Promises, Promises by Laurel Osterkamp

Author:Laurel Osterkamp
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: selfdiscovery, romance and mystery, ghosts romance, psychological suspense romance, relationships personal growth, ghosts and hauntings, relationships and love, psychological thirller

Wednesday, 8:00 PM

There are three restaurants in the town where Tristan lives: one’s Italian, one serves burgers and wings, and one specializes in seafood. We’re at the seafood one.

“I wish he had let me pick him up,” Tristan says. “All the ice in his martini is melting.”

I take a sip of merlot, hoping that it will alleviate my nerves, but it’s going to take more than a couple of glasses of wine to do that. I see some movement outside the window and feel guilt and disappoint all at once. I was hoping he just wouldn’t show.

“I think your fiancé has arrived,” I say to Tristan.

She bolts up and goes to open the door. Hunter enters, using his fully mobile arms to push the wheels of his wheelchair. I wave, but as his hands are occupied, he doesn’t wave back.

No matter. They reach the table soon enough, despite having to navigate the fairly tight space between diners and tables.

“Hello, Hunter. It’s good to see you.”

“Hi, Robin. You look the same.”

I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult so I don’t say thanks. Hunter immediately takes a healthy swig of the martini Tristan had ordered for him, and in mere seconds his glass is half empty. Tristan says that Hunter, through no real fault of his own, has been a glass-half-empty sort of guy for years.

“So, Robin,” Hunter says, his voice already sounding loose and surly with liquor. “It’s funny to see you again after all this time. I mean, Tristan never mentioned you once, ever, until the other day, when she said she’d invited you up here for the weekend. What’s that about?”

I feel like I’m in an interrogation room, fluorescent lights beating down on me while I wilt under the detective’s stare. “I guess we lost touch over the years. But I could never forget Tristan. Camp Grayson was intense and she was my only friend.”

“Intense,” repeats Hunter. “Now that’s an interesting word.”

Tristan rubs Hunter’s shoulder in a downward motion that stops at his elbow. “Hon, lighten up. Robin only just got here.” She turns her face toward me and it’s masked in a conciliatory glaze. “You should tell us all about everything: your dress business, that reality show you were on, and your boyfriend.”

“You have a boyfriend?’ Hunter asks. “Why didn’t you bring him?”

“He had to work.”

Hunter twists his face, which is pocked with acne scars. “Too bad. Perhaps things would be less awkward if he was here.”

My jaw drops at his blatant rudeness. Luckily, the waitress arrives with our food. I had wanted the lobster, but feared that cracking open the shell and dipping it in butter would look too primitive in front of this couple who, after all this time, are all but strangers. So I ordered the marlin instead.

The waitress puts down a plate of trout in front of Hunter and the same for Tristan. “I hope that’s okay,” Tristan said. “I remembered you liked it last time.”

“I’m totally not in the mood for trout.

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