Page 79 of A Little Bit Uncertain

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AUDRA

Just prepare yourself. Man, did that phrase have implications at that moment. Prepare for the relationship? Prepare to be swept off your feet by an amazing man? Prepare to sit with his parents, who sounded like they weren’t my cup of tea? Prepare. It seemed like the whole photograph thing really put Donovan on edge. I didn’t quite understand it, but then again, I’d never been harassed like that, nor had stories run about me that weren’t written with the best of intentions in mind. Still, his hand was gripping mine as if it was anchoring him. The playful banter and flirting were gone; it was just silence and the sound of the city around us. I couldn’t imagine how he was feeling. Ready to come face-to-face with his parents after years. He still hadn’t gotten into the nitty gritty of why he was estranged, but I knew he’d tell me when he was ready.

“Hey,” I felt compelled to say, turning to him and meeting his eyes. “Whatever happens tonight, you’ll be okay. We get on a plane in the morning and you never have to come back here again. Or maybe shit doesn’t hit the fan and we come back every six weeks for these bagels you’ve got me hooked on.”

At that, he smiled, and I squeezed his hand. “I know we don’t have much of a history, Van, but I’m here now, and I support you with everything.”

“Thanks, Chaos. That means the world to me. I’m just nervous right now,” he admitted.

I pulled his hand up to my lips and kissed it to show my support.

Pulling up to what had to be one of the fanciest restaurants in the city, Donovan got out, turned around to help me, and before I was even out of the car, the click click click of a camera was going off. He wasn’t joking; the photographer was all over him. Shit, I hope I didn’t flash my crotch upon exiting or anything. Donovan held his arm out so I could hook onto it, and so I did. He didn’t drag me along like last time; it was almost like he had resigned himself to the fact that this was going to happen, so although he didn’t stop and pose or anything, he just let the guy snap his shots as we walked in arm-in-arm.

McKenna was already there, and she was show-stopping. She was wearing a long, satin, emerald green dress that had a high slit up her thigh, and it fit her perfectly. His sister was something else.

“Audra! Donovan! I’m so glad you’re here!” she exclaimed as she hopped off her stool to hug us. “Audra, oh my God, where do you shop? That dress is made for you. Wait, was it made for you? Has Van introduced you to the dark side of custom clothing?” Her eyebrows lifted in a teasing arc and I saw Donovan smirk in my periphery.

“No, it’s from a neat boutique that just opened back in Savannah Springs,” I said smoothing my dress, “but that dress had to have been made for you. My goodness, McKenna.”

A tiny blush rose on her cheeks. “Guilty. I blame Van. He bought me a gift certificate to get some custom clothes made when I graduated from high school. It’s been hard to look back. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like all my things are custom. I just like special occasion things made for me,” she said as she gestured down her dress, “and tonight is a special occasion.”

“Well, it certainly works for you! So, Donovan, is that custom-made?” I turned to him.

A guilty smile sprouted slowly across his lips. “My jacket is. It is so hard to find clothes that fit my measurements because of my shoulders. I have to get everything tailored anyway, so I just started to get custom stuff. It’s a guilty habit.”

“Well it works,” I said. “Both of you look great!”

The three of us sat, McKenna and me next to each other and Donovan on the other side of me. We fell into a quick and comfortable chat, just like we had in the car. Time flew, and I ordered a second glass of wine and a Macallan for Donovan.

“So, New York has been good to you, Audra?” McKenna asked as we settled in.

“We’ve had a fantastic time,” I said, squeezing Donovan’s knee. “I’ve seen some bucket list things, some things I didn’t even know existed, and had some delicious food.”

“So I’m hearing you’re moving here, then?” she laughed.

“There’s no way I’d move back here. Mackey, do you know Mom and Dad told the magazines I was coming in?” Donovan interjected, agitation in his voice.

“I mean, I figured when I sent you the article,” she responded.

My head snapped to Donovan, “What article?” I turned to McKenna, and her eyes were wide. Turning back to Donovan, he was in the middle of one of those silent sibling communication moments asking why did you have to say anything face to her. “What article, Van?” So that was why he was so worked up about the photographers. He left out the fact that I was in an article.

“It was just a run-of-the-mill crazy person article. The short of it being ‘Who was the hot woman who got the recluse out of his shell.’”

Again, What?! I didn’t know what a run-of-the-mill-crazy person article was, because the only thing that was ever written about me was a minor story in the Savannah Springs paper about my survival and my mother’s death.

“It wasn’t bad or anything,” McKenna interjected. “It was just … Van is ... was rarely photographed with a woman after…”

Donovan cut her off. “Oooooookay. I’ll let you read the article later, Chaos. It’s nothing bad or exciting, just the normal bullshit.”

I didn’t want to drop it. Since who? Who was he last photographed with?

Before I could dig my heels in, the maître d’ came over to inform us that our presence was requested at the table. Again, what the hell was going on? They didn’t just come over and say hello? How weird was that? And his parents clearly saw us if they knew to request our presence. I saw Donovan take in a huge breath, trying to ground himself. McKenna was out of her seat and put her hand on Donovan’s shoulder as I heard her whisper, “You got this, Van.”

Up until that point, I felt pretty okay rolling with the punches, but seeing the emotion on Donovan’s face had me second-guessing what I was about to walk into. He took my hand and followed McKenna, as she weaved through the tables. The place had to be one of the prettiest restaurants in the city, and I was sure the food was spectacular too. Everything was ornate and extravagant, from the sparkling crystal chandeliers to fresh flowers everywhere. These tables were decorated like they were being staged for the wedding of the century. Doing quick napkin math, I calculated how much the centerpieces alone would cost. My guess was that my weekly salary was what it would cost to put out these centerpieces for two nights. But that was someone’s actual job—one that I would love to have. I wondered how much a dinner bill at a place like this would be?

They stopped, and I peeked around Donovan’s huge body. His parents were glaring at me, but so was this other beautiful woman sitting with them. She was tall, probably close to six feet, and a hundred pounds soaking wet. I mean, I watched enough America’s Next Top Model with Cora to know she fit the bill to make it on that show. Not a hair was out of place, and she probably got her clothes custom-made, too. I plastered a smile on my face as McKenna went around to greet and kiss everyone. Donovan just stood there in place, and I noticed his nostrils flaring. Whatever was happening there was not something he was okay with, though I supposed seeing his parents at all could have explained that. But the tall woman gave me pause. Something didn’t feel right about her.