Ruthie’s butt is glued to the chair. Sensing the other diners staring at her, she keeps her gaze lowered while she tentatively sips Champagne. Why did the police ask to speak with Davis? Is he in some kind of trouble? Is he coming back? How will she get home if he doesn’t?
A pair of black Gucci loafers enter her line of vision, and her eyes travel up gray flannel pant legs and a blue seersucker sport coat to Daniel’s face.
“Are you all right?” he asks, and she fakes a smile and a cheerful tone of voice. “Sure! I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Daniel looks at her as if she’s lost her mind. “Because your date was just hauled off by two police officers. Do you know where they’ve taken him?”
Her smile fades. “They said they needed to speak with him about an urgent matter. He was having trouble at his warehouse earlier. I assume it has something to do with that. Maybe it caught on fire or something.”
Daniel moves to the knee wall behind her and surveys the parking lot. “I don’t see a police cruiser. What kind of car does your boyfriend drive?”
Ruthie stands at the wall with him. “His is the black Porsche parked near the door.”
Daniel’s jaw tightens. “Right. In the handicapped spot. Does he have mobility issues?”
Ruthie’s cheeks burn. “Oops. I didn’t notice the sign when he parked.”
“It’s a pet peeve of mine.” Daniel rakes his hands through his snowy hair. “The point is, his car is still here and there’s no police cruiser in sight. Which leads me to believe they’ve taken him to the police station to discuss this urgent matter.”
Ruthie exhales a loud sigh. “Whatever. I really don’t care where they’ve taken him. Davis and I are not technically together anymore. I broke it off with him two weeks ago. I agreed to have dinner with him tonight in a moment of weakness.”
Daniel’s lips part in a soft smile. “In that case, can I offer you a ride home?”
Relief overcomes her. She longs to put this night behind her. “Is your car here?”
“Yes. In my reserved spot in the parking lot. I drove to pick up Millie earlier.”
Of course. Millie. “I hate to ask you to leave your date, but I’m desperate.”
“I don’t mind at all.” He removes his key from his pocket. “Town is only a few minutes away. I’ll be back in a flash.”
Ruthie grabs her purse and the Champagne bottle and follows him out to a shiny gray Jaguar in the parking lot.
“Did you trade in your Range Rover?” she asks, sliding into the passenger seat of the sleek new sedan.
“Millie thinks I need something sportier now that I’m retiring. I feel a bit like James Bond driving it. But it gets much better gas mileage than the Range Rover.”
Ruthie takes a pull off the Champagne bottle. “Sounds like you and Millie are serious.”
“I started dating Millie, hoping to make you jealous, but . . .” His voice trails off.
“You’ve fallen for her,” Ruthie says to the window as she stares out at the passing landscape.
“No one can replace you, Ruthie,” he says in a wistful voice.
They ride the rest of the way in silence. He parks in front of her house, but she makes no move to get out.
Turning away from the window, Ruthie says, “I sold the diner today for an amazing price. The buyer, a woman named Trixie from Texas, is not planning to change much except the name.”
“That’s wonderful news, Ruthie. Congratulations. What’s next for you?”
“I’m going to travel, like you and I always talked about.” Ruthie holds her breath. If he’s going to suggest they give their relationship another chance, this will be the moment.
But instead of offering to take a trip with her, he chuckles and says, “You were the one always talking about traveling. I’ve told you a thousand times, I have the best view of the world from my back porch.”
Ruthie never remembers hearing him say that. Is it because she refused to admit they weren’t as perfectly suited as she thought? “When I turned down your proposal, you said you’d fight for me, that you would court me with flowers and chocolates and elaborate dinners. But after that night, I heard nothing from you.”
“Because you jumped into a relationship with Davis before I had a chance.”
“I started dating Davis as a test to see if you really had changed. Can you blame me after what you did?”
Daniel ignores her question. “You turning down my proposal was a pretty clear signal you wanted nothing more to do with me.”
Ruthie huffs. “You and I weren’t even together when you asked me to marry you. Don’t you think that’s getting the cart before the horse?”
“I thought that’s what you wanted, Ruthie. Remember, nine months ago, you broke up with me because I refused to marry you? Everything was fine in our relationship until you started hearing wedding bells.”
“Correction. Until you lied and told everyone you were dying from cancer.”
“Here we go, round and round like a merry-go-round.” Daniel places his hands on the steering wheel. “I see no point in rehashing all of this now. I need to get back to my dinner guests.”
Ruthie’s phone pings in her purse with an incoming text. She removes the phone and reads the message from Davis. I’m in a little trouble, Ruthie. The police found large quantities of illegal drugs in my warehouse. I’m losing my mind. I know nothing about the drugs. One of my workers is clearly responsible. I’m sorry. I won’t be coming back. You’ll have to find a ride home.
Ruthie grits her teeth. Whatever. Davis is no longer her problem.
When she looks up from her phone, Daniel is watching her. “Is that Davis?”
“Nope. Just a spam text.” Sliding the phone back into her purse, she opens her car door. “Thanks for the ride, Daniel. I hope you and Millie have a nice life together.” She gets out and hurries inside to the safety of her pink house. The end of July can’t get here soon enough. She’s ready to be rid of this town and everyone who lives in it.
No longer in the mood to celebrate, she pours the Champagne down the drain and goes upstairs to her room where she changes into her nightgown, powers off her phone, and crawls into bed with her sleep mask covering her eyes.