Page 40 of Five Stolen Rings
Benny shows up about ten minutes after Stella and I have claimed a stretch of wall. I was ready to sit at an actual table, but she stopped me with a tug on my sleeve.
“I’m too anxious to sit,” she whispered, biting her lower lip. “Let’s stand somewhere.”
So here we are, eating fancy food from fancy plates—and I amstruggling.
“Oh,” Stella says when I’m halfway through chewing a bite of bruschetta. “That’s your friend. Benny, right?”
Relief rushes through me as I look up, my gaze jumping to the entrance. Sure enough, there’s Benny, his gym-rat self stuffed into a polo shirt and khaki pants that he probably hasn’t worn in the last decade.
A buffer—hallelujah.
I raise one hand and wave to Benny, and he nods when he sees, diverting his course in our direction. His eyes go toStella immediately, making their way over her as a grin splits across his face. Then he looks back at me, and I swear I receive his telepathic message from here:You’re so screwed.
But he’s wrong. Stella might look incredible—like a Christmas present waiting to be unwrapped with those stupid bows on her shoes, goodgrief—but so what? A lot of women are beautiful. A lot of womenhereare beautiful, as a matter of fact.
“How much do you think he benches?” Stella says musingly, her eyes curious as Benny approaches.
“Ask him,” I say, the words dry. “He wouldloveto tell you.”
“I went to the gym once in college, with a boyfriend?—”
Already uninterested in this story.
“And I’d never been,” Stella goes on as I force myself not to grimace at the mention of a boyfriend. “So I just did whatever he did. I was so sore the next two days that I couldn’t even go to class. When I wanted to go to the bathroom I sort of just had to crash down on the toilet seat. I could barely move.”
My sour expression—the one I should not be wearing in the first place—pulls into a smile at this. “He shouldn’t have had you do everything he was doing.”
“Jacky boy,” Benny says when he reaches us, that stupid grin still on his face. “Don’t you look handsome, all dressed up for a night out on the town. How’s our favorite lone wolf?”
I grit my teeth through my smile. “I didn’t know you owned anything other than wifebeaters.”
“Hi,” Stella says, giving him a smile that’s much more authentic than mine. “You’re Benny.”
“Sure am,” Benny says as he turns his gaze to her. “And you’re Stella.” He holds out his hand. “Good to see you.”
“You too,” she says, eyeing him curiously as they shake hands. “How much do you bench? Do your muscles make it uncomfortable to sleep on your side?”
I roll my eyes and try not to laugh. “I’ll be back,” I say to them, handing my plate to Benny. “Hold this for me.” Don’t ask me why I don’t want to leave Stella alone, because I don’t know.
Benny takes my plate and immediately starts popping food into his mouth; I turn away before Stella can say anything.
I just—need a minute. Possibly two. So I head out of the fancy event room and down the hall, where I find a men’s restroom; I splash my face with cold water and take a few deep breaths.
Why would she think I’m out of her league? Why would sheeverhave thought that, when it was so clearly the other way around?
“It doesn’t matter,” I snap at myself in the mirror. “Get it together.”
All right. Moving forward, my previous plan will be implemented: avoid her, and when I can’t avoid her—like tonight—try not to look at her too much.
Maybe I should join a dating site. Meet some other women.
But into my head pops Benny’s words from the other night:You don’t want to just…like her?
“Of course I don’t,” I say, and I am very aware that I’m talking to myself like a lunatic. “Because?—”
Because why?
Because she did stupid things in high school? Didn’t everyone do stupid things in high school? Some of us even do stupid things now—like try to break into their stepmothers’ homes to retrieve family heirlooms.
