Under Glen’s watchful gaze, I pat him briefly and give him his bowl of food with its 80mg of test material hidden inside. He eats everything.
#
I don’t need to look up from my coffee mug to know Justin has entered the restaurant. Even amid the buzz of animated chatter and a busy espresso machine, his presence has the effect of lending a charge to air I’m drawing into my lungs.
Crossing the room, Justin slides into the seat opposite me, stripping off his jacket and depositing his helmet onto a chair. “Still sticking to ginger tea?” he asks as he flags down a server.
“Decaf.”
“So you’re pretending to have the real thing while going with a poor substitute?”
“Sounds like your dating life,” I retort.
He chuckles. “You interested in my dating life, TT?”
“I couldn’t be less interested.”
“Admit it, you’re drawn to the dark side.”
“You know, I don’t think you believe half of the outrageous statements you make.” The words have barely left my mouth before a sporty-looking, red-haired server materializes at our table.
“What can I get you?” she asks Justin, ignoring me.
He flashes a slow smile at her. “After the week I’ve had, only a double shot of espresso will do.”
“Oh, I know the feeling!” she gushes, spilling sympathy and cleavage all over him.
I roll my eyes while Justin stretches out his long legs and soaks it up.
“You hungry?” he asks me when the server pauses for a breath.
“Starving.” I order a pumpkin soup, while Justin settles for a vegan quesadilla. When the server finally drags herself away, I raise my eyebrows at him. “Do they all fall for you like that?”
“Not everyone’s able to conceal their feelings as well as you.”
I smile despite myself. “I’m sure the bike’s the clincher.”
“Second only to my charm.”
“The charm you manage to hide so well from me.”
“What’s the matter, TT? Feeling neglected?”
The question is a little too close to the truth. “No.”
The server returns with his coffee. He waits until she leaves before he asks me, “Do you have a boyfriend?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Simply making conversation,” he says idly. “Any particular reason you don’t have one?”
I level a look at him. “Why do you assume there’s no boyfriend?”
His lips twitch. “Call it a lucky guess. So, what’s the reason? Can’t the guys see past your glasses or can’t you see past your prejudices? Or,” he says, drawing the word out with a knowing smile, “has no one got past Daddy?”
Ignoring the baited comment about my father—Justin’s the one with parental issues, not me—I think of the guys who have asked me out. Steady young men with solid career plans. All given my father’s stamp of approval. None of them, however, progressed to beyond the fourth date. They were all okay but lacking something.
“I’m still looking,” I tell him.
