Page 88 of I'm Looking for a Man in Finance
“Oh, we’re just—” I started to say, unsure how to define what this is.
“Dating,” James cut me off, leaning around me to announce for the table. “We are dating. Just thought I’d get that out of the way before the salad is served.”
“We could have guessed that the moment you brought her here, James,” an older man grumbled as he walked up to the table with two bowls of salad in his hands. “I’m Lorenzo. James’s grandfather.”
I smiled nervously. Now it was my turn to turn the same shade of red as the baskets of tomatoes that were visible in the kitchen. While James wasn’t lying, I wasn’t sure how I felt leading his entire family to believe we were serious. Because while I was wishing we were, neither of us had properly broached that conversation yet.
“Hallie,” I said, offering a polite smile.
“I think I’m the last one to join, so you won’t have to introduce yourself anymore.” Lorenzo took the seat across from us, but not before giving Giulietta a sweet kiss. Then he poured a glass of wine from one of the bottles on the table and offered it to me. “If you’re anything like me, you’re going to need this to get through this dinner.”
James’s shoulders shook with silent laughter beside me as he watched me accept the glass. Under the table, his hand found my thigh, his fingers giving a firm squeeze that sent a jolt up my spine.
“I’m sorry,” he leaned over to whisper in my ear.
“Don’t be,” I whispered back.
There was something magical about being surrounded by the people who had shaped James—who had helped build the person sitting beside me now. The warmth, the noise, the stories passed across the table like bread baskets—it made me feel like, just maybe, there could be room for me here too.
31
James
I never thought I could love Hallie’s laugh more. That was until I heard her laugh at one of my uncle’s jokes that I’d heard a million times, the two of them in near tears by the time they’d caught their breaths again.
My grandfather unknowingly showed off for Hallie, having the kitchen send out nearly every appetizer the restaurant had. There was bruschetta and antipasto and caprese for all of us to share. I think I counted five times that Hallie sighed happily and closed her eyes after she tasted something new.
We hadn’t even gotten to the best part yet.
“What is it you do, Hallie?” Nonna asked after the appetizers were cleared and the wine glasses were refilled.
“I am a writer for a women’s magazine calledSophisticate.”
“I know it! I’ve read it for years,” my mother exclaimed. She and Hallie had really hit it off. I don’t think I could recall one time that my mother had seemed interested in a single thing Cassidy had to say. But she had also pegged Cassidy for exactly what she was far sooner than I did.
“Is that the one that you cut that dating article out of the other day?” My grandmother asked my mother. “The one about the man with the nickname?”
I think both Hallie and I stopped breathing as we realized exactly which article they were talking about.
“Yes,” my mother confirmed. “Mr. Old Fashioned. I don’t know if I can remember the name of the writer on that article.” My mother pressed a hand to her heart. “But it was like reading one of my favorite romance novels. The way that man treats her. She’d be silly to let that one go. I know she had some reservations in the beginning, but she’d be blind to think he wasn’t head over heels for her. A private cooking class? The Hamptons? I’m itching to see what next week’s article is.”
Hallie’s hand shook as she reached for her glass of wine. She took a large gulp. “I wrote those articles,” she told them. Surprising not only me, but the entire table.
“What?” my mother asked her. Her gaze darted between me and Hallie as she pieced things together.
“But if you two are dating,” my mother started. “That would make you …” she trailed off as her eyes landed on me.
“Mr. Old Fashioned, honey,” my father supplied. “That would make him Mr. Old Fashioned.”
“You know, now that you mention it,” my aunt said, “when you take into account how James only seems to drink Old Fashioneds, and that he just got back from the Hamptons, and didn’t he use your contacts, Eloise, to get a reservation atCrepitioa few weeks ago? It makes sense.”
“So does that mean … your next article is about this date?” My mother looked back at Hallie, her expression unreadable. “About our restaurant?”
“Well, I suppose so,” Hallie murmured. She hadretreated into herself. She was holding her breath as she waited for further questions.
“Well, I for one can’t wait for the article.” My grandfather spoke up for the first time since he greeted Hallie. “This is the publicity that this place needs. Didn’t we all just have a conversation a couple of days ago about this?”
Suddenly the focus was off my family realizing they knew all about my dating life as they discussed how much of a positive having their restaurant mentioned in a magazine likeSophisticatecould be. I watched Hallie visibly relax as my grandfather shot her a wink across the table.
