Not again.Not. Fucking. Again.Was it so much to ask that a woman be beautiful, intelligent, and not a discriminatory bigot?
“Our date is over, Samantha.” He waved to the waiter who had been taking care of their table. “Marty, would you mindshowing her,” he nodded toward his date, currently sporting a shocked face, “to the cloak room to gather her belongings?”
Focusing his attention back to one of Europe’s hottest international models, he said, “Educate yourself before setting foot out of your flat. Never call me again.”
Samantha finally stumbled to her feet, glaring between himself and Blair before finally, thankfully, walking away.
“Sit, Blair.” He didn’t bother to sign, as she was an expert lip reader. Once she sat in his date’s vacated chair, he did sign, “I’m sorry.” She brushed her hand in front of her body like it wasn’t a big deal.
Blair wore a simple navy dress, capped sleeves, belted at the waist, and paired with navy ballet-style slippers. She did look like a fourteen-year-old and not the brilliant adult scientist that she was.
He wasn’t sure how she’d made it this far into the restaurant without a reservation. “How’d you get in?”
“The hostess asked me if I was meeting anyone? She specifically wanted to know if I was meeting my parents.” She grimaced and shook her head. She hated that she looked so young. “The outfit didn’t help. I had to give a speech in front of several visiting botanists.
“Anyway, once she realized that I’m deaf, she got flustered and instead of offering to write it down, I pointed toward your name on the computer screen, and voila, they led me here. No one wants to be mean to a deaf child,” she smirked.
“And you decided to interrupt my date because?” True to Blair’s personality, she wasn’t remotely embarrassed or apologetic.
“I was late leaving school because I had to endure dinner and cocktails with the visiting scientists. I needed to speak to you, and I didn’t want Daniel to know. Not yet anyway. I found out you were here from Mags.”
“You couldn’t have waited until after the date?” It was clearly no loss, but the principle of it rankled.
“Mags knew who your date was. I looked her up. Her personality on social media is about as pleasing as a puppy kicker, so I knew I was doing you a favor. Anyway, make sure they still bring Samantha’s dinner, I’m starved. The food at my event sucked. I’ll take a Guinness, as well, please.”
Whoever thought Blair Barr was a sweet, softly spoken sort, didn’t know her at all. Knowing when he was beaten, he called Marty over with Blair's instructions. When he asked for Blair’s identification, she rolled her eyes and handed it over.
“What? You don’t look drinking age, especially in that dumpy frock.” He laughed at her outraged gasp.
“Fine. It isn’t a good look for me. If my tits were bigger, it would be a different story.”
When he choked on his whiskey, she made the BSL sign for laughter. Blair never laughed out loud in public. He’d heard her laugh twice in his life. She saved her voice for her girlfriends.
“Jesus. Do you kiss your mother with that dirty mouth?”
Marty brought their meals and new drinks to the table. Once they were alone again, she took a sip of her Guinness and tucked into the salad and grilled salmon Samantha had ordered. Halfway through, she set her utensils down to sign, “At least that woman can order a decent meal.”
Jonathan let dinner play out, not bothering to ask what Blair needed to speak with him about. She’d get there. Once her plate was clean, which he was quite sure his date would never have done even if she were hungry, she focused her attention on him.
“Mags, Bébhinn, and I went to London yesterday.”
“I know. Daniel mentioned you were packing up the rest of Dagr’s flat.”
“That’s not why we went.”
Blair tapped the table linens, a frown marring her expressive face. Whatever was going on, she wasn’t happy to discuss it.
“Why then?” And then his chest squeezed tight. “Is something the matter with one of you girls? And why don’t you want Daniel to know?”
“We went to spy on Ciar.”
“Jesus, Blair. Are you serious? I know he’s been different, and the Gray thing isn’t good,” his jaw clenched at the reminder, “but don’t you think spying is a step too far?”
“He has a baby.”
Jonathan could only blink, blink, blink. “Wha, wha, what now?”
“A baby. We saw him step from his building with an older woman, probably the nanny, and a pram.”
