“You’re so weird,” I laughed, waving her away. “I fucking love you.”
Chapter Twenty-One
SHANNON
Gerard was talkingabout something—sea urchin harvesting, maybe?—and I was doing a fair job at the appearance of listening. There were well-timed nods, some interested murmurs, and enough eye contact to get by, but I wanted to reach across the table and gag him with a dinner roll.
By the time I’d finished chatting with Andy, it was too late to cancel on him, and having a face-to-face conversation seemed like the least bitchy path.
That was two hours ago. Now…the bitchy path sounded terrific.
“This story you’ve been telling for the past forty-five minutes is truly incredible,” I said, holding up my hand to stop his flow. “But I was hoping we could talk about a few other things now.”
“I didn’t realize,” he said, his eyes wide as if he was bewildered by his own staying power. “Meredith always said I lost track of time when I was engaged in a subject.”
Dear Meredith. Sweet, precious Meredith. Gerard’s ex-wife deserved a medal for the time she served under this guy.
“Yes, that’s nice,” I said.
My eyes dropped to the napkin in my lap, and I folded it into a crisp triangle. It was time to put this kinda-sorta relationship to an end. I’d needed someone to keep me occupied during a rough spot, and Gerard did that for me. He’d babbled me to death while I’d isolated every memory of Will and tucked them away. He’d brought me a pleasant absence of emotion, and now I could be cold and empty without urchin stories.
Eliminating the urchin stories was my only motivation; I wasn’t pulling the plug on Gerard because Will was…whatever he was.
I cleared my throat and flattened my hands on the table. “It’s been lovely—”
“Hi, sorry I’m late.” I glanced up just as Will pulled an empty chair from a neighboring table and parked himself between Gerard and me. A devious grin tugged at his lips. There was always a shenanigan with this fucker. “I’m glad you didn’t wait to order. May I?”
He grabbed my fork and sampled the untouched salmon on my plate. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I whispered.
To his credit, Gerard nodded at Will, smiling as if he was expecting him to crash our evening, and beckoned the waiter to our table. “A drink, Captain?”
“Enough with the ‘Captain’ business,” I snapped. “He doesn’t need you inflating his ego when it’s already exceptionally large.”
“And byegoyou meancock,” Will said under his breath.
Gerard didn’t hear him. Instead, he looked genuinely shocked at my comment and leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowed. He didn’t know me to have strong reactions to anything. He knew ambivalence, and never desired much more than that.
Will sampled my wine, nodding. “I’ll have what she’s having,” he said to the waiter. His gaze pinged between Gerard and me before digging into my salmon again. “What are you guys talking about?”
“Sea urchin,” I said, pushing the plate closer to Will. I didn’t need him leaning against me right now.
“Santorini,” Gerard corrected. “You thought I was talking about sea urchin?”
This was the problem with handling two opponents at once: one of them was going to see your hand if you took down the other. Ultimately, it was about assessing the greatest risk. Right now, I couldn’t decide whether it was Will or Gerard.
“You don’t like sea urchin,” Will said, pointing his fork in my direction. He turned to Gerard. “She’s very particular about the fish she eats. Won’t touch most of it. I’m surprised she even ordered salmon, but then again…” He looked around the restaurant. “Apparently this is a seafood place.”
“You don’t like fish?” Gerard asked.
“I’ve mentioned that,” I said.A few hundred times.
“Do you remember that shrimp thing we had in D.C.? With the butter and garlic?” Will asked. “That was amazing.” He turned to Gerard. “Best I’ve ever had. With this lady right here.”
“How long have you two known each other?” Gerard asked.
Will jumped in before I could respond. “A few years,” he said, ignoring my eye roll. “My sister married Shannon’s brother, Matt.”
“And you’ve spent most of that time overseas,” I clarified.
