“What’s the game plan here?” I take a fortifying gulp of wine. “Who do we need to talk to? W-who do we need to meet and impress?”
“Calm down there. We just walked in.”
Well, yeah. We just walked in. But already I’m blown away by how charming and romantic the setting is. And that’s on top of being blown away by how great he looks.
So basically, I’m in danger of being blown all the way to Oklahoma. And I don’t want to live in Oklahoma. The commute would be unbearable.
All of which means I need to get my emotions and my imagination under control before they get ideas. Dangerous ideas about how amazing it would be if thiswasan actual date.
But it’s not a date. It’s a fake date. The date may be fake, but we do have a real goal here. Keegan clearly wants to impress whoever it is that his father wants him to meet.
“Well, sure. We just got here. So that means it’s the perfect time to devise our game plan.”
“Our game plan?”
“Yes. Our strategy. I mean, w-we’re here for a specific reason, right? This isn’t just our normal Saturday night hang out. We need to set s-some goals.” Keegan looks at me like I’m crazy, so I swat him on the arm. “I’m serious. Your dad wanted you to come here, right?”
“Yes, but I wasn’t aware that we needed a plan of attack for the evening.” He hides a teasing smile behind a sip from his glass.
“Well, we do.” I tilt my chip up at him, and somehow feel like a petulant toddler. Keegan might not need a plan, but if I’m going to get through this evening mostly unscathed by the emotional and physical warfare that is being on a not-a-date with Keegan, I need something to focus on. Something besides the feel of his hand, steady and warm on my back.
“So, who did your dad want you to meet?”
Keegan makes an exaggerated shocked expression. “Since when are you and my dad on the same side of any argument?”
“I’m not saying I'm on his side. But, you know ... know your enemy and all that jazz.”
“Settle down there, Sun Tzu.”
“I’m serious.”
“You’re adorable.”
I swat his arm again and give him take-me-seriously-damn-it eyes.
Keegan takes a sip and then uses that hand to gesture to an older couple walking out into the gardens beyond the courtyard. “Those are the Langleys.”
“Am I supposed to know who the Langleys are?”
“Shush. I’m setting the stage here.”
“Right. Langleys. Older couple.” The woman has her hand resting on his arm as they wander through the garden. “Clearly plant lovers.”
“Exactly. Plants. Trees. Clean water. They’re the real deal in conservation. They own about 1000 acres of land just west of Austin.”
“Nice.” I pull up a mental map of that part of Austin and try to picture a spot where there’s that kind of undeveloped land. “That must be in the Edwards aquifer recharging zone. I bet that’s why they’re so eco aware.”
“Exactly. My dad has been talking to them on and off for years, trying to get them on board with developing that land. They’ve always shut him down.”
“But suddenly they’re interested?” I ask. “And that’s why he’s bringing you on board?”
“Smart girl.” Keegan gives me a smile of approval. “With land getting more and more valuable around Austin, it’s harder for them to say no. Plus, they’re getting older. If they die before it goes into development, their kids can do whatever they want with it. They want to get the deal on the books while they still have some say and how it’s developed.”
“Think I like these people.”
“Don’t sound so surprised. Not all rich people are assholes.” Keegan takes a sip of wine without quite meeting my gaze.
For the first time it occurs to me that all of my rich-people-are-assholes comments over the years might hurt his feelings. It also occurs to me that I might be wrong. After all, Keegan is rich, and he’s not an asshole. The Langley’s clearly aren’t. And after all that Keegan’s mother has done for me lately, I certainly can’t keep thinking of her that way. As for his father, well, the jury is still out on him, but I find it hard to believe that both Loretta and Keegan would put up with him if he was a total jerk.
