The Secret He Keeps Page 8

  “Poor girl.”

  “Poor girl? That’s all Dane seems to date.”

  “Is he still hot?”

  “I wouldn’t know. I don’t ever look at him like that. He’s my business partner, Cee.” Rachel lied. She actually found Dane very attractive. She didn’t know why he always seemed to date beneath him. Maybe he feared the intellectual types would desire a real commitment outside of meeting for drinks at a bar every Friday night.

  “Sure you don’t think he’s hot.”

  “Okay, anyway.” Rachel wanted to get off that subject. “I kind of, sort of, have a date for tomorrow night.”

  “No freaking way.”

  “Freaking way.”

  “Who with? The busboy at Peggy’s, the cashier at the grocery store, or the man on the television that I’ve told you repeatedly doesn’t hear your commentary on movies?”

  “I honestly don’t know why I tell you I don’t have a social life. I need to start lying to you like I do Mom.”

  “She’s not that dumb, either, Rach.”

  “Well, it works for now.”

  “So? Who is it?”

  “He sort of helped turn my electricity on. You know, after the storm hit this past week.”

  “An electrician?” Her tone seemed skeptical. She was probably imagining the international figure as she did—beer belly, rough hands, and spitting to the ground every other second.

  “I guess he is. I mean he fixed the lights here, and everything else electrical magically turned back on. But besides that, he’s so flippin’ cute.”

  “Send a picture.”

  “Like I’m able. I didn’t exactly take out my phone and demand a picture to send to my best friend, you dope. I don’t even know if I’m going.”

  “Rach, come on. I think this is the best news ever.”

  “But what about—”

  “It’s time, Rachel Miller. Go out and have a great time. Be loose and wild.”

  “Okay, no fear there. I’ll probably be home by eight.”

  “Whatever. It’s baby steps.”

  Rachel got off the phone and began to bite her nails. She didn’t know the first thing about how to act around a strange guy. What if he had weird habits? Like maybe he farted out loud and laughed maniacally, forcing her to laugh, too. Or maybe he whistled when he lied. Which wouldn’t entirely be a bad thing. She was so used to her husband’s habits, and frankly he did nothing that she would deem as weird. And how would he feel about this? She tapped her foot so rapidly, Gus raised his head to see what the commotion was.

  ***

  “So, did you do it?” asked Rick.

  John pulled into his driveway and shut off his truck. Why did he listen to his friend and ask out Rachel? Yes, he was totally turned on by her looks, her helplessness, and her gentle kindness, but he was still hung up on Kelly. The no-good-for-him cheater. No, he hadn’t called and forgiven her yet. He was such a pagan.

  “Yes, for your information, I did.”

  “How did it go?”

  “It went like any other time I’ve ever asked out a girl. Fine.” John wasn’t being cocky; he was just picky on who he asked out, and therefore it wasn’t a long list. Bar girls excluded.

  “It’s just like I told you. You need a nice girl to remind you what nice girls are like. Kelly is bad news.”

  Rick was so eager to get Kelly off John’s radar, he was willing to put Rachel in the line of fire for a rebound. That was the biggest hesitation John had about asking out Rachel. She was a nice girl. She couldn’t be used to get over someone else. It wasn’t right. Maybe he’d call and cancel. She was in therapy, for God’s sake. This could throw her off the cliff.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea, man. Rachel has enough to deal with.”

  “Man, she’s just like you. And I saw the way she looked at you in the diner. She was totally into you. You can both get over your problems and lean on each other for support.”

  “I don’t know, man.”

  “I do, and that’s all you need to know.”

  Rick was married and had two kids. Like he was experiencing any of this crap in his life. The last thing John wanted was to upset Rachel. Who knows—maybe just realizing this was a good sign. He knew somewhere hidden underneath all the Kevlar surrounding his heart, there was still some tenderness. And didn’t misery love company? Maybe they’d have a good time despite all the baggage both of them were going to take to dinner the next night. Stranger things had happened.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Show Time

  Rachel scoured her closet for something to wear. She’d spent the whole day pacing the house, washing laundry, and picking up her phone, ready to call John and cancel. Each time, she pictured his eyes in her mind—those eyes she’d hate to let down. Because at the end of the day, the last thing she was was rude. She resolved to go out, enjoy some type of vegetable for a change, and return home. She tried not to think of the weird scene on the front porch when he returned her home. Maybe she’d just tell him good-night in the car. She wasn’t ready for feeling anyone’s strange lips on hers. But while she was seeing his eyes, she could also see those lips. And from what she remembered, they looked a little delicious.

  She settled on a black skirt and black blouse. The mirror couldn’t hide the fact that she either looked like a widow in mourning or the waitstaff at wherever they would grab a bite to eat. The first image conjured up the day of Scott’s funeral. She remembered it was cold. The ground was still frozen and they weren’t able to dig a hole for the casket. The snow had begun to fall while they were in the church. Pastor Getty droned on about passing from one place to the other, and one day everyone would be reunited. Frankly, one day was too far away for Rachel. Luckily she was medicated with sedatives, or she might’ve shouted out how she felt, and what a liar Pastor Getty was. No one could rejoice being left behind. Selfish or not, it was how she felt.

  Dane sat beside her during the service. He was stoic, not showing any emotion, really. Her mother held her hand and continually stroked it while crying quietly into wadded tissues she kept in her purse. Rachel watched the casket, as if someone were going to jump from it like a jack-in-the-box. Never did she think this day would ever come. That she would be without Scott. She wondered what he looked like in that box. Was his hair curly or did someone comb it straight? She didn’t dare go to family night, where everyone gawked at the poor guy lying defenseless in the silk-lined box. Instead, Dane kept her company at her house. She sat motionless on the sofa, without any noise in the room. Much like now, but movies kept her company these days.

  “Gus, does this make me look sad?” she asked her dog, who watched her and pounded his tail on the ground.

  “I am, sort of. I feel guilty that I’m going out. Do you think I’m guilty?”

  The poor dog licked his lips as though she were offering a cheese snack.

  She jumped when she heard the doorbell. Gus did, too. He ran, barking, in the direction of the unfamiliar noise. Rachel grabbed her chest in hopes of maintaining a steady heartbeat and walked calmly to the door. Thoughts of breathing into a paper bag kept coming to her mind.

  She opened the door and suddenly her heart flip-flopped. OMG. John looked amazing. Sports coat, button-down shirt, and a smile that would make nuns do double time in the confession chamber for impure thoughts. Suddenly she looked down at her choice of outfit, and felt like the dark rain cloud that showed up on the day of the parade.

  “Hey. You’re right on time.”

  ***

  Now that he saw her dressed up, John couldn’t believe she agreed to go out on a date with him. And he couldn’t believe he’d been the one to initiate it. But thoughts of future years dating only girls strapped to a barstool was beginning to not look so good. Especially when the last girl he took home still had an infection from a tattoo she’d gotten out of the backseat of someone’s car. She was so proud of how the butterfly’s wings looked iridescent. To him, it looked like a couple more days of a
new antibiotic.

  “I try to always be punctual.”

  He tried not to stare at how beautiful she was. Her long hair that’d only been pulled back or on the side now lay on her shoulders, shining. The skirt she wore hugged her body in all the right places. He thought it a shame to have to drape a coat over her.

  “Let me help you.” He held it for her arm to smooth inside.

  He got a whiff of her perfume, and closed his eyes to drink it in. He missed the way women smelled. Minus cigarette smoke and stale liquor. He had to come to grips with the fact that not every respectable girl out in the world was like Kelly. And he figured Rachel certainly wasn’t.

  “I made reservations at J. Alexanders. Have you been there?”

  She took a deep breath. “Yes, I’ve been there.”

  “I hope you’re hungry.” He smiled and escorted her down the walk to his truck. She seemed surprised by his choice in vehicles.

  She climbed up and sat down, a fish-out-of-water expression on her face. He knew she wasn’t probably used to guys who drove trucks. What was he thinking? Her husband probably drove a Mercedes. Surprisingly, Kelly liked his truck. She always sat as close as she could to him when they started dating.

  They drove to the restaurant with little more to say than how the weather seemed to be getting colder. He was happy to get to the restaurant, around other people. Maybe he could think of more conversation to come up with.

  They ordered their food and Rachel sat, twirling her wedding band. John tried not to pay attention. So far the date was pretty straightforward. He liked the kindness she offered everyone who’d helped them thus far. The valet smiled graciously at her as she told him she liked his hair style. The hostess complimented her on her outfit and he thought he saw her blush as much as when he told her in the truck. And the waiter seemed to be flirting with her when he took her order. She seemed oblivious of it.

  “So, you’re recovered from the accident, I guess.”

  She stopped twirling her ring and grabbed for her iced water. “Yes. Like brand new.” She took a sip. “It was a killer headache for the first twenty-four hours, though.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “John, I have a question.”

  “Shoot.” He couldn’t believe he just said shoot.

  “I know you’re not blind to my ring, so why exactly did you ask me out? Unless that is, you don’t care if women are married or not.”

  He chuckled. “On the contrary. I recently ended my engagement over cheating. I’m definitely not into cheating.”

  The statement seemed to strike a nerve with her. As if she knew of someone else who cheated and completely agreed. She erected her posture and rubbed the back of her neck.

  “Peggy, at the diner that day I saw you—she told me about what happened.”

  Rachel sighed. “Leave it to this small town. Where everyone knows everyone and what they ate for dinner the night before.”

  “Oh, don’t be irritated. Peggy seems to really care about you. It wasn’t like she was gossiping.”

  “So what did she tell you?”

  “Just that your husband had died in a car crash.” He wasn’t about to mention the other details—like the therapy and other accidents Rachel seemed to be walking into every now and then.

  She looked down and fiddled with her hands on her lap. “Well, that’s actually a relief.”

  They both moved their water glasses for the waiter to set down their salads. Rachel ordered hers with the dressing on the side.

  “I have to admit this is a little out of the ordinary for me. It’s actually the first time I’ve gone out since it happened.”

  “Well, I’m honored all the more then.” He smiled and picked up his fork, ready to dive into the spinach salad on his chilled plate.

  The little purple leaves were a bit tangy and he didn’t much care for them. He began placing them on the edge of his plate and looked up to see Rachel staring at him.

  “You know, this kind of is the first time for me to go out on a real date since I broke up with my girlfriend.”

  “Wow, I guess this is pretty nerve-racking for the both of us, then.” She took a sip of water and put it back on the table. “I was hoping I wasn’t the only one with a bit of anxiety.”

  “No, I feel ya. No offense, but I thought about canceling.” He reached over and touched her hand. “Not that I would’ve, or really wanted to, but I’m just sort of in between thinking what a slut my girlfriend was, and kind of wanting to forgive her and hope like a stupid jackass that it wouldn’t happen again. My friend Rick said good luck with that. I’m pretty certain he’s laying his bets on that she’s just a cheater and always will be.”

  Rachel put down her fork and stared at him.

  Something was going through her pretty little mind; he just knew it. Gosh, it would be so easy to just get wrapped into this girl. That was, if he could be sure he was completely unwrapped from Kelly.

  “If you have any reservations, you have to explore them. I know you said she cheated, but have you ever asked her why?”

  “Is there ever an answer that takes a cheater off the hook?” he asked.

  “No, I suppose not. But, maybe it was something she was going through. Maybe for the life of her, it would never happen again. You know, like it was a fluke, or something.”

  “Hmm…that’s something, I suppose, to think about. All I knew is that I wasn’t going to marry someone who disregarded my feelings that easily to go and be unfaithful.”

  “I know.” She grabbed for her goblet and took another drink. “Cheating is serious. So you better go with your gut on this one.”

  The truth was he never talked to Kelly after he found out. There was nothing he needed or wanted to hear. She was unfaithful, and in the eyes of his mom’s and dad’s marriage, there was no room for liars in a marriage. Still, he missed her and found himself thinking of her now. Even with this gorgeous, sophisticated woman sitting across from him. Maybe he needed to return her call before he planned to move on. It wouldn’t hurt.

  ***

  Rachel looked at the clock on John’s display in the truck. He was giving it some time to heat up before driving off. She was busy rubbing her legs together underneath her coat in order not to freeze. She was proud of herself. She’d made it through her first date. John was nothing short of a complete gentleman. He asked her whether she wanted dessert and even offered to split something with her. They went hafsies and shared an apple crisp with ice cream dessert. If she were alone at home, she would’ve gobbled it down whole and cut a second piece to chase down the first.

  “Would you like to go for a drink somewhere?” He put the truck into gear.

  “Yeah.” She released a pent-up surge of air and felt as if she answered too quickly. But she had craved liquor since that morning. She only held off because she didn’t want to seem like a lush when he came and picked her up. And the wine at J. Alexanders would’ve driven the price of the meal up. And as much as she loved her house and all the security it afforded her, she didn’t want to go home to the isolation of it right now.

  “Okay.” He seemed surprised. “How about Carney’s on Deacon Road?”

  “Um, I’ve never been there. How about Grayson’s, off Route 87? I like it there.”

  “I’ve heard of it. Okay, let’s go.”

  They set off to Grayson’s. Rachel, in hindsight, wished she’d never suggested it. She, Scott, and Dane would meet up there sometimes on Friday nights. Especially after a long week. Scott seemed to be following her all night. She couldn’t help but compare everything John did with how Scott would’ve done it differently. He certainly would’ve laughed to have seen her in this truck. She was sure her skirt had split higher in the back when she crawled up into it.

  The parking lot was crowded. The fact so many people would be inside judging her made her intensity for alcohol increase. John came around to her side of the truck and helped her out. She let go of his hand as if she were releasing something
hot. She hoped he wasn’t hurt by her lack of dating etiquette. This was her first time out in the real world. She was still in shock she wasn’t home, under five blankets, watching a new episode of whatever the People magazine raved was not worth missing.

  There was only one empty seat at the bar, so John offered it to Rachel and stood beside her until the guy next to her left with his party. There were two bartenders working that night. One was a short girl with long, brown hair. She used her cute smile and cleavage to get most of her tips. The other one was a guy, wearing a lip ring. It didn’t match his short haircut and clean-shaven face.

  “What can I get you two?” He leaned in to hear and set down two napkins in front of them.

  John looked at Rachel first. She didn’t want to seem as though she knew her drink by heart, so she looked up in the air to give the illusion she was thinking about it. “I guess I’ll have a Cape Cod—easy on the cranberry juice, heavy on the vodka.”

  John’s eyes rose with the special request she had. “I’ll have a shot of Royal.”

  The bartender left the two and Rachel looked around at all the people. So, this is what went on in places while she was home, sharing bagged chicken with Gus? At the far end were girls wearing low-cut dresses; another table had some still in their work attire. You could tell, it had office job nine-to-five written all over it. They must not have wanted to go home and change first. The guys there were a melting pot of pheromones. Some with ties and jackets, some with jeans and button-down shirts. One caught her eye in particular. Dane. He was with a group of other guys at the circular table in the corner. They all seemed to be whooping and hollering as they each swallowed a shot glass of bronze-colored liquor at the same time. Two more full ones sat in front of each of them.

  “Wow, this place is great.” John threw back a gulp of his liquor.