“Where’s Claudia?” I ask.
Hugo waves me off as he moves toward the hostess desk. “She’s not coming. Some mix-up with my personality. She decided she didn’t like it. Hey, Gabrielle.” He leans over and kisses the hostess on the cheek. “Can we have six?”
“Of course.”
Gabrielle takes three menus and then leads us over to a booth toward the back right wall. It’s tucked away—its own little oasis. “Enjoy.”
Hugo sits, and then I let Jake slide in, so he’s in the middle.
Hugo yanks at his collar. “It’s hot today.”
He’s moving around like a caged bird, and he hasn’t once made eye contact with me.
“Are you OK?”
“Fine,” he says. He reaches for a water on the table and downs some. “Just one of those back-to-back days.”
“You’re right, it is hot,” Jake says. He reaches behind and pulls his sweater up and over his head, before winking at me. My heart does a one-two step. The kindness of this man, his consideration—not for Hugo, but for me. He wants this night to go well, because I’ve told him it matters to me, and he’s going out of his way to play diplomat.
“So,” Hugo says. “Daph tells me that you work in Hollywood.”
I feel my stomach tighten, one, because Hugo has just used my nickname—an unnecessary show of closeness—and two, because he makesHollywoodsound derogatory, even the word choice is dismissive.
But Jake does not blink. “Yes, I’m pretty lucky. I have a good gig and good bosses. For the most part, the people I work with are not too egomaniacal.”
Hugo laughs. “That makes one of us.”
“You’re in real estate?”
“In theory,” he says. “Mostly I talk people into doing things they don’t want to do.”
Jake smiles. “That would not be my strong suit.”
The waitress appears again. We order drinks. A tequila and soda for Hugo, a beer for Jake, and a glass of red wine for me. I’m not supposed to drink a lot. Actually, I’m not really supposed to drink at all. It can interfere with my medication, it’s inflammatory, a whole host of reasons why any vice could possibly bedeadly. But there are only so many concessions I can make in this life, and alcohol isn’t one of them.
“It’s beautiful here,” Jake says. He looks around.
“Have you ever been?”
Jake shakes his head.
“It’s my sanctuary,” Hugo says. “I come at least once a week. It’s pricey, but worth it.”
He’s acting like an asshole, but also a nervous asshole. It’s an interesting combo for Hugo, and not necessarily one I’ve seen before. I can tell, Jake can tell, and I can see Hugo can tell, too. That he wants to be difficult, like he’s trying to win some invisible hand war. Elbows on the table.
I slip my hand into Jake’s under the table. He squeezes back.
“I hear you guys are moving in together,” Hugo says.
Jake looks over at me. “She hasn’t exactly given me an answer.”
Hugo downs more water. “Don’t be tricky, Daph,” he says.
“I’m not tricky,” I say. “I’m just slow.”
“Good luck getting her to get rid of any of her stuff,” Hugo says.
Jake puts a hand around my shoulders. “It can all come. We’ll make room. I love all your weird things.”
