Dirty
Page 69Vaughan just looked at me, his face a blank mask. He was good at that. I’d seen it a couple of times now, but it was still impressive.
I on the other hand gave him my best plastic professional smile. “All good.”
A nod.
“I am clean, I promise,” I recited for the tenth time in the past few hours. “I had a test after college just to be safe. But I’ve always used protection.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“We’ve both been vigilant. This was just an anomaly.” It was embarrassing, really. How foolish I’d been, first with the wedding that wasn’t, and now with Vaughan. I frowned out at the glitter and glare of the drugstore’s neon sign. A dancing bottle of drugs waved its arms back and forth. What the ever-loving fuck? “If I hadn’t forgotten to take my pill on Sunday we wouldn’t have even had to worry about rushing to the pharmacy like this.”
“It’s fine,” he said.
“It’s good that we did this. You can’t be too careful.”
“Yeah.” He paused, shook his head. “I’m sorry, Lydia. I should have thought, I just got—”
“It’s okay. We’re both adults, Vaughan. We were both there.”
He opened his mouth like he was going to say something. But he didn’t.
I thought again about how muscle cars, tattooed men, and other wild cool things weren’t my thing. I craved stability. A sensible, settled life. The whole Chris thing had been a mistake, yes. Obviously. Next time I’d take things slower. Not get so carried away. Whatever the future brought, this temporary time of insanity was at an end. Dirty and crazy were not for me.
“I think I might test-drive a Prius tomorrow,” I said, decision made. “One of the used car dealerships has a four-year-old model for sale.”
Another nod.
We didn’t talk again until we were back at his place. Even then, it was just a quiet good night as he disappeared into his bedroom, closing the door.
Me and my annoying ovaries were shut out.
Nausea and cramping made it difficult to sleep. So I sat up and read through the settlement offer from the Delaneys’ lawyers. In fact, I read through it twice. Then, just for kicks, I read through it a third time. It took that long for the shock to die down.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Do I look like someone who wants to spend the rest of tonight crapping myself?” The cranky man shoved the antipasto platter into my hands. “I told the waiter I needed gluten free. I was very clear about it.”
“I apologize for the mistake, sir,” I said. “Let me get that fixed right away for you.”
“Thank you,” he ground out, his expression far from appreciative.
I hauled ass to the kitchen, where Boyd raised an eyebrow at me. “I need a new antipasto gluten free, please.”
He nodded and got busy. Or rather, as the only chef in the kitchen tonight, stayed busy. Nell had called in sick after vomiting all day, the poor thing. Luckily the Dive Bar was only half full tonight.
God, I hoped I didn’t come down with her virus. The morning-after pill had messed with me enough.
An almighty clatter came from the front counter. I spun around to find Masa standing there, a tray full of glasses shattered at his feet. Ice cubes, lemon slices, and straws, all spread out across the floor.
“Crap,” I muttered.
Masa just made a small sound of despair and dropped to his knees, to clean up.
I grabbed the dustpan and brush, then joined him down there.
“I’m sorry,” he said, hands moving frantically. “This won’t take a minute.”
“Slow down. You cutting yourself on broken glass won’t help anyone.”
He didn’t say anything, but he did calm down. A start.
“What? Nothing,” said the young man.
“Try again.”
He just sniffed.
“Masa, you served mint to the woman with mint allergies, got the gluten-intolerant guy’s order wrong, and told Boyd that the vegetarians at table eight wanted the chicken satay pizza instead of the margherita. And the list goes on.”
He looked at me, dark eyes swollen and red.
“You’re clearly upset and distracted,” I said. “Talk to me.”
He hung his head. “My girlfriend dumped me.”