“No, but that wouldn’t work. We’ve just met. When I told my mom I was dating someone, she jumped to the conclusion that I had a boyfriend. She’ll be expecting my date and I to know each other well.”
“We have a week to get to know each other.”
I give him a skeptical look while I search his face. His offer is sincere.
“Remember, it’s a multi-day event. Not just a few hours on the weekend.” It would actually be okay if I only brought a date to the ceremony and reception, but I’m hoping to discourage him. I just don’t see how it could work, for so many reasons.
“Also not a problem,” he says. “My schedule is flexible.”
“Is it, though? I get the idea that your work is awfully important, since you have to check your messages during yoga class.”
Max cringes, and I hate to say it, but he looks pretty adorable doing it. “Sorry about that. But I didn’t do that too often, now did I?”
“Once was enough.”
He tilts his head, looking so endearing. “I can get time off. It’s no problem.”
I search around for more reasons to support my objections. I can’t imagine spending multiple days pretending that this man is my boyfriend, and what if he reverts back to grumpy yoga-Max in uncomfortable situations?
“There’ll be dancing at the wedding.” When he frowns in confusion at my statement, I add, “I’m just assuming that someone as stiff as you are probably can’t dance.”
“Ouch! Wow.” He clasps his chest, as if I’ve wounded him. “I’ll have you know that I’m actually a really good dancer. Care for a demonstration?” He holds out his hand and pushes his chairback, making room to stand, but I quickly shake my head and gesture for him to stay seated.
“No, no. That’s okay. I’ll take your word for it.”
A couple at a table across from us turns to see what’s going on. Naked admiration sparkles in the woman’s expression as her eyes linger on Max.
“Assuming I can’t dance … what nerve.” Max is still amiably grumbling about my accusation when a server arrives with our food baskets, coconut shrimp for me, and a fish sandwich for him.
“Those look good,” he says, eyeing my food as I unfold a paper napkin onto my lap.
I nudge my basket a couple of inches closer to him. “Help yourself.”
His long fingers select one of the shrimp, dip it into the orange sweet chili sauce, and deliver it to his mouth, where his lips surround the crispy coating. My mouth waters, and it’s not for the food, as Max chews and swallows, his expression reflecting his enjoyment. “Ooh, that’s good,” he says. “Want to try mine?”
My eyes go wide as my mind spins its own interpretation of what he’s offering. I have no interest in the fish sandwich, but Iwouldlike to try his. I jolt myself back to reality. “No, thank you. It looks good, too, though.”
“Supposed to be one of the best in the area, from the reviews I read.”
Eager to busy myself, I grab one of my shrimp and quickly take a bite. “This is really good. Thank you for suggesting this place,” I say after I swallow.
“Thanks for coming here with me. I hope your evening’s going better than it was.”
I nod and offer him a smile as I slide a french fry out from the pile. I’m hopeful the wedding discussion is over, but when he’s halfway through with his sandwich, Max picks right up where he’d left off.
“In addition to being an excellent dance partner, I know how to have a good time. I can tell that this wedding has been causing stress for you, and as your date, I’ll make sure you have a lot of fun.”
“Ha! Fun is far too much to hope for. At this point, I’ll be glad just to get through it.”
He tilts his head, his eyes soft and warm. “Because of your ex?”
“Because of him, and my mom, and all of the responsibilities I have as maid of honor.”
“I’d be happy to help with any of those responsibilities that I can, and as far as your ex goes, we can play it however you like. I’d enjoy making him miserable with regret over losing you, if you’re up for that.”
Max is undeniably more attractive than my ex-fiancé, like not even in the same category of man. It would be interesting to see Rick’s reaction if I were there with Max, but I’m not sure I have the energy or motivation left in me to try to rub anything in his face.
Rick has such a big ego, though. It would be nice to take him down a notch or two.
