Well, it didn’t work. We still got married. And everyone knows you were there. Crying while your ex married someone else. Me.” She looked me up and down. “This isn’t over, Bonnie. This is just beginning.”
She turned and flounced toward the bar.
“Bonita?” Roberto’s voice was filled with confusion. “Did you do this? Do you…do you love another man?”
I shook my head. “No, no.” But then inspiration struck. “I mean yes. Yes I do.”
He nodded, his eyes downcast. “I see. Then we cannot marry.”
“Exactly.” I was limp with relief. I handed him the box with the bracelet inside. “We probably shouldn’t even eat dinner. You know? Since all I’ll be thinking about is the man I love.”
“Yes.” He stooped down and retrieved a basket from under the table. Slowly, he gathered the items on the table, blowing out the candles and folding the lace tablecloth before stowing them in the basket.
He finished and turned to face me.
“So, uh, good luck with the wife hunt,” I said.
“Yes. I will continue looking.” He shook his head sadly. “I am sorry it is not meant to be. For you and me. We would have made beautiful babies.”
He looked so forlorn, I felt sorry for him. “Don’t worry,” I said, patting him on the shoulder. “The perfect woman is out there, waiting for you. I just know it.”
He left and I sat down at the bare table, unsure of what to do. Angela was in the main part of the restaurant. There was a pretty good chance Chase was there, too.
I couldn’t face him. Not now. I didn’t know what I’d do. What I’d say. Maybe I could just sit at my little table tucked in the back of the restaurant and wait them out. I grabbed my phone from my purse and checked the time. It was just before eight. The bar closed at two. A little more than six hours to go. I sighed and closed my eyes.
“Hey, Bonnie.”
My eyes flew open.
Paul smiled at me. “How’s it going?”
“OK.”
“You here by yourself?”
I hesitated. How did I explain what had just happened?
“Sort of,” I averred.
He leaned in, a puzzled expression on his face. “That usually isn’t a question you answer with a maybe. You either are or you aren’t.”
“I was here with someone. But they left.”
“Oh. Gotcha.” He waited.
“You?” I asked.
He jerked his head in the direction of the bar. “A little welcome home party for Chase and Angela.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I saw her.”
He winced. “How did that go?”
“Not well.”
“Yeah, I guess it wouldn’t.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Can I do anything?”
“Do you know a way to make me invisible?”
He laughed. “I wish.” He thought for a minute. “Can’t do that but I do know someone in the kitchen.”
“They have wizards in the kitchen?”
“Nooo. But there’s a kitchen exit. And you can leave that way. If you want.”
I leaped to my feet. “Want. Please.”
I followed him past the restrooms, to the employee entrance. He peered through the door and motioned to someone inside.
A tiny brunette stepped out of the kitchen. She wore a white coat and one of those cute little chef hats.
“Hey, Meg.”
The chef smiled at Paul. “Hey, you. How are you?”
“Good, good.” Paul glanced at me and then back at Meg. “Say, I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”
“Sure, what’s up?”
“Can we borrow your exit?”
“My what?”
“Employee exit. The kitchen.”
Meg settled her gaze on me and I saw recognition flash in her eyes. “Oh. Yeah. Sure.” She pushed open the kitchen door and motioned us inside.
Paul and I followed her, weaving our way between counters and fryers and long, metal grills covered in burgers. My stomach growled. I still needed dinner.
Meg led us to the back door. “Here you go.”
“Thanks,” Paul said. “I owe you.”
“No problem.” She looked up at him. “And I’ll cash in. Drinks tomorrow night?”
“Yeah.” He grinned. “Absolutely.”
“So, thanks,”
Learning to Kill: Stories