Page 4 of At His Beck & Call

“Yeah. I have to go to the bank, and it takes like twenty minutes to walk there. Sorry.”

I don’t argue, grabbing my bag and leaving the lobby through the main doors, pulling on my jacket as I head quickly along the sidewalk. I send a quick text to Bethany that our lunch will be shorter than planned.

Thankfully, we are meeting just around the corner, but when I reach the restaurant, I frown, double-checking that I’ve got the right place from the dropped pin she sent. My chest tightens when I realize it’s correct. The awning outside is dark green, classy-looking, and it even has a valet.

Fuck, this place looks expensive.

Walking inside, I tug at my skirt. The cheap suit I’m wearing certainly doesn’t stack up to the designer outfits on display as soon as I walk through the door.

I love fashion and follow the trends and catwalks religiously. But I can’t afford anything close to the prices of the clothing. I walk past a woman wearing Blahniks and a Celine blazer, staring at her longingly. She looks like a swan gliding along a stream, and I’m a frog floundering past, barely able to keep my head above water.

I smile as Bethany waves from a booth on the opposite side of the room. She stands confidently, her statuesque figure perfect as ever. But, then again, she could wear a trash bag and make it look beautiful.

“Hey, gorgeous,” she says with a little grin. “I can’t believe you only have thirty minutes. I ordered for us. I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course!”

“I’m picking up the check, by the way,” she says, with a smile. “So stop looking so worried.”

“Oh, thank God,” I say, lowering into the booth. “I’ll pay you back.”

“Don’t be stupid. It’s my treat, and I picked this place. It’s nice though, right? I love the waiter’s uniforms; I could literallyeata man in a three-piece suit.”

“Have you done something different with your hair?” I ask. “You look amazing.”

“Thanks,” Bethany says, touching her hair. She’s wearing long diamond earrings that complement her shimmery makeup.

“Did Piechowski let you out early?” I ask, referring to Bethany’s new boss.

“Yeah. But he’s grumbling about it, as per usual. I’m not sure how much longer I’ll work for him, to be honest. He’s being kind of a douche to everybody, and I’m getting a lot of blowback.”

“I thought you loved that job.”

“I love theoffice.I could take or leave the man. He’s kind of overwhelming sometimes and keeps making these jokes about firing me as if Ineedhim or something. I’m not sure he realizes how many clients have asked to have me back since I left them. I think the count is up to five now.”

She smiles at me cheerfully, and I can’t help laughing at her.

“Anyway,” she says, sitting forward and leaning her elbows on the table. “This lunch isn’t about me. What’s up? It’s not like you to spontaneously invite me out for food. Has something happened with James? I’ll fucking kill that asshole if he’s bothering you again.”

I huff a laugh, picking up my water glass as several plates of food are delivered. There are dumplings nestled on a bed of fried cabbage, beautifully cooked filet mignon, and a tiny dish of mashed potatoes that makes my mouth instantly water.

“I got that for you,” Bethany says, moving the potatoes toward me. “You know I don’t do carbs after breakfast.”

“Thank you. Everything smells amazing.”

I spoon some of the food onto my plate eagerly, realizing how hungry I am as the scent of the steak hits my nose. I only realize Bethany is staring at me when I look up, her eyes filled with concern.

“What’s going on, Liss?” she says, her own plate empty. “You look exhausted. Did you sleep last night? You said your insomnia was getting better. Did you read that book on circadian rhythms I lent you?”

I swallow a spoonful of potatoes, just to taste the creamy buttery goodness before I have to tell my best friend the horrible news. I consider starting out slowly, beating around the bush until I have to tell her the truth, but in the end, it just pours out of my mouth.

“You know how I took Henry to the doctors because of his stomach pain?” I blurt out.

Bethany nods, finally picking up a spoon and beginning to fill her plate.

“Sure, you said they were doing some tests. Has he got IBS or something?”

“No.”