Six Weeks of Seduction by Ellis O. Day
CHAPTER 63: SARAH
Sarah sat in her car at a stop light. She had to do something. Dr. Smileworth was getting more and more adamant about meeting Nick and that wasn’t going to happen. She had no intention of telling Nick anything about her problems.
Her stomach grumbled. It was almost lunch. There was a Chili’s up ahead. Her hands shook but she forced herself to turn into the parking lot. She stopped the car and stared at the building. She had to do this. She had to get better faster. The doctor was pushing and Nick was getting suspicious. He hadn’t said anything yet, but he’d asked her to go out with him on several occasions. He’d tried the movies, dinner, dancing, a concert and a play and she’d found some reason to refuse each time. Usually, she sidetracked him with sex but more and more, she’d see the doubt in his dark eyes and for days afterwards she’d catch him watching her closely as if trying to puzzle her out. She couldn’t afford for him to realize that she was nuts. She had to get better.
“You can do this. It’s just lunch.” She got out of the car and walked to the restaurant—her stomach doing flips. She opened the door and went inside, wiping her sweaty palms on her pants.
“Hi, how many,” asked the young hostess.
“One.” Her voice squeaked but the hostess didn’t seem to notice.
“This way.”
She followed the woman to the table, the noises of dishes and chatter making her head spin. A man glanced up at her. She looked away. She could not pass out. She would not pass out. This had been a mistake. She needed someone here—Nick, Maisie, Tank, Peter—someone she could hold on to, someone to make her feel that everyone wasn’t staring at her and that her world wouldn’t collapse around her.
“Your server will be right with you.” The hostess waited for her to sit and put a menu on the table.
“Th-thank you.” She stared at the menu, ignoring all the people around her. They aren’t watching you. They aren’t.
“Can I get you something to drink?” The waiter was a cute, young guy.
“Margarita. Double.”
“Frozen?”
“No. Straight with salt.”
“Coming right up.” He smiled again, his eyes roaming over her, but not with pity, with interest, sexual interest.
That she could handle. She smiled back. “Thanks.” As soon as he left, she stared at the menu again, pretending she couldn’t decide what to order. She shouldn’t have come here. She should go.
The waiter delivered her drink and she ordered a turkey club with fries. He took her menu. She pulled out her phone. She had to have something to look at, but this wasn’t helping. She took a big gulp of her drink and gasped slightly. It was definitely a double. Her hand shook as she put the phone on the table. She leaned back, and forced herself to look around. No one was looking at her—not with pity, not with interest, not at all. It was great. She sipped her drink, a feeling of relief and pride slipping through her. She could do this. She was doing this. A woman looked up at her. She gave the lady a slight smile before looking away. She was the one staring and she had to stop. She grabbed her phone and started checking emails.
The waiter came back with her food and she ordered another drink. She was in a restaurant. Alone. It was liberating.
When she finished her lunch and her third margarita she left. Lunch had been awesome. She was making progress. She truly was. She couldn’t wait to get home to Nick. She wished she could share this with him, but then she’d have to explain why going to a restaurant was such a big deal. Still, she could jump his bones. Warmth spread through her belly and lower. She pulled her keys from her purse and dropped them on the ground. Oops. Maybe, driving wasn’t such a good idea. She’d had thee margaritas—all doubles. She wanted more margaritas and Nick.
There was a Walmart was across the street. She could go shopping. Panic tickled her spine but the tequila flicked it away like a pesky bug. She’d gone to lunch alone and no one had cared. She could do Walmart.
She texted Nick.
SARAH: I’m going to Walmart. We’re having tacos tonight and margaritas. Be ready.
She walked across the street. She was really doing this. Her phone beeped.
NICK: Okay. Do you need me to do anything?
SARAH: Yeah. Me. I need you naked in bed.
She giggled as she waited for his reply.
NICK: I take it your meeting went well.
SARAH: Fabulous and now I need liquor and sex. I need your hard cock so deep inside me that I can’t speak.
NICK: Sounds like you’ve already had the liquor.
SARAH: Only three margaritas. They were great.
NICK: Where are you?
SARAH: Walmart.
NICK: Which one? I’ll pick you up.
SARAH: The one by Chili’s. Stop at your house and get your handcuffs first.
NICK: Don’t drive. I’ll be there in about forty minutes.
Sarah slid the phone in her pocket and stared at the door as people walked past her. A few glanced at her but it didn’t matter because it wasn’t pity on their faces; it was irritation. She was blocking their path. She giggled again. Irritation she could handle.
She walked inside and grabbed a cart. It’d been years since she’d been in a Walmart. Nothing much had changed. The layout was different but the place was still packed with people who were busy—babies crying, people pushing carts and filling them, and no one paying any attention to her. It was perfect. She was surrounded by people and yet more alone than in her house.
