“If we decide to keep that title.”
“I’m thrilled about it. But—” she slid the salt and pepper cellars closer together “—you may not want to give it to me after we’ve had a chance to talk.”
Raising a hand to stall her, he focused on the waitress who was coming to take their order.
When they were alone again, he removed his coat and scooted his chair closer. “Before you make any decisions, I have a few things I’d like to make clear.” His gaze locked with hers, and he continued more stridently, “I believe in you and your talent, and I am thoroughly convinced that, on a professional level, we can recover from the past six months. On a personal level, I want you to know that I love you and I’m sorry for what I did. Sincerely.”
She took another sip of her tea, more uncomfortable than reassured. “It’s okay. I forgive you.”
His voice took on fresh hope. “You do?”
“I do, but—” she cradled her cup so she wouldn’t wring her hands “—that doesn’t mean we’ll be able to get back together, Derrick. I’m afraid what we had is over. My feelings have changed.”
He gaped at her for several seconds before recovering enough to respond. “It’s too soon to decide that. Let’s give it some time. Can we give it some time?”
She shook her head. “That would be pointless.”
He stared at the floor. “Is it that man you were with in Whiskey Creek—Kyle Houseman?” he asked when he looked up. “Is he the reason?”
“He’s part of it,” she said. “What happened between Kyle and me was...” She shook her head as she searched for the words to describe their attraction, their feelings for each other.
“It was unlike anything I’ve experienced.”
“Meaning with me.”
“With anyone.”
“I see.” He sat back as the waitress brought him his coffee. Then he lowered his voice. “Were you communicating with him before you went out there, like I read in all those blogs and...and articles? Is that why you chose Whiskey Creek?”
She felt her jaw drop. “No, I only said that to save face.”
“I’m not sure I can believe you, seeing that so much has changed.”
“Are you kidding?” she said “You were supposed to go to Whiskey Creek with me, remember? You’re the one who decided to stay here.”
“But you were living with him.”
“By accident. If you’d been with me, that never would’ve happened. When there was no heat at the farmhouse, we would’ve gone to a B and B.”
“I only stayed here because I had too much business to leave, Lourdes. Otherwise, I would’ve come.”
“I’m not complaining,” she said. “I’m merely letting you know that I didn’t plan what happened. It was just...one of those things.”
He sighed and raked his fingers through his dark hair as if there were so many emotions going through him, he didn’t know whether to hit something, yell or...maybe even cry. “When you came home so quickly, I thought...I thought I still had a chance. Or was it the promise of ‘Crossroads’? Is that the only reason you’re here? For the song?”
He’d offered her that song as an enticement, so it hardly seemed fair that he was angry with her for being enticed. “For the song—and my career.”
He’d just taken a sip of his coffee. But at this, he set his cup down. “You’re serious. It’s over.”
“Yes. I’m afraid so.”
“After three weeks.”
She nodded.
He took his phone off the table and put it in his pocket. Then he stood up as if he’d learned everything he needed to know.
“You’re leaving?” she said.
“What else am I supposed to do?” He grabbed his coat. “You just told me you’re in love with someone else.”
“We haven’t talked about our professional interests.”
“What professional interests? You fired me, remember?”
“I’ve reconsidered. I’d be interested in having you continue as my manager.”