She snatches the menus off the table without writing anything down or answering, and I chuckle as she barks at another table.
“How do you know I’m not a vegetarian?” I ask, finishing off my beer.
He rolls his eyes. The manrolls his eyes,and it’s really fucking hot.
Clasping his hands together on the table, he leans forward again. My left hand is resting on the table, and he’s inches from me—yet I can feel his body heat radiating from his hand.
“Are you?” he asks, his eyes imploring.
I sit back and cross my arms, and then my lips tug into a small smile. “No.”
His mouth twitches, and I want to scream,Just laugh! Smile for once in your damn life!
Before I can, he shrugs and takes a sip of his new beer. I do the same, not caring about saying the wrong thing. Fuck it. He’s been nice enough,andhe said I was too good at my job. I feel like that gives me a small amount of grace and leeway. Just as I’m about to make another comment about his grumpy demeanor, he speaks.
“Has the weather been nice in San Diego?” he asks, tilting his head slightly.
I nod. “It’s almost always nice.” Just as he opens his mouth to ask another question, my phone begins to ring. I reach for it and see that it’s Ari calling me. I look up at Dr. Kincaid, and he gestures for me to answer it.
“Go ahead. You’re off the clock,” he adds, eyes sharp and assessing.
“Thanks. It’s my best friend and I just want to be sure she’s okay.”
Standing up quickly, I press the green Answer button just as I step into the smallest bathroom to ever exist and lock the door.
“Hey,” I whisper.
“You haven’t answered any of my texts! I thought Doctor Devil kidnapped and skinned you as a flesh blanket or something.”
I huff a laugh. “I’m fine.”
“Why is your voice all low and whisper-y?”
“Because I’m out at dinner.”
She gasps. “WithDoctor Devil? Is it, like… a work dinner? Are there other people?”
I bite my lower lip. It’s going to sound way more scandalous when I tell her the truth, and I just know she’s not going to let me live it down.
“Um, no. I mean, yes. It is a work dinner. But it’s just the two of us.”
“How many drinks have you had?” she grills.
“I’m on my second beer. Calm down, mom.”
“Okay, that isnota work dinner. Don’t you know the rules? One drink is fine, two drinks means it’s not a work meal. I mean, technically you can’t even write off more than one drink unless you provide a very good reason for doing so?—”
“Just because you’re a CPA now doesn’t mean you’re an expert?—”
“Actually, bestie… it does. But you have fun on your date, okay? I want to hear everything!”
There’s a click and yet I still let out a frustrated groan as if she can hear me. While I’m in the bathroom, I pee quickly and wash my hands. When I look at myself in the mirror, I’m surprised tosee that my cheeks are pink and my eyes are bright and jovial. It’s hot in here, but instead of looking sweaty, I look dewy… and I don’t hate it. Exiting the bathroom, I walk back over to Dr. Kincaid, who is waiting patiently with our food.
“Sorry,” I mutter, sitting down quickly and putting my phone back in my purse. “I should’ve told you to start without me.”
“Everything okay?” he asks, pushing a plate of spring rolls and a large bowl of chicken chow mein in front of me.
“She’s fine. She’s just worried because I wasn’t answering my texts.”
