“She’s been off with her fiancé,” Doris supplied.
“Fake fiancé,” Seychelle corrected, deliberately sounding snippy. “You know very well he’s my fake fiancé.” She held up her naked hand. “No ring on this finger.”
“It isn’t always necessary to have a ring, dear,” Rebecca said.
“That’s the truth.” Lana backed her immediately.
Lana was particularly gracious to Rebecca, as if she could sense that the woman needed a little extra drawing out. Seychelle could see that everyone tended to relax in Lana’s company. She had an extraordinary gift of making each person feel very special, as if when she spoke, she focused solely on them—and that she was truly interested in everything they had to say.
Seychelle’s phone vibrated again. She tried to resist looking at it. No one needed to look at their phone just because someone sent a text. She already knew who it was from. There was no denying who had sent it. And he was going to start sending one after another if she didn’t answer. It was just that she didn’t know exactly what to say. With a little sigh, she pulled the offending phone from her pocket and glared down at the screen.
Baby. I’m lonely without you. You could at least text me and tell me if you’re thinking of me, because I’m thinking of you.
She tried not to smile. I’m busy. Having tea. Go away.
Right there: that was the problem. He could twist her around his little finger with his sweet text messages. She stopped thinking about the future and started thinking about how much she loved him.
Around her, the others laughed and talked, discussing which teas were their favorites and whether they wanted to try something new and different. As a rule, each person at the table could order a pot of tea and share with the others so they could try it if they wanted. Seychelle looked up to see Lana watching her speculatively. She sent her a small smile, knowing Lana wouldn’t ask her anything in front of the others.
Inhaling to try to bring the scent of the shop into her lungs, Seychelle did her best to focus on the conversation. Doris and Inez had a lively discussion going about a new couple who had moved to Sea Haven and were doing their best to fit in. Doris thought they were “pushy” and Inez thought they were “lovely.”
“Who are they?” Seychelle asked. She felt as if she should have met the newcomers.
“They retired from the city, dear,” Inez said.
“You can’t say ‘city,’ Inez,” Doris corrected. “She’ll think you mean the Bay. They came from LA. They’re bigwigs, in movies or television. Think they’re powerful, and that when they go to a restaurant they should get a table first, whether they have a reservation or not. They’re very entitled, is what I’m trying to say.”
“I’m afraid Doris might be right, Inez,” Rebecca agreed, her voice a little timid, portraying her reluctance. “Seychelle, Lana, their names are Logan and Ava Chutney. They bought the old Tubbs estate. I think it sold for eight million. In any case, they sent their ‘man’ in to get some items in Donna’s gift shop that Ava saw in the window. I was purchasing one of the items Ava wanted, and the man became very upset. He offered me all kinds of money for it. It was a hand-painted one-of-a-kind scarf. I was sending it to a dear friend in Seattle for her birthday. I truly didn’t want to part with it.”
Seychelle’s phone vibrated again. She pulled it out of her pocket, tempted to dunk it in the glass of water in front of her. The water was in a beautiful, hand-blown, very classy tall cylinder, with what looked like lilies floating in between the two sheets of glass, condensation making it all the more appealing. She wasn’t about to drop her cell phone into it just because Savage was being annoying.
Well, okay, Savage wasn’t annoying. It was just that he was far more tempting than the conversation. She was trying to distance herself from him so she could be normal. Feel normal. Be around normal. Live it again. She pushed at the hair tumbling around her face, wishing she were sitting on his lap and he was holding her while her head was in such a state of absolute chaos.
Baby, I can feel that you need me. My Seychelle radar is going off right in the middle of a very important meeting with Czar.
Your radar is so completely off track. U need one of those techies to work on it. I’m not thinking about U at all. I’m having the time of my life.
Liar, liar, panties are on fire, or they will be when I get you over my knees for lying.
He could text so fast. She put the phone in her pocket without replying. She was not touching that, not when her sex clenched and her panties went damp just reading his silly text. That was the problem. Right there. That was the problem. That wasn’t normal. How was anything about that normal? She’d just come from his house. In the courtyard were mannequins with whip patterns all over them, front and back, and she’d thought it was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. When she’d heard the sound of the whip, instead of running for her life like any intelligent human being, she’d wanted Savage to slam her up against a wall and take her right then and there. That was definitely not a normal reaction.