Page 82 of What I'm Looking For

“What? Why would you do that?”

“I don’t know. We’re friends, right? Why not? I like weddings.”

“What is it with all you guys who like weddings?” I mutter, shuffling through papers.

“Are you serious? What’s not to like? Free food, free drink, fun music. Desperate single girls who want to get married, but will settle for getting laid?” He smiles as if contemplating such a conquest before lifting a palm in the air between us. “Not you, of course. But if I took someone else home for the night, you wouldn’t mind, right?”

My eyes are about to roll right out of my head. Steve’s still an idiot, if a useful one. Maybe it would be a good idea to take him along as a buffer. The more I think about it… he’s actually an ideal candidate for a pretend date. We travel together well, he’s charming, and I don’t have to worry about him hitting on me.

“You know what? You’re on.” I dig through my planner to find the tickets. “I’m going to go see if Gail can sweet-talk a travel agent into converting Will’s reservation.”

I point at him. “Do me a favor, though? You don’t have to pretend to be in love with me or anything, but if you do sleep with someone else, keep it quiet. I don’t want to have to go through a pretend breakup on top of my real breakup.”

“You broke up with him? I thought he just wasn’t going to the wedding.” He actually seems concerned.

“Yeah, I don’t know what’s going on, to be honest. It kind of feels like we broke up.” This is not a conversation I ever imagined having with Steve. Maybe we are friends.

“Bummer. He seems like a good guy. My friend Jay loves him.”

I think I do too, my heart answers. Smothering that thought and the feelings that go along with it, I say, “I’ll let you know what the deal is once I figure out the travel.” I wave the plane tickets in the air, sending a prayer to the corporate travel gods.

“Sounds good,” Steve says easily, giving my doorway a little knock as he saunters back to his office.

* * *

Walkingoff the jetway and into the Richmond terminal after a thankfully uneventful flight the next morning, I search for a familiar face. I hope someone’s here to pick us up.

Just when I’m thinking we might have to rent a car, my dad’s lopsided grin catches my eye. I wave, and a real smile blooms on my face. His dark brown hair has a few flecks of gray in it and his tanned face sports a few more wrinkles, but he looks fit as ever. His gaze shifts to my left, reminding me of Steve’s presence.

I put a restraining hand on him. “My dad’s here,” I whisper. “Just stick to the truth. We’re friends from work.”

He squeezes my shoulder. “Kate, calm down. I’ve been a fake boyfriend before.”

“No,” I hiss. “I don’t want you to be my?—”

But he’s already shaking my dad’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Bishop.”

“How did you know that was my dad?”

“Because you look just like him.” He grins. “I mean, a feminine version, but hey, he’s a handsome guy.”

My father laughs, already charmed. He opens his arms, and I step into his embrace. “Hello, sweetheart. It’s good to see you.”

“You, too, Daddy.” As stressful as coming home can be, it’s always good to get a hug from my dad.

After a final squeeze, I step back. “Dad, this is Steve Lowell, a friend of mine from work. Steve, this is my father, Jack Bishop.”

“Nice toofficiallymeet you, sir.”

“Good to meet you, young man. And call me Jack, please.” He takes my elbow. “Did you check a bag, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, I have a dress and everything so I had to pack a big bag. Sorry.”

“No problem. The car’s parked, so we can get your luggage and head out. Maybe stop for some lunch on the way.” He waggles his shaggy eyebrows and heads toward baggage claim. “Anything to avoid the circus at home.”

I shift my shoulder bag, and Steve takes it. I start to protest, but then let it go. Itisheavy.

As we walk through the terminal, the two men chat easily about golf, the market, politics. The probability is near zero that Will would have anywhere near the same level of comfort with my dad. I put a backstop on that line of thought. Just because he didn’t come along doesn’t mean things are over. For now, I just need to focus on getting through the weekend.

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