“Uh, yeah, sure,” I said, rubbing at my temple. “We can eat or something, but I’m being serious, Rick. I’m not changing my mind. Let me go get freshened up, okay?”
“Sure,” Rick said, and glanced over his shoulder at my family. “I’ll wait at the stairs if that’s all right.”
After brushing my teeth really quickly, I ran a brush through my hair and reapplied deodorant. Before leaving the bathroom, I glanced down and saw Nate’s dirty T-shirt on the floor. Against all my best wishes, I picked it up. I chewed on the inside of my cheek, trying to talk myself out of what I wanted to do. No one was watching. The door was closed. No one would ever know.
Furtively, I lifted the shirt to my face and took a deep breath. Nate’s scent filled my nostrils and my lungs. The tiniest moan of pleasure escaped my lips, startling me. I dropped the shirt and stood quickly, kicking it under the sink on instinct.
That was freaking strange. Why was I being so weird tonight? I wasn’t acting like myself at all.
Mom was helping Gael with his homework when I stepped out. She glanced up at me as I came down the hall, and I thought I saw a happy gleam in her eyes.
“You and Rick broke up?” she asked.
“Mom, can we please not talk about this right now?” I groaned.
She shrugged and went back to helping Gael. Before I reached the door, she muttered just loud enough for me to hear. “I like that Nate boy very much.”
“Stop,” I grumbled, and opened the door.
Rick stood just outside the door. He reached out to take my hand as I stepped out. I glanced down at his offered hand and ignored it as politely as I could, fumbling with my purse to prevent taking it.
“I’m sorry about that in there,” Rick said, lowering his hand and looking down, unable to meet my eyes. “I overreacted.”
“It’s fine,” I said, desperate to put the whole awful exchange behind me. “I’m starving. Let’s get food, and you can say what you need to say,” I said, though the nausea had returned, making my stomach twist.
Thirty minutes later, Rick and I were sitting in a nice restaurant, but the tension between us hadn’t dissipated. The entire ride over had been spent in awkward silence, and neither of us had wanted to start a conversation.
To top it all off, when the waiter came, Rick basically ordered me not to drink.
“She’ll have a water,” he said.
“Actually, I could go for a glass of wine,” I said, relishing the thought of dulling my frazzled nerves.
“No. Not a good idea,” Rick said, then waved the server away and went back to perusing the menu.
I wasn’t a huge drinker at the best of times, having maybe one or two glasses of wine or a couple of cocktails a week. Rick’s casual assertion that I couldn’t have any alcohol irked me, but I didn’t want to make a scene about it. I’d already had enough of that today to last a lifetime. Plus, my headache and upset stomach had gotten progressively worse on the way to therestaurant. Grudgingly, I decided that maybe it was a good idea not to imbibe anything.
When the waiter left, I glared at Rick. “You know, treating me like a child is not a good way to try and win me back, if that’s what this is.”
His head snapped up, and he looked abashed. “Oh, uh, I’m sorry. I just thought, well, you haven’t been feeling well, and if you might be?—”
“I swear to God, if you say I might be pregnant, I’m fucking walking out those doors right now. Understood?” I said, keeping my voice low so as not to be overheard.
“Right. Sorry,” he muttered, dropping his head again.
Rick had ordered an appetizer while I’d been in the bathroom, and when it came out, I nearly blew chunks at the sight of a half-dozen raw oysters on a bed of ice. The gray, jiggly, gelatinous, snot-textured pieces of flesh in the shells nearly did me in. I usually liked oysters, but I couldn’t stomach the thought of having the slimy meat sliding down my throat.
Thankfully, Rick seemed to be starving and ate all of them. By the time he was done, he didn’t even notice that I hadn’t partaken. Of course, perhaps, that had been his plan all along. For some reason, he kept insinuating that I might be pregnant. Raw oysters were a big no-no for pregnant women. Had he ordered them to see if I’d actually try to eat them?
Fuck. Had my skipping the oysters made him even more sure I was somehow carrying his child? Good lord, that would be my luck. Break up with a guy just to find out I had his baby growing inside me. I was not pregnant, but it was still a horrifying thought.
While we waited for the entrées, Rick wiped his mouth with his napkin and sighed. He relaxed back into his chair and looked at me, a sad puppy-dog expression on his face.
“I’m sorry, Cameron. I shouldn’t have behaved that way earlier. I apologize for earlier this afternoon, too. I never should have told you to change your hair or anything at all. You’re perfect the way you are.”
“It’s fine,” I said, taking a sip of water. “I get it. I should have told you I was working with the police on a case. As for your parents and what they think, that doesn’t really matter anymore. Like I said on the phone. This”—I gestured to each of us—“is just not going to work. We’re too different. I should have noticed it months ago. You have to see it too, Rick. We come from totally different backgrounds.”
He sat forward, putting his hands on the table. “Not that different, Cam. Let me prove it to you. Come to the gala with me. Meet my parents. I’ll show you how great it is. How about this,” he added, as though just thinking of something. “We go just as friends. Nothing more. You get to have a great night out rubbing shoulders with celebrities and stuff, maybe even get some good info for one of your lifestyle columns. After that, we rethink this breakup. If after the gala, you’re still done with this, then I’ll take it that this was not meant to be.” He looked at me pleadingly. “One last night? Please?”
