Page 28 of Unravel Me

My lips part, about to change the subject, seeing this may be a point of pain, but she interjects, her golden flecked eyes back on me as she perks up in her seat.

“My turn.” Audrey leans forward. “Why do you hate the city so much?”

“Oh, coming in for the kill, I see,” I joke, rolling the paper from my straw in between my fingers. “I grew up in the country, on a farm. I guess I don’t see the appeal of the city. It’s loud, and crowded, everyone’s rushing around. People are kind of assholes.”

Audrey’s gaze drifts, unfocused, as if her thoughts have carried her somewhere far away.

“I can’t say you’re entirely wrong. But do you like living out there alone?”

I shrug. “I have Mabel. And my mom, sister and nieces live all within a few minutes. I never feel alone.”

“It must be nice to have family nearby.” Audrey smiles, lips closed, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Hair falls over part of her face, and she pushes it back behind her ear as the waitress comes over to take our order.

Once she leaves, I continue, hoping it doesn’t feel like I'm interrogating her.

“What about your family?”

“I have one older brother, Andrew. We don’t see each other often. He’s a surgeon.” She pauses, her mouth still open, like she is unsure how much more she wants to say. “My Dad owns an investment banking firm in Manhattan, and my mom is…well, she stays quite busy.”

Her words are clipped, so I don’t push her.

“Alright, I'm done grilling you.” I feel like an ass now, but Audrey smiles up at me.

“It’s fine. I’d rather be here than spending my night unpacking my clothes.”

“So, I’m just a miniscule upgrade from unpacking?” I tease and Audrey laughs.

“Okay, that came out horrible. I am glad you invited me for this ‘thank you’ dinner.” She crinkles her nose, and it’s so damn adorable, I forget to respond for a moment.

“Well, I'd rather be here than just about anywhere else tonight.”

The lighting is dim, but I could’ve sworn she blushed.

Chapter sixteen

Audrey

Over Rhett’s shoulder, a couple takes their seats directly behind us, and immediately I recognize their faces. The guy is Jackson’s best friend, Dale, and his girlfriend, whose name was escaping me in my bout of anxiety. I’d spent so much time with them. They've been to our apartment, we’ve been on group vacations, and they’ve been at every company outing the Tippins Group has put on in the last two years. It’s been crickets from them since the breakup though, which wasn’t surprising.

Jackson Tippins was born with the scale tipped in his favor.

His friends would automatically take his side, supporting him, without so much as a second thought to me. I was just a casualty in the war. It would only be a matter of time before his friend saw me here with Rhett, though. This was a small, intimate setting, after all.

I shouldn’t care if they see me out to dinner with a new friend two weeks after my breakup. But that doesn’t stop the nerves from bubbling in my stomach.

Just in time, the waitress reappears, blocking their view of me, and sets down our food. When I glance up at Rhett, his blue eyes are studying me.

“You okay? Is the food not what you wanted?” he asks, and I swallow the lump in my throat at his kindness.

I so badly wanted this dinner to be a good idea.

We can’t get up and switch tables now. Hell, I can't even go to the bathroom without risking being seen. I hate that it even matters to me, but the thought of Jackson finding out I was already out to dinner with someone new makes my stomach twist. Not because I care what he thinks—I absolutely don’t. But I know how quickly things like this make their way back to my parents, and that’s the last thing I need. I’m still trying to piece together this new life of mine, and the idea of them weighing in, or shaming me before I’ve figured it out is something I want to avoid at all costs.

All I know is when I focus on Rhett, I feel calm. And I’m not ready for this night to end.

“This is one of my favorite meals actually,” I assure him, but my chopsticks still hover in the air over the sushi roll as Rhett leans on the table and grins that half-smile that makes me blush.

“How can I make this better?” he asks, and it’s enough to bring tears to my eyes.