92 Pacific Boulevard - Debbie Macomber [89]
Rapping hard against the dark windows, she didn’t immediately realize the vehicle was empty.
She rubbed her knuckles. If James wasn’t in the limo, that probably meant he was in the bar. That was fine with her. She’d flirt with her friends and ignore him, a prospect that filled her with renewed energy.
Walking into the tavern, Christie first spotted Kyle, a divorced plumber. Several other guys were there, too, mostly sitting at tables. A few of them were playing pool.
“Hey, look who’s here.” Kyle lifted his beer mug in salute.
“Christie!” Bill slid off his stool to give her a hug.
Larry, who worked the bar, automatically got her a draft.
It didn’t take her long to find James. He sat alone in a corner of the room. That wasn’t a beer he had, nor did it resemble a mixed drink. From the looks of it, he was sipping a soda.
“Where’ve you been?” Kyle asked when Christie slipped onto the bar stool next to her old friend.
“Oh, around.”
“I heard you been taking college classes,” Larry commented, setting the frothy mug in front of her.
“Yeah, I decided it was time to get serious about a career.”
If James had noticed her, he didn’t give any sign.
Bill sidled up next to her.
“What’s with the guy in back?” she asked, pointing at James.
“We call him the Professor,” Larry said and his voice fell to a whisper.
“Does he come here often?”
Kyle shrugged. “Once or twice a week.”
“Been comin’ by every so often for the past couple months. Never says a word. All this time and none of us even know who he is.”
“He’s James Wilbur,” she said automatically. She hadn’t meant to acknowledge him. Her problem, one of many, was her inability to keep her mouth shut.
“You know him?”
Rather than lie, she took her first sip of beer while she tried to come up with a reasonable response. “Not really. I thought I knew him at one time, but I was wrong.” She wasn’t sure how much sense that made—at least to them.
“Hey, just a minute.” Kyle glanced from Christie to Bill, and then to Larry. He held up one finger. “I remember him.”
“You do?” The question came from Bill.
“He’s the guy who hung out in the parking lot before Christmas.”
Larry nodded in recognition. “The guy in the limo!”
“Is it out there now?” Kyle asked. He and Bill hurried to the door. “Yup,” Kyle told them a moment later. “Sure is.”
“Looks like he finally worked up the courage to step over the threshold,” Christie said, playing along.
All three men laughed, causing a few of the other patrons to turn in their direction.
“You might want to say hello,” Larry said.
Christie shook her head. “Why would I do that?”
“You said you knew him. He’s been pretty morose, sitting there nursing his Diet Coke.”
Diet Coke. The man was as skinny as a rail and he drank Diet Coke? For some reason she couldn’t explain, the thought made her furious.
“Sure, Christie, go say hello.” That was Kyle, throwing in his two cents’ worth.
“I’ll bet he’s been waiting for you all this time,” Bill said in a teasing voice.
“Oh, puleese.”
All three grinned.
“Hey, he looks like he could use a friend.“
Talking to James hadn’t been part of her plan, but when the guys urged her to go over, she found the suggestion irresistible. At this point she didn’t have a clue what she intended to say. It’d probably end up being something stupid. But even knowing that wasn’t enough to stop her.
James didn’t look up as she approached, which sort of ruined things. She didn’t wait for an invitation to pull out a chair and join him.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
He answered by lifting his Diet Coke and taking a sip.
“What’s the matter, have you forgotten how to talk?”
“No.”
James had always been a man of few words, but never fewer than now.
“The guys said you’ve been coming around for a while. Any reason?“
“You.“
She rolled her eyes. She hated one-word responses. “Would you care to elaborate?“
“No.“
“Fine. If that’s the way you want it.” She sat sideways in the chair, crossed