She doesn’t seem offended. If she is, it doesn’t show.
"No," I say.
She raises an eyebrow.
"Yes," I say.
She looks at me for another moment, and then something in her expression relaxes, which allows my ass cheeks to finally unclench. I'm hoping my fumbling idiocy is doing some work here — lowering whatever guard she's had up since yesterday morning in the gym, sinceyou're of childbearing age, since whatever story about me she's been telling herself.
"Okay," she says simply.
"Okay?"
"Okay." She smooths her dress. Looks out her own window. "For what it's worth, I'm wearing a thong. Which is its own structural problem, but here we are."
She's almost smiling.
"Here we are," I say.
The car pulls up to the restaurant. The driver comes around. I get out first, offering her my hand to exit on my side since hers faces the traffic. She takes it, and when she steps out, there are already two photographers across the street. I know because I've done this enough times that at least one of those shots is going to be usable.
I put my hand at the small of her back and walk her to the door.
This is the job, I tell myself. This is what the next few weeks will look like.
The door opens. The restaurant is buzzing and loud. The tables have a romantic vibe to them with dark burgundy colors and dim lighting.
Blaire will be pleased.
I have no idea why that's the thought I land on.
"This restaurant is beautiful." Jenn looks around once we're seated and our wine order has been taken. "Have you been here before?"
I shake my head. "Are you a natural redhead?"
She stares at me. "You do that a lot, you know."
"What?"
"Say whatever is in your brain. Like there's no filter between the two."
Yeah.
I am suddenly, acutely aware that I don't know how to do this. Not sure what clued me in. Could have been the gym. Could have been the car. Could be right now, sitting across from a genuinely attractive woman who has every reason to be here and zero reasons to stay if I keep performing like this.
"So," Jenn tilts her head with a slight smirk. "What made you finally ask me out? And I'm using that termveryloosely."
The server returns with the wine. Fills both glasses. I nod my thanks, wanting to take the man’s hand and kiss his ring for buying me a few extra seconds. I take a sip of my wine, but Jenn is only looking at me like she knows I’m about to say some dumb shit and can’t wait to hear what it is. I take a larger sip, then set my glass down.
"I need to prove to my sister that I'm not gay."
Jenn chokes on her own saliva.
I hand her a napkin. She waves it off, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth, eyes watering, and for a moment the table is just her trying not to die and me watching it happen.
"I'm sorry," I say.
She holds up a finger.
