Be My One Regret

be my 1 regret / 15

FOOD, IT'S THE ONLY TRUE LOVE A PERSON SHOULD EVER HAVE....trust me

Tanner's protective hand was still on my back as we cross the busy downtown street to the latest city craze bistro on the other side. And I like the sensation of his palm there. Friendly as it may be. It still feels good. I look up at him and laugh as he says yet another tawdry one liner about a group of young college girls as they pass by us. It's the same old Tanner every where we go. A familiarity that resonates warmly of something we share. And I beam up at him despite the desire to scold him for his brash behavior.

A gust of wind shoves it's way around the cars, buildings and people blustering my hair into a freakish mess over my face. He laughs and pats its down as we step to the curb in front of the small French restaurant. "Oh my gawd, girl. Maybe you should go use the ladies room before we eat. Not sure if I can stomach my way thru a Croque-Monsieur if I have to look over at your hot mess."

"Screw you, Jones. I'm sure you've seen and eaten your way thru  a lot worse."

I jab my pointer finger into his side really hard, he yelps a little then swats my hand away. His eyes sparkle with mockery. "Guilty."

"Yeah, I thought so." I roll my eyes and wait for him to open the door. Cinnamon, butter, and wine hits me, and I whimper with food delight. "Oh gawd, it smells so good. Get us a table and I'll go fix my hair."

"You got it, baby girl."

He kisses me quick on my temple before I turn towards the ladies room in the front entry. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, I try not to laugh at my haphazard reflection. My cheeks are flush, and my hair was frighteningly horror movie frizzy. Two things that even I can't stand, so I hurry thru my primping. A little gloss, a spritz of perfume, and a fluff and straighten of my hair with my comb. I step back and don't completely flinch at my improvement. With two thumbs up and stomach growling for food, I hustle back to the dining room scanning the crowded room for Tanner's auburn head. But unfortunately, I don't find one. I find two. And I heave a frustrated sigh when both turn toward me and grin with their ridiculously charming smirks. Tucker's eyes dare me as Tanner waves me over. It's an obnoxious duo, the two of them. And it's enough to have me reconsidering eating at all. I stand in my spot, frozen with indecision, firing back a threatening glower that I'm 99% sure they both can read as pissed off, but it doesn't affect either of them. Not in the least. Tanner chuckles and pats Tucker on the shoulder. Tucker's. And their sick humor to see me fuming, grates my last hungry nerve.

Damn them. And damn me. A lunch date with not one but two assholes. Day made. Peachy.

Flustering with contradiction, I flick my gaze back at the front door reconsidering the exchange of freshly made croissants for the day to the old hot dog stand down the street. The temptation abounds, and I grumble.

Anything would be better than this.

"Miss...hello miss?"

A finger taps me on the shoulder, and I turn around to see a portly older waiter gently smiling at me. I plaster a fraction of a smile on my bitter lips. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"

The creases in his forehead crinkle together as his smile widens. "I'm sorry miss, I can escort you to your table. Your party is waiting for you."

Thru my forced smile, I mumble. "I bet they are."

"Pardon?"

"Nothing." I shake my head then shrug. "Yes. Please. Show me the way."

To be honest, lunch was beyond delicious. My helpings of risotto and lamb linger in my mouth with scrumptious flavor as I dab the corner of my mouth with my napkin. The food was divine. The ambiance of the bistro was superb. The company not so much. And when I had been seated by the very helpful waiter, I had made a decision to not engage with either Jones Brother. I was too pissed by the blind siding of my traitor bestie to want to be a part of Tanner's drivel discussions involving and not limited to  business. He had lied. Twice. Which was irritating. As for the other twin, Tucker just pissed me off in general. He was being coy during the conversations, leading and misleading, directing and redirecting his attention to me at times.  It was too damn coy. Especially after a few weeks of admonishing myself for our regrettable sexual escapade, I wasn't in the mood for his coy bullshit. As far as I was concerned, both copper headed devil twins could go to hell why I partook in heavenly cuisine. They'd pay. I'd leave. Lunch over.