Drinks 'n Dares

Foresight Is a Fine Thing

Chapter Eight - Foresight Is a Fine Thing

Claire's POV

The sun was shining, the birds were tweeting. It was an undeniably stunning day and I was glaring at the street with a face like a thundercloud. I did have a good reason though. Jon had called me a few days after our shouting match in The Fitness Emporium to arrange a meeting to update on our situation. I'd suggested we meet in public so that perhaps we'd restrain ourselves from creating another scene in front of strangers. "Why?" he'd quipped nastily. "That's never stopped us before." But nonetheless here I was, sitting in a café I'd picked out specifically because it was close to my workplace. We'd arranged to meet at the start of my lunch break.

And that was fifteen minutes ago.

I flipped out my phone and checked the time again. I only had another fifteen minutes left and I hadn't even eaten. I'd been restraining because it seemed the polite thing to do to wait until Jon had arrived. Screw it, I decided. I stood and made to head for the counter.

"Leaving so soon?"

I turned around and came face to face with Jon. We shared mutually acidic glares.

"You're late." I growled.

"Traffic was a nightmare." He snapped back.

We sat in unison. Neither of us seemed to want to be the one to finish glaring first. Finally I smiled nastily.

"What? Nothing to say?" I simpered. "You certainly had a lot to share the other day."

"I wasn't the only one."

"And whose fault is that?"

He growled, "What do you want from me?"

"Exactly nothing." I scowled. "The sooner you're out of my life the better."

"That makes two of us."

For a split second I wondered how we must look to strangers. I certainly knew our whiplash argument was making my head spin. Not just a guy and a gal grabbing a bite of lunch. A guy and a gal who wanted to scratch each other's eyes out. Maybe they thought we'd just broken up, or that we were getting a divorce. The thought sent shivers down my spine. As if I would ever consent to date Jon even if he was a touch attractive.

"Good. As long as you don't call me a hussy again."

He had the grace to look embarrassed. "I was a touch rude wasn't I?"

"Oh just a touch." I replied sarcastically. "What was it you said again? Something about how with your luck I'd have sold the ring off to a pawn shop within five minutes?"

"You have a good memory." He said ruefully.

I eyed him coldly in response.

He sighed, "I suppose we did get off on the wrong foot rather."

"You think?"

"We've both said some pretty nasty things-"

"Both of us? What are you on about?"

He frowned. "You did call me an asshole."

"Completely warranted I'd say-"

"And that I was manipulative, rich and entitled."

I opened my mouth to argue but he held up a hand.

"Please, this wasn't where I was going with this." He said apologetically. I bit back an angry retort. He took a deep breath. "I know we got off on the wrong foot, and that we said some awful things but I accept that it was mostly my fault. We met under difficult circumstances and while I know I haven't given you any indication to show that I'm a gentleman I'd like to take this time to apologise. I'm sorry."