Free Second Chance Hero by Rebecca Sherwin

two. What a hypocrite.
    Mr. Crane’s phone rings and I’m forced to pay
attention to him. The call is quick, with barely a word said on his part.
    “I’m afraid,” he says putting the phone in the
inside pocket of his suit jacket, “I’m going to have cut our meeting short.
Duty calls.”
    Thank god.
    “I understand. Another time.” I lie.
    He stands and does the buttons on his jacket up,
calling to the waitress to put the drinks on his tab.
    “I look forward to seeing the final drafts. Great to
see you.”
    I stand up and take his proffered hand.
    “You too.”
    He leaves and I turn my attention back to the Jenna,
who is wearing a white work dress and sitting metres from me. I felt her
presence the moment she stepped outside, but she hasn’t noticed me. I’ve seen
this way too many times to not understand what’s going on here. She can't sit
still; she changes which legs she’s got crossed five times in the few minutes I
sit and watch her. She twirls a piece of hair around her finger, her strappy
shoe dangling from her toes, and she’s running the backs of her fingers up and
down her throat. The guy opposite her looks like he just won the lottery and
there is no doubt in my mind that this is a date.
     But then she turns her head in my direction, looks
straight at me and my assumptions fly into reverse. Bingo.
    She looks away instantly but she’s played the first
hand. And, she’s wearing the necklace I bought her yesterday. I finish my drink
and stand up from the table, making my way over to where she is sitting with a
vertically challenged man who is hanging on her every word.
    “What are you doing?” I stand next to her chair, and
completely ignore who she’s with.
    “Are you serious?” She asks as her eyes widen in
shock. She turns her entire body to face me, one hand gripping the back of her chair,
the other on the lip of the glass table.
    “Yeah, I’m serious.”
    “I’m about to have lunch. Have you got a problem
with me eating now?” Jenna stands up, challenging me, and folds her arms. My
eyes travel to her exposed cleavage, I can’t help it. I want to laugh at petite
Jenna trying to be tough, but the anger radiating off her tells me to tread
carefully.
    “I’ve got a problem with you being here with him .”
I point to her lunch companion without looking at him, “Aren’t you supposed to
have a boyfriend?”
    “Oh, Deacon,” she squeezes the bridge of her nose,
“you are so far off the mark right now”
    “What are you talking about? You judged me for my
lifestyle yet you’ve been back in town for two minutes and I’ve seen you with
two blokes. I thought you had more self respect than that.”
    “Don't do it.” She says calmly, but I can see the
rage rippling just below the surface, “You have no right to judge me, when you
don’t know me. Don’t paint me with the same brush as you because of your sordid
lifestyle.”
    “Clearly our lifestyles have something in common.”
    I turn to the guy sitting with her and he looks more
than amused, shaking his head and smirking.
    “Something funny, mate?”
    He shakes his head, continuing to smile, as someone
clears their throat behind me. I turn around to see another man and a quirky
hippy woman standing behind me. I recognise the hippy and the humiliation hits
me like the slap in the face I’m sure Jenna wants to give me. I’m in trouble.
    “Deacon?” Jenna says and I turn back to her. I
missed something significant here. Like the other two chairs at the table,
“Abbie, Carl and Anthony. Abbie is running my shop in Camden, Carl runs the
shop in Covent Garden, and Anthony here is his partner.”
    “Shit.”
    She nods, and walks away from the table, leading me
to a corner by the tennis courts and out of ear shot. I grimace, thinking I’m
going to get it. If only I’d watched her for five more minutes. I look back
over to her table as her friends all look away. It’s obvious the man I thought
she was on a date with is not