“Absolutely. It’s a promise.”
Mark scoops Sky up with his free arm, now holding both kids with the practiced ease of someone who’s gotten used to being a human jungle gym. “You two have fun. And Freya? Thanks for taking my wife away from us. She needs this.”
“It’s my pleasure,” I say, and I realize how much I mean it. Not just the time with Bella, but this glimpse into what their life resembles. Even with the crying and the tantrums and Mark’s obvious exhaustion, there’s something here I find myself wanting.
As we head out to my car, Bella sighs with what sounds like a mixture of relief and guilt.
“I love them so much,” she says, glancing back at the house where Mark is probably already dealing with some new crisis. “But sometimes I forget who I used to be before I became Mom.”
“You’re still you,” I tell her, unlocking the car. “…the evolved version.”
“Some days it doesn’t feel that way.”
We get in the car, and as I start the engine, I find myself thinking about Ben. About the way he gazed when I mentioned wanting to get married someday. About the surprise in his voice, like the idea had never occurred to him.
“So,” Bella starts as we head down the street. “Tell me everything. How’s work? How’s the art going? Please tell me you have some gossip that doesn’t involve potty training or sleep schedules.”
I almost mention the fake engagement. The words are right there, waiting to spill out. But something stops me. Maybe it’s the way Bella asked about Ben specifically, or maybe it’s the realization that telling her would make it feel more real somehow.
And I’m not sure I’m ready for that yet.
“Work’s good,” I respond instead. “I’m working on a new series, abstract pieces exploring transformation.” I shrug, hoping that explanation suffices, since I don’t like to discuss my art too much. I’d rather it speak for itself.
“And very you. What about dating? Please tell me you’re seeing someone interesting.”
“Not really dating anyone seriously right now.”
“What about Ben? You two have been friends forever. Has that ever been a consideration? I mean, do you ever think about you two together?”
I feel heat rise in my cheeks. “Ben and I are just friends.”
“Are you sure? Because every time I witness you two together, there’s this energy. Like you’re both pretending not to notice something obvious.”
“Ben never gets into relationships,” I state quickly. “He’s married to his job.”
“People can change, you understand. Especially when they meet the right person. Consider Mark, he used to be Mr. Bachelor Forever, and now he gets excited about pediatrician appointments.”
But even as I deflect her questions, I remember the way Ben gazed at me in the jewelry store yesterday. The way he insisted on buying me that ring I loved before I came to my senses. The way he seemed genuinely surprised that I might want marriage someday, like he’d never considered that I might not be content to be his eternal best friend.
“You understand what I think?” Bella turns in her seat to face me. “I think you’re both too scared to risk what you have, to ruinyour friendship. But sometimes the biggest risk is not taking any risk at all.”
I bite my lip, wishing I could tell her about the weird situation with Ben I find myself in. I’m worried what she would think about it, though, especially given what she’s declaring now.
She’d probably tell me what I’m doing with him is too risky.
And maybe she’d be right.
But I recognize that I’ll be fine. It’s one dinner, which will be over soon enough. Plus, bonus points: I’ll then get to hold it over Ben for the rest of our lives. Anytime I want something from him, I can remind him of the time I pretended to be his fiancée in order to secure him a deal.
It’s fine if my sister won’t understand. She’ll never have to learn about it anyway.
CHAPTER 5
BEN
Red picked what might be the nicest restaurant in Chicago. Leather booths line the establishment walls, each one offering privacy most places only hint at. Career waiters in pressed vests walk around with perfect posture, and a live jazz trio plays softly on a small stage.
This is exactly the type of venue I’d normally choose for an important dinner. Discreet, impressive, with security that ensures paparazzi won’t be sneaking photos of whoever’s dining here tonight.
