She directs me down the back, and I smile when I catch Ethan's tall frame leaning on the bar.
As I approach, I see he's talking to a woman. Not unusual. When I'm not around, he gets hit on more than a crash test dummy. It comes with the territory of looking like he does. What is unusual is that I kind of recognize the woman. I wrack my brain to figure out who she is. I'm terrible with names, and if I've met her before, I really don't remember.
I'm a few yards away when she steps closer to Ethan and puts her hand on his chest. It's an intimate move. Not something an acquaintance would do, or even a friend.
Who the hell is this chick?
I stand just behind Ethan's shoulder and clear my throat. "Hey."
They both turn to me, and the woman makes no attempt to hide the head-to-toe assessment she gives me.
"Hey, there you are." Ethan pulls me into his side, and I can feel the tension emanating from him. "Cassie, this is ... uh ... Vanessa."
Vanessa? As in the-skank-who-broke-teenage-Ethan's-heart-by-sleeping-with-his-best-friend? I try not to let my shock show, even though I have a crapload of bitterness with her name on it. She was patient zero for the trust issues that kept the two of us apart for so long.
I've seen her picture, but the woman in front of me is far more glamorous than her teenage self. She's dripping in designer clothing, and her hair and makeup are so perfect, she could go right out and shoot a Dior ad campaign. Meanwhile, I've been walking around in the snow for a few hours and no doubt look like I live out of a dumpster.
I force myself to smile. "Hi, Vanessa. Nice to meet you."
"Vanessa," Ethan says. "This is Cassie Taylor." For once, he doesn't qualify my name with 'my fiancéee' or even 'my girlfriend'.
Dammit, Ethan, if there was ever a time for you to pull your macho possessive bullshit, this is it. Claim me in front of her, for God's sake.
But he doesn't, and so Vanessa gives me one of those sympathetic smiles some women get when they think their ex has traded down.
Screw her. I resist the urge to grab her perfectly coiffed head and slam it into the bar.
"Cassie, hi. So great to meet the woman who finally tamed this beast." She squeezes Ethan's bicep, and I grind my teeth so hard I think I crack the enamel. "He was just telling me you two are engaged. That's ... sweet."
She says it as if she's describing a colonic.
I clench my hand in the middle of Ethan's back and grip his sweater, because right now I'm having a moment of total clarity in which I know the precise point I'd need to punch her in the throat to drop her like the sack of shit she is.
"Dining alone, Vanessa?" I ask. "We can always see if they can fit you at our table."
Ethan tenses but doesn't say anything.
Vanessa laughs, like the concept of her being alone is ridiculous. I grip Ethan tighter.
"No, not alone," she says with a condescending smile. "Just came in for a drink before heading off to a party. But I should let you two lovebirds go. I'm sure you have to discuss cakes and flowers, and whatever else engaged people talk about."
She leans forward and kisses Ethan on the cheek. "So great to see you, Bear. It's been too long."
Bear? Gross. I know I'm going to ask Ethan about that, even though I'm certain I'm not going to like the answer.
She pulls a card out of her purse and hands it to him. "Give me a call if you ever want to reminisce. I work downtown."
Ethan takes the card without looking at it. "Thanks. Hope you have a good Christmas."
She raises a perfectly sculptured eyebrow. "You know I will."
Right on cue, the hostess comes to tell us our table is ready.
We only take a few steps before Ethan stops and turns back to Vanessa. "Don't suppose you've kept up with Matt over the years, have you?"
Matt was his best friend in high school. From what I understand, they haven't spoken since Ethan broke Matt's jaw the day after he found him and Vanessa in bed together. One more suitcase of crap in Ethan's collection of emotional baggage.
Vanessa shrugs. "I haven't seen him for years. But we're Facebook friends. He's married. Has twin girls. Seems pretty happy."
A shadow passes over Ethan's face. "Good. That's ... good. Do you have a number for him?"
"Sure. Call me sometime, and I'll give it to you."
Ethan nods, and we head over to our table. For a long time, we sit there, each pretending to read our menus. The quiet is deafening.
"You okay?" I ask.
He looks up, and for a second he looks exactly as he used to in drama school: guarded, defenses up. Then he smiles and shakes his head. "Yeah. Sorry. That was just ... weird." He looks back down at the menu. "Unexpected and weird. She took me by surprise."
"Do you want to tell me about 'Bear'?"
He swallows but doesn't look up. "Uh ... yeah. Sure. That's what Vanessa used to call me after she'd been ... teasing me"."
"Teasing? As in—?"