Evan’s face clouded with confusion, and I wondered if he thought this would be a recurring prank. I looked on, absently replacing the Saran wrap over a metal container of pearl onions, waiting to see if he’d admit he didn’t remember Aidan—or if he’d go along like he had the night we met.
Kyan broke in before he had to commit either way. “Do you know Elizabeth?”
I held up a hand, not wanting to get into whatever this was. “I don’t think—”
“Just wondering since you’re both writers. Elizabeth Wright, Aidan Marshall.”
“Oh.” I gave Aidan a sheepish grin. I didn’t recognize the name, but for all I knew he’d won a Booker Prize or something. Now, I was the one in a position to play act. “I haven’t really—”
“I don’t think we’ve met. You have a great name for a writer,” he said, holding a hand out to me over the bar. “I run a local author group.”
“Seriously?” I stood frozen, his hand in mine forgotten for a moment as I processed his words. Was he inviting me?Join a writing groupwas on Chelsea’s list, not for her sake, but to encourage me to get involved in the community, or as she put it,my own kind.
“It’s pretty informal, but anyone who’s interested in writing would be welcome.”
I leaned against the bar, giving him my full attention now. Most men who offered mentorship didn’t pass the vibe check, but Aidan didn’t come across like a creep. “Sure. When do you meet up?”
“Sundays.” He took out his phone. “If you give me your contact info, I can shoot you the deets.”
I checked in with Kyan with a look, hoping he’d give me a sign if I should avoid this guy, but he just shrugged. “You should do it.”
“Okay.” I held out my hand for his phone. “Why not?”
Chelsea would be proud of me for taking another step out of my comfort zone. Plus another point for the list. France was looking more and more certain.
As I typed in my number, he said, “You ought to come to Kyan’s party on Saturday. It’s gonna be low key, but a bunch of us get together once a year...”
Kyan pointed at Evan. “Evan needs to be there. A lot of the old crowd comes back home for Thanksgiving.”
“Yes, say you’ll come,” Aidan agreed. “We play flag football, drink some brewskis, swap stories.”
Evan faked a smile. “Uh, yeah. Maybe. I’ll be busy moving, but I’ll see.”
Aidan thumped him once more on the shoulder. “Okay, well I hope to see you there.” He swiveled his head my way. “And you too, Elizabeth. Nice to meet you. Can’t wait to read your stuff.”
I held a hand up in a silent farewell, then shot a look at Evan, folding my lips together, suppressing laughter.
He met my expression with a head shake and an eye roll. “There’s a reason I haven’t been to any high school functions.”
“Not even a reunion?”
“Nope.” He drained his glass. “I probably should, but there are people I’d like to avoid.”
I recalled what he’d told me about bullies and mean girls, and I couldn’t blame him, but he seemed to have friends as well. He tolerated Kyan and Aidan fine. Maybe there were other people he’d want to reconnect with.
“If you want moral support,” I said, wiping a rag across the bar unnecessarily just to look busy, “I could go with you.”
Even though he hadn’t asked me out yet, I’d been hoping we’d spend our first free night together. He stared at the ice in his glass, and I made myself swallow the nagging feeling he was trying to get out of a date we hadn’t even set. Finally his eyes lifted to mine and he said, “Okay. I’d appreciate that, but we don’t have to stay.”
“Maybe you could show me your furnished house later?” I whipped the rag out at him playfully, and that smile came back out.
“Now there’s something to look forward to.”
Lucy hollered, “Last call,” and the remaining patrons flagged waitresses or rushed the bar. For the next twenty minutes, the three of us worked in a frenzy.
“You want another?” I asked Evan, pointing at his empty glass.
“Nah.” He tilted his head. “Just enjoying the show.”
