Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 69536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
“I found a place,” Aspen says. “Just a mile up the road.”
It’s not Mexican or American. Maggiani’s. Clearly Italian, and the lasagna won’t be nearly as good as my mom’s.
Parking, of course, is a problem, so I use the valet. What the heck? It’s all on the Wolfes anyway.
We go in, and there’s a five-minute wait for a table. We find seats on a bench, and we stay silent. We can hardly talk about what we want to talk about in the middle of a crowded entrance of the restaurant.
A few minutes later, we take a seat at our table with the menus our server provides. Gloria, her hands trembling, opens her menu.
“Have you ever been here before Gloria?” Aspen asks.
She shakes her head. “I haven’t.”
Hmm…strange. Gloria said she likes Italian food, and this place is very close to her place of employment.
The server brings water. “Can I get anything else for you to drink?”
“I’ll have a glass of Chianti,” Aspen says.
Interesting. She ordered something with alcohol. I’m not sure I’ve seen her do this.
“Just water for me,” I say.
“And you ma’am?” She nods to Gloria.
“Water for me as well.”
“Perfect. I’ll get that wine for you, and I’ll be back to take your dinner orders.”
I don’t bother looking at the menu. I already know I’m ordering lasagna.
“I think I’ll have the chicken piccata,” Aspen says.
We both look at Gloria. She stays silent, twisting her lips into a grimace.
“Are you all right, Gloria?” I ask.
“I’m fine. I just need to… Would you excuse me? I need to use the ladies’ room.”
“Of course.” I meet Aspen’s gaze, attempting to send her a message with my eyes.
Go with her.
Aspen understands immediately and stands. “You know, I need to go as well. Would you excuse us, Buck?”
“Of course.”
I can’t blame Gloria for wanting to make a quick getaway. I’d probably do the same thing if I were in her shoes. That’s why I sent Aspen after her, to keep her from leaving.
The server returns with Aspen’s wine.
“I’ll have lasagna, and one of the ladies wants the chicken piccata. The other hasn’t decided yet. They’re in the restroom.”
“Not a problem. I’ll be back in a few.” She whisks away.
I take a deep drink of my water and eye the glass of Chianti sitting in Aspen’s place.
I sure as hell could use a drink right about now.
38
ASPEN
“Gloria, please,” I say once I realize we’re the only ones in the bathroom.
“Please what?” She’s trying—and failing—to sound nonchalant.
“You’re going to leave, aren’t you?”
“No, of course not. I just have to go to the bathroom.” Her cheeks are red as she makes her way to a stall.
“I’m sorry to have presumed.”
I don’t dare go into a bathroom stall myself. If I do, she may make a run for it, and I want to make sure she goes back to the table.
Am I making this up? Perhaps, but Buck was thinking the same thing.
I don’t hear the tinkle of pee, and if she’s as nervous as I think she is, she’s most likely got stage fright anyway. She stays in the stall for about five minutes, and then I hear the toilet flush. She comes out, washes her hands, dries them.
All while I stand there.
She knows and I know why we’re both here.
“There’s no one else in here, Gloria,” I say. “You want to tell me what you know now? While it’s just the two of us?
“Aspen, I want to help you, I truly do. But I just don’t know anything.”
“We can go back to the table.” I stand between Gloria and the door to the bathroom. “You can tell both Buck and me. Or you can tell me. Here.”
I don’t want to frighten her. At one time we were pretty evenly matched. No longer. I’m in way better shape than she is. Anyone who spent five years being hunted trying to escape degenerate men is in good shape. Way better shape than any volleyball player, and Gloria doesn’t even play anymore.
She knows this. I can see it in the look in her face—in her darting eyes and quivering lips. She’s not frightened exactly, but she’s apprehensive. She doesn’t know if she can trust me anymore.
Which is fine. I don’t know that I can trust her either, and I did trust her at one time. I trusted her more than any other player on that team.
My trust may well have been misplaced.
Or maybe it wasn’t. If she’s no longer with Taylor…
“What happened with Taylor?” I ask her. “I know it may be painful for you to talk about, but I need to know. I need to know if—”
“Aspen, no! Taylor didn’t have anything to do with it!” She clasps her hands to her mouth.
So she does know what this is about, and she knows what I suspect.
Is it possible that Miss Congeniality wasn’t so congenial after all? Maybe all those prayers were for my disappearance so she could have my position on the team? I shake my head slowly.