He’s got a small bowl of green and black stuffed olives in the center of the table. He opens his palm, motioning for me to help myself.
I pop one in my mouth. An explosion of salty bitter bursts between my teeth.
“I’m starving. I just got off work. Didn’t have a second to breathe.”
His gaze slides out the window. He finds Cheese Louise and nods. “That’s your shop?”
“The shop I work at, yeah. I don’t like, own it. Which is good. If I did, I’d just eat all the cheese. All day every day.” Another olive. “Hey, so what’re you doing tomorrow night?”
He closes his book. The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins. The boy likes a gothic mystery—noted. “I imagine you’re about to tell me.”
He starts to pull off his glasses, but I tell him, “The glasses stay on.” He pauses, readjusts them on his face. I lean back in my chair, admiring the view. “I’m going to a party. I want you to come.”
“A Christmas eve party?”
“A birthday party for my roommate, Ophelia. Jesus isn’t the only one who gets to celebrate his birthday in December.”
A wry grin twitches at the edge of his mouth. “Doesn’t your family want to spend time with you?”
“Oh, yeah. I texted my mom about Christmas plans and,I quote…” I pull my phone out, scroll through my texts, and read out loud, “Oh, were we doing that this year? I already got a ticket to France.”
“France sounds nice,” Dorian placates.
I put my phone up. “So, needless to say, I’m spending the holidays with my New York family. Which means I’m tagging you in.”
His eyes narrow. “Why, exactly?”
“I haven’t seen most of these people in, like, a year. I could just…use back up. Or whatever.” Another olive. “God, these are addicting, huh?”
He stares at me like I’ve grown a second head. “You want me to be your boyfriend for a night?”
The look in his eyes makes me want to run. I shake my head. “Forget it. It’s a big ask. You probably have plans for the holidays, so?—”
“When do I pick you up?”
“Sorry?”
“The party. If you want me there, I’ll be there.” He talks about this like a business deal, and my nerves settle, because this isexactlywhy I knew he’d be a good choice for this. He understands boundaries and compartmentalizing. One night out playing girlfriend/boyfriend won’t kills us. Right?
I relax my shoulders. “You can meet me at The Hideaway on Bleeker at nine.”
“Okay. I’ll be there.”
I exhale.Problem solved. For now, anyway. And maybe because I’m relaxing, that’s when I notice…
There’s a place setting in front of me.
I blink. “Are you on a date?”
He stares at me. “Would you be jealous if I was?”
Dick. He just wants to get under my skin. I’m not allowed to be jealous about this. We negotiated this. We said dating wasokay. So why this strange tingling in my chest?
I lean back. I examine him. “You’re off to a shitty start.”
A slow blink. “Excuse me?”
“No flowers? God. Men have gotten so lazy. Straighten up in your seat.”
