“I’m not sure if I’ve ever been on an actual date. Certainly nothing like this,” she said admiring the room. The dining room was a wash of white walls and tall windows. The fireplace that warmed Gia’s back was clad in a rustic, local stone. Aged oak floors washed in a light gray carried from the foyer all the way through to the patio doors facing the lake.
Candle flames flickered on every table.
“Then your previous partners were sadly lacking,” Beckett told her.
“You may be right,” she agreed.
When he looked at her, Gia felt like he was looking into her. Probing every dark corner for secrets. There was so much behind those smoldering eyes.
“What?” she asked, when his face turned serious.
“You deserve better.”
“That’s why I’m here,” she said lightly.
The waiter returned with their wine and recited the night’s specials. After an internal debate about which entrée would be most conducive to their after-dinner plans, Gia selected the corn chowder and grilled salmon. Beckett went with red meat.
They sipped and chatted, flirted and teased. Both enjoying the simple traditions of the time-honored date.
28
It wasn’t until Beckett fed her a tender forkful of his steak that Gia noticed the bitter attention of another patron. The woman was tall and impeccably dressed in a fitted black sheath dress. Her dark hair was pulled back in a chic chignon. And her heavily made-up eyes were shooting poisoned darts at Gia.
She was certain she’d never seen the woman before in her life and did her best to ignore the weight of her gaze. But when Beckett reached across their little table to brush a curl back behind her ear, the woman tossed her napkin down on her plate and looked like she was about to spit flames hot enough to incinerate her dinner date.
The woman obviously had something to say, so Gia decided to give her an opportunity. She excused herself and went to the restroom, making sure to walk past the stranger’s table. She was checking her teeth for food when the door opened swiftly enough to create a brisk breeze.
“Hello,” Gia greeted her.
The woman stormed in on truly beautiful stilettos that put her a good six inches taller than Gia. She stopped two sinks down and crossed her arms. Everything about her was angry.
“So you’re my replacement?” she finally said. Her tone told Gia the woman wasn’t impressed with what she saw. “You look like the rest of those idiot hippies in that pathetic town.”
Gia decided it best to remain silent and waited.
She withstood the woman’s head to toe review and derisive sniff. “You’re certainly not Beckett’s type. How does it feel to be a rebound?”
“A rebound?” Gia pretended to ponder. “Well, to be honest, if that’s what I am, it feels really, really good.”
The woman uncrossed her arms and clenched her fists at her sides. A diamond tennis bracelet glittered on one wrist. A cloud of Chanel No. Five tickled Gia’s nose.
“He’ll come to his senses sooner or later and drop you back in whatever gutter he found you. He needs someone with sophistication and style. Not some frizzy haired child who makes her own goat milk soap.”
Whoever this woman was, she had definitely spent some time in Blue Moon, Gia thought.
“I’m assuming you two used to date?”
“Used to date? I’m Trudy,” she said her own name as if Gia should have it tattooed on her body somewhere. “We were practically engaged. We understood each other,” the woman purred, crossing her arms again and drumming her garnet fingernails on her own skin.
Gia decided to give her a win. “Oh, Trudy, of course!”
“And we’ll be back together just as soon as he gets you and your silly little town out of his system.”
Gia debated the threat level and decided it was relatively low. She slid up on the vanity and let her legs dangle. The woman, who had clearly never slouched a day in her life, sneered at Gia’s informality.
“It sounds like you two were really serious,” Gia prompted.
“We were … are,” she corrected herself. “It was just a tiny misunderstanding.”
“Misunderstandings happen all the time.”
“There was no reason for him to call that bumbling sheriff.”
Oh boy.
“He must have just panicked,” Gia said sympathetically.
“It was only a small fire. I don’t know what the big deal was.” The brunette shrugged her courtesy-of-a-personal-trainer shoulders.
“Men have a tendency to overreact, don’t they?”
“They certainly do. Take my date for instance,” she said, turning her attention to her reflection. “He insisted that I was blowing this out of proportion. But I know that Beckett knew I’d be here and he brought you here just to rub you in my face.”
“What’s your date like?” Gia asked, changing the subject.
The fingernails tapped faster. “Thomas? He’s …” She trailed off searching for words.
“He’s very good-looking,” Gia supplied, not sure if it was true, as she hadn’t actually seen his face.
“Yes,” Trudy nodded. “And he doesn’t come from some bucolic hellhole that smells like patchouli.”
“Well that’s definitely a point in his favor,” Gia decided.