Page 47 of The Husband Diet
He shook his head wistfully.
‘Are you involved with anyone?’ Uh-oh. What the hell was wrong with me?
Again he shook his head, blushing. I found that endearing – a chink in his headmaster’s armor.
‘No.’
Picking at my fries, I looked up and caught him staring at me. I mean really looking hard, as if trying to figure out what he was doing here on a Friday night (it just occurred to me it was a date night) with someone like me.
‘Sorry for staring,’ he said quickly. ‘It’s just that since the first time I saw you in that restroom, you seem… different.’
‘That would be because I have my pants on,’ I giggled, and he grinned. ‘And because I’ve lost some weight,’ I added, chomping on my fries with more confidence.
(You’d think I’d eat daintily for his benefit and that I’d learned from my marriage, but that’s precisely what I had learned. Don’t pretend to be someone you’re not – eventually, your nature will catch up with you and the transformation will send him screaming for the hills. And when he comes back, if he comes back, he’ll be angry at you for duping him.)
Who cared if he thought I shouldn’t be eating fast-food after going to all the trouble of losing weight? A girl’s allowed a treat every now and then.
I expected him to say, ‘Ah-hah! That’s it!’ But he didn’t. Instead, he looked at me and said, ‘Congratulations, but that’s not it.’
‘No?’ I said, remembering to close my mouth.
‘I know! It’s your hair. It’s beautiful.’
I stopped, my mouth full of fries, my hand stealing to the back of my neck. ‘Maybe you always see me on my way back from work. I always wear a bun. It makes me look meaner. The staff are scared stiff of me.’
He threw his head back and laughed, his gorgeous eyes crinkling at the corners with tiny wrinkles, and it made my stomach flip every time. Yes, Julian was too dangerous for someone like me. You couldn’t just flirt (assuming he’d ever want to with me) with someone like him and go home and forget about it. You’d want more. No question, I was out of my depth. And he was out of my league.
In any case, assuming I had a fling with anyone in the near future, how could I protect the kids from becoming too attached and then get their hearts ripped out by another man leaving my life? I could handle it mainly because of them. Maddy and Warren didn’t deserve another disappointment. Their own father had been more than enough. No, my future fling would have to be carried out away from my kids’ eyes, when instead all I wanted was to be just like we were now. Even if I couldn’t emotionally afford to fall for him.
I looked at my watch and feigned a polite yawn. ‘Thanks so much for everything, Julian, but I really have to get these guys home.’ Pretending I wanted to end the evening – I should have won an Oscar just for that.
He didn’t blink but smiled. ‘Sure, Erica. Let’s go, kids.’
Once outside my front door, I scooted them out of his jeep, thanked him for a nice evening and said, ‘Goodnight, Julian. Take care.’
‘You too, Erica. Thanks for your company. I enjoyed it very much.’
And then, to cover the awkwardness of the fact that we were standing around, I said, ‘Would you like to come in?’ Meaning, can you pretend to have a friendly conversation while my kids fall asleep so we can afterward jump each other’s bones like there was no tomorrow.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and said, ‘Uh, it’s getting late. I have to go. Goodnight.’
Meaning… What did that mean? I thought he’d been warming up to me. How wrong I’d been.
‘Oh. OK. Goodnight,’ I said back and closed the door behind him, leaning on it, shaking my head.
Stupid, stupid idiot! Why did you have to invite him in and ruin the great vibes? It was a miracle I hadn’t torn his clothes off, horny as I was, but did I have to go and ruin it?
After I put the kids to bed, Paul video-called, surely to gossip about Julian all night.
‘Did he kiss you goodnight with that gorgeous British mouth?’ he asked with a swoon.
‘Haven’t you got a good book to read or toenails to varnish?’ I quipped, pretending to be bored by the subject.
‘Did he kiss you or not?’
‘Of course not.’
‘He likes you-ou,’ Paul sing-songed.
