Page 202 of Champagne Nights

“There’s this great Mexican place a few blocks over from my office. It’s called Queso Cantina.”

“I love that place. Sounds good.”

“Excellent. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow, Henry.”

Just as I went to set my phone down, a text message came through from my best friend, Joni.

“Girl, I haven’t heard from you in a while. Let’s do lunch tomorrow.”

“I just texted you the other day, lol. I wish I could, but I have lunch plans with Henry.”

“First of all, the other day is too long, and second, who the hell is Henry?”

“A guy I met at the grocery store. Too much to text about him.”

“Okay. Then you’re coming to dinner at my place tomorrow. Be here at six-thirty. I want to hear everything about this Henry guy.”

“I’ll be there. Tell Pete I said hi.”

“I will, sweetie. See you tomorrow.”

Joni and Pete were two of my best friends. Like me, they were also deaf. We met in college, clicked right away, and have been best friends ever since. She worked as a teacher for deaf children, and Pete was an accountant. Pete and I dated once, and after that date, we decided we were better off as good friends. It wasn’t long after meeting Joni in one of my classes that I knew she’d be perfect for him.

Chapter Four

Henry

“Who are you texting?” Kirsten asked as we sat across from each other at the restaurant.

“A client.” I looked up at her. “You know my workday doesn’t end at five o’clock.”

“Even my father doesn’t text clients at dinner,” she spoke in an irritated tone.

“Well, I’m not your father. Am I?” My brow raised.

She rolled her eyes and looked away from me.

“I’m just saying it’s rude, Henry. We’re supposed to be having dinner.”

“And we are. I’m sorry. But I can’t ignore my clients no matter what time it is.”

She sighed as she picked up her glass of water and took a sip.

The moment my phone dinged, and I saw the unfamiliar number on my screen, I knew it was Ellie. She’d made this unbearable dinner a little easier. Kirsten had done nothing but have an attitude with me since she got into the car. I didn’t know what her problem was, and I didn’t care. I just wanted to get through this dinner and get the hell home.

“You haven’t even touched your glass of wine,” I spoke.

“I shouldn’t have ordered it. My stomach has been bothering me all day, and alcohol is the last thing I need to put into it. Am I staying the night, or are you coming back to my place?” she asked.

“Neither.”

“Why?”

“I’ve had a long day, and I have to be up early for a meeting.”

“Jesus Christ. We aren’t even married yet, and you’re already acting this way.”

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