“I like this game,” Amber said. “Next question. I don’t remember reading anywhere that you were ever married. Is that correct?”
He nodded once. “That’s correct.”
“Were you ever engaged?”
“No. Never. Not even close. What about you?” He never even thought about asking her this question.
She shook her head. “No. I only had one serious relationship.”
That was new information, and Robert leaned forward to hear more.
Amber hesitated, as if unsure if she wanted to elaborate, and some of the light left her eyes as if a painful memory resurfaced. But she continued. “I was young. Still a teenager. Then I threw myself into college and work and never took the leap again. You?”
“I’ve had a few relationships that I thought could turn into something, but they didn’t. And I’ve never been in love before.”
She paused when he said the word “before,” and a small spark ignited behind her eyes.
Robert paused as well, while his heartrate recovered from the unintentional slip. “Tell me more about your family,” he blurted out. Smooth, dickhead. Just trample over the “L” word with the question of the hour.
“There’s nothing to tell.” Amber dove into her lobster salad, successfully preventing her from expanding on her answer.
Reverse psychology,Robert reminded himself. “My mom never worked. She took care of the house and me and my brother. She drove us to all our football practices and games, and she loved to make lunch for the team when we were kids. She loves to garden and grows all kinds of roses. My dad still works on Wall Street, but he’s getting ready to retire. Although I can’t imagine what he’d do home all day. He likes to keep busy. What do your parents do for a living?”
“My mom is a real estate agent. She’s a people person, so she does well.” Amber took a few more forkfuls of the salad. “My father’s a truck driver.”
It’s not the occupation Robert expected. He thought her father would be an airline pilot or something professional, but it made sense now. “That’s why he’s never home?”
“His job takes him all over the country. And when he comes home, I think he forgets where he is, because all he does is yell, as if he’s with a bunch of . . . truck drivers.” She rolled her eyes with frustration, but also with a bit of amusement. “I swear, he doesn’t know how to speak in a normal tone of voice.”
Robert had to laugh. “I think all dad’s like to bark orders.” His certainly did. “What about your friends, Amber? You never talk about them.”
“I talk about Hope all the time.”
“That’s it? You only have one friend?” It sounded terrible, and he immediately corrected himself. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that I have so many buddies from college.”
“It’s OK. Guys always have more friends than girls. Hope’s been my best friend since high school. I have a lot of people I’d call acquaintances, not friends. I only get to see my sorority sisters once a year. But I do have neighbors that I consider friends. Judy lives in the end unit in my complex. She’s a couple of years older than me. We went to a movie a few weeks ago. Sandy and Xavier on the first floor are a fun couple. They have me over for dinner sometimes. I’ll introduce you next time we see them.”
“Great.” The conversation led exactly where Robert wanted it to without sounding pushy. “I’d love to meet your parents too.”
She almost choked on a sip of water. “No. You wouldn’t.”
“Why not?”
She stared at him for a long time before answering with a non-answer. “Because.”
“Well that certainly clears things up.” He smiled, because she opened up to him, and that’s all he wanted. Fuck whatever bullshit Manny tried to put in his head. Amber had no secrets. “My parents aren’t perfect,” he said. “Far from it. But they’re pretty awesome. I want you to meet them. And my brother and his family, too.”
“You do?” She looked overwhelmed by the invitation, her face filling with wonder.
“Of course.” He reached across the table and took her hand. “You’re my girlfriend, and I’m nuts about you. I’m going to send them a text message right now.” He took his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it. Before he started texting, he realized this was the perfect lead in to ask the question he wanted answered the most. “I was playing with my phone the other night and couldn’t find you on social media. I wanted to send you a friend request. What’s your profile name?”
She shook her head. “I don’t have any personal profiles on social media.”
“None?” He acted surprised. “How come?”
“I’m a doctor. I never wanted to risk anything showing up that might make me look unprofessional, so I closed down all my accounts when I graduated high school.”
It was a simple answer that made perfect sense, and he felt like an idiot for listening to Manny.
