his side of the booth and stood, looking down the three inches he had on Astley.
Then he said, “I think Rocky would be more comfortable if you went back to your table and let us enjoy our dinner.”
“Layne –” Rocky whispered.
“Sit down,” Astley ordered, the pompous ass dick.
“Go back to your table,” Layne returned.
“This is ridiculous!” Astley snapped. “We can hardly –”
“You might not be able to eat next to a good woman you fucked over but we’ll be fine if you sit… your ass… down at your table.”
Astley glared up at him and Layne held his glare and counted. It took four beats for Astley to give up and turn to Rocky.
“As our attorneys are both enjoying their weekends then I’ll have to inform you here that the house will not be vacant tomorrow for you to get your things. I suggest you call your lawyers and they can make arrangements for an alternate date.”
Rocky’s face got even paler and her eyes shot to Layne.
That fucking dick.
“That’s okay,” Layne stated, sitting back down. “We’ll come over while you’re there.”
Rocky’s eyes bugged out of her head.
Layne grabbed his napkin and put it on his lap.
“I’m afraid that doesn’t work for me,” Astley replied.
Layne kept his gaze steady on Rocky. “Your name on the deed?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
He looked at Astley. “Then she doesn’t need your permission to go to her own house. If it doesn’t work for you, tough. We’ll be there at ten o’clock.”
“You are not welcome in my home,” he clipped.
“Well, lucky for me, my woman half owns your home and I’m sure she’ll welcome me.” His eyes went to Rocky. “Won’t you, sweetcheeks?”
Slowly, Rocky closed her eyes.
Astley spoke and when he did it, he did it quietly, his tone had changed, something threaded through it, something that struck Layne as wrong but he couldn’t figure out what it was and Layne looked up to see he was addressing Rocky.
“You know what this is, Rocky. You know.” He shook his head and finished, “I didn’t expect this from you.”
Then he turned and walked back to his booth and while he was doing it, he stopped a waiter and said, “We’re leaving early. Bring our check to the hostess station.”
Astley pulled his girl out of the booth and Layne looked back to Rocky who had her elbow on the table, her fingers lightly touching her lips, her eyes were unfocused and pointed into the restaurant.
“Roc?” he called, her gaze shifted to him and it was troubled. He leaned forward, reaching out, he grabbed her wrist, pulling her arm down to the table to hold her hand. Then he whispered, “They’re leaving. It’ll be fine.”
“You knew,” she whispered back.
He didn’t respond.
“You knew,” she repeated. “You orchestrated this.”
Layne held her eyes and kept his mouth shut.
She looked over his shoulder and pulled her hand from his as a waiter appeared with their drinks. Layne looked to see Astley and his girl were gone.
“Have you had time to look over the menu?” the waiter asked after he set the drinks down. “I’m happy to answer any questions.”
“Give us a minute,” Layne ordered.
The waiter dipped his head, his hands pressed together in front of him like he was praying and he murmured, “Certainly.”
Fucking hell, this place was pretentious.
The waiter took off and Layne looked at Rocky.
“Roc –”