When the length of their hug reached awkward territory, he managed to wriggle free from her and turned to introduce us.
Noble gave her one of his bone-crushing handshakes, and I gave her a little wave before immediately complimenting her on her blouse. It was the first thing that came to mind because the bright tangerine color would be burned on my retinas for days to come.
“Oh, this thing?” She looked down and smiled. “I actually ordered it off of Facebook. Those ads get me every time.”
I’d ordered several hit-and-miss items off Facebook ads myself, so while we continued to wait, I kept the conversation going about that. Denise was fun to talk to, and I almost forgot why I thought she was weird until she gazed at Clay again and sighed. “You’re so handsome. I want a picture of us together before we leave tonight. Why aren’t you on social media? I couldn’t find you anywhere.”
Clay threaded his fingers together. “I don’t know. I just don’t like social media.”
“Well, I don’t want to lose touch again. Promise you’ll call me after tonight.”
Clay looked torn. I knew he didn’t want to promise something he had no intention of doing, but the truth might hurt just as much.
Thankfully, the buzzer in Noble’s hands started hopping, and that was enough of a distraction for Denise to let it go.
Following the hostess, Noble and I slid into one side of a booth, and Clay and Denise sat on the other. She cozied up next to him and wrapped her hand around his upper arm. “Muscles,” she murmured, giggling to herself.
I picked up my menu and studied it, looking for something inexpensive, knowing the discussion over the bill would be less awkward the less I spent.
“What’s good here?” I asked Noble.
“Everything. I especially enjoy the clams Italiano and the prawns alla busara.”
“Mmm.” I was not adventurous when it came to seafood. Maybe it was because I’d been landlocked my whole life, but I wasn’t about to dip my toe in tonight. I’d stick with the Italian staples I was familiar with.
I asked for water when the waitress came to take our drink orders and avoided the knowing look Clay threw my way when everyone else got fountain drinks.
Noble ordered a calamari appetizer for us, and then instructed the waitress to split the check into four equal parts. She nodded and left before the rest of us could react, probably eager to get to her other tables.
Denise looked confused, “Wait, should I…?”
Clay touched her hand. “I’m paying for your dinner. I don’t know what he’s talking about.”
Denise melted into him. “Thank you. It would be okay if you didn’t, I just wasn’t expecting—”
“Lauren and I talked about it beforehand,” Noble cut in. “We had planned to split the bill. I thought you would have told them that, Lauren. I thought that’s what we agreed on.”
I opened my menu again, taking a deep breath. He was berating me? Seriously? And why did we have to have this discussion at the beginning of dinner and not at the end? My stomach was in knots as it was. If it was just the two of us, Noble and I, this would be the part where I faked an emergency and left, but that wasn’t an option with others involved.
“Lauren told me,” Clay said, an edge to his voice. “I just didn’t agree with it. Sometimes we have to compromise on things.”
Noble gave a curt nod. “Okay, that’s fair. I’m sorry. What’s everyone ordering?”
“The cheese ravioli,” I said, closing my menu.
“Not the clams italiano or the prawns alla busara?” Noble seemed offended that I’d ignored his suggestions.
“I think I’ll have the ravioli, too,” Clay announced.
“Me, too.” Denise smiled at me. I wasn’t sure if it was a show of solidarity on her part or an attempt to not be left out, but either way, somehow this had become the three of us against my date.
The next hour was the longest ever. Noble sulked while he ate his seafood, Clay played an unsuccessful game of “try to keep Denise’s hands off of me,” and I doodled on the white paper table covering with a pen from my purse while nibbling on bites of ravioli. Clay excused himself at one point, and I knew he went and paid for all of us because I watched to make sure he wasn’t escaping and leaving me there.
His eyes met mine when he returned, and they held a question. When? When could we get out of there? That’s what both of us were thinking. Denise was almost finished, and the two of us watched and waited. Noble didn’t seem to be in any hurry either. If I left Clay with Denise and Noble, he’d never let me live it down, and I felt the same way about him leaving me. We were stuck in this stupid restaurant standoff.
“Well, this has been a lovely night. Is everyone ready?” Clay finally asked. He put his napkin down. “Denise, let me walk you to your car.”
“What about the bill?” Noble asked, peering over my head for the waitress.
