“I’m on birth control,” I blurt, hating how my cheeks flush at talking about something so casual. Most women my age would not blush at the detail of protection, but I will, apparently, never mature. “And we’ve all been tested…”
Aunt Ruby holds a hand up, “That’s great, dear. I just mean… one man can be too much. And these are all high-profile people, right?”
I nod, stomach flipping at the reminder of who it is I’m on my way to see. “Don’t worry, Auntie. I’m being careful.”
She rolls her lips and stares at me for another beat, and I can almost hear the thoughts running through her head.
That I don’t know what I’m getting myself into. If the media gets their teeth in this—these three men dating one woman, years younger than them—it’s going to be a circus. That one way or the other, I’m probably going to end up hurt.
It’s one thing to think that, to logically understand that fact, and another to let it affect me. At this moment, it feels like nothing could curb my enthusiasm for being with them.
Not that I’m going to tell Aunt Ruby that.
Crossing the room, I dip down and press a kiss to Aunt Ruby’s cheek. “I’m being careful, and just having fun. You’ll be the first to know if anything happens, or if I need help.”
That gaze of hers continues to rest on me. “Okay. I love you, Lucy.”
For some reason, the sound of that makes my chest tight. Of course, my family has been telling me they love me for a long time. At the ends of phone calls and before bedtime. But this is different. This is Aunt Ruby looking at all the weirdest parts of me, the sexually deviant streak, the recklessness, and saying she loves me anyway.
“I love you, too.”
With that, I step out into the cool hallway and make my way to the street. There’s no snow, but the trees are bare, reachingtheir spindly arms up into the brilliant blue New York sky. The contrast between the city and the island is stark. NYC is cold and dry, whereas the island was hot and wet. But still, I love it here.
And I can’t stop thinking aboutWhen Harry Met Sallyevery time I see a leaf drift lazily down from a tree branch.
There’s already an SUV idling at the curb when I push through the heavy old doors of Aunt Ruby’s building. When I near the car, Dane slips out, opening the door and ushering me inside. Once we’re all settled, there’s a stupid moment of just smiling at one another.
Dane even puts his phone down, work forgotten as he shuts the door behind him. I’m between Nico and Cole. Nico plays with the tips of my hair, and Cole rests a hand on my thigh. So casual, so comfortable.
“So, what kind of restaurant is this?” I ask, tugging off my gloves and laying them over my lap.
“It’s a friend of mine that owns it,” Cole says, pulling out his phone and reading from it. “A seasonal, autumnal pop-up eatery with a focus on cherishing the earth and celebrating the fade from summer to winter.”
“Fancy,” Nico snorts, while Dane says, “I didn’t know you had friends.”
Cole glares at the two of them, “You’re right. I don’t.”
But the faux tension breaks when I laugh, and all three men are looking at me again, their expressions soft.
I’d never taken the time before to imagine what my ideal date would look like, but it turns out to be something just like this. Enjoying the squash bisque, apple pork tarts, and pear crumble with blackberry syrup. Sipping on champagne while the guys hang on my judgment of each plate. Teasing Nico when Cole’s friend turns out to be a very famous celebrity chef, and Nico is a little starstruck.
“That’s not funny,” he says, as we push out into the cool afternoon air, tucking his scarf a little more firmly around his neck. “I was ambushed.”
“Good thing I don’t have any friends,” Cole quips, opening the car door for me to slide inside. I wish we could just wander the streets, explore the city in autumn, but I know it wouldn’t be a good idea.
So, instead, we drive to a pumpkin patch just outside the city that Dane reveals he’s rented out for the day. Only the employees are there, and they’ve all signed lengthy, tight NDAs.
We explore the patch together, getting lost in the corn maze and picking through what remains of the pumpkins. At the cabin, we get hot apple cider and sugar-dusted donuts.
And, despite the fact that I’m on a date with three men, and despite the fact that we’re the only ones in the place, it feels wonderful.
That is, until my phone starts to buzz in my pocket.
“Hey,” I laugh when I answer, trying to dance away from Nico, who’s desperately trying to see the name on the caller I.D. “What’s up, sis?”
“Lucy.”
It’s not Mary’s voice, even though it’s her name that popped up on the screen. The voice is deeper, sterner, a note to it that instantly makes my stomach drop.
