Page 8 of Finding Jacob
“Do you feel let down by your parents’ reaction?”
I guessed at that point; he’d hit the nail on the head. I could feel tears prick at my eyes. I breathed in sharply, willing them not to fall, and straightened my back.
“Yes, I do.”
“Then I have a lot to achieve as your plus one,” he said, smirking. “And a lot of homework. If we’re to pull this off, we have to know each other.”
I wanted to ask in what way, I wanted to offer a way, but I didn’t. Instead, I accepted a cold glass of gin and mixer, cucumber and ice, and waited. When we were alone again, I sipped.
“Wow, that’s refreshing,” I said.
He smiled. “For most, it’s the tonic that is the problem, not the gin.” He sipped from his glass and all the while kept his gaze on me.
We chatted about New York, and he answered all my questions without actually answering one.
“Are you always this evasive?” I asked, sipping on my second gin.
“Yes.” His answer and the accompanying smile threw me.
“Oh, I wasn’t expecting that.”
“I’m told women like the mystery,” he replied with a laugh.
I had to stop myself from telling him that I didn’t and remind myself what we had was a business arrangement. I was also expecting us to discuss costs at some point. I highly doubted he worked for free.
“Erm, so when you come to England, would you prefer a hotel?” I asked, stammering slightly.
“If we’re to pretend to be a couple then it would make more sense if I was with you, wouldn’t it?” It was a rhetorical question. His raised eyebrows signalled a challenge to contradict him.
“Yes, I guess so. Perhaps we need to discuss flights and the length of time you’ll be in the UK.”
I could feel my cheeks redden with every word and I wanted to kick myself. The person talking wasn’t me, not usually. I was confident and assertive, yet I felt a jabbering mass of hormones and want in front of Jacob.
“Do you dance?” he asked, throwing me yet again.
“Dance?”
“Yes, dance. Do you?”
“Well, sort of. Why?”
“Because we will dance at your sister’s wedding. Isn’t it customary for the bride and groom to dance for a few bars then invite people to join them on the dance floor?”
“I have no idea,” I replied honestly. Sure, I’d been to weddings and sometimes that was with a partner, but I hadn’t taken any notice.
“If we’re to make an impact, then we ought to be up on the dance floor after the parents.”
“Right. Perhaps I ought to get some practice in,” I said, laughing and hoping it was a joke.
“You’ll have to tell me everything about your parents as well.”
“There isn’t a great deal to tell. And since I’m not talking to them, wouldn’t that seem odd? I mean, would we have had conversations about them if we were dating?”
“Flattering your parents, being the absolute bestson-in-lawis the game, yes?”
“I wasn’t planning on taking it that far.” I let out a nervous laugh, wondering what the fuck I’d gotten myself into.
“Maybe just a little background so I can at least hold a conversation then.”
