Page 29 of Secrets in Love
The final punch to the junk? My brother’s gushy delirium over his blooming relationship with Scarlett Grant. I wanted to be happy for him. I really did. But for some reason, I couldn’t.
Was it jealousy? No. I didn’t think so.
Was I lying to myself? Most likely.
But I was alone. There was no one else to lie to.
Perhaps the sickening stench of love in the air was why I conceded despite lingering apprehension and a month of to-ing and fro-ing. The meal itself wasn’t the most daunting prospect. It was what happened next. After all, if things went well with Christian, I would be alone no more. And as for my V card… Well, it would finally be history.
A prospect that was equally exciting and terrifying.
“You look stunning, Evie. That dress is fabulous. Very sexy.” Christian’s dreamy voice drew my eyes from the one dark and oddly long leg hair my waxing missed and onto his boob-roaming eyes.
“Oh, this old thing? I’m glad you approve.” It wasn’t old. It was brand new, incredible, and so expensive the tags sat on my bedside table in the hope that I could somehow reattach them and return it to the store. Soft black satin with a cowl neck and low-cut back that exposed the perfect amount of skin made me feel sexy but not slutty. It was a rare feeling for me—so was my being completely overdressed. When Christian mentioned it was the hottest new place, I presumed it would be dark and moody, serving pretentious canapes and bite-size mains, not gourmet Indian street food in a cool, bright, and colorful party zone. Staff buzzed around like busy bees, and Christian seemed to absorb the chaotic energy. We hadn’t been seated for twenty minutes, and he’d already disappeared into the restroom three times.
“So, what have you been doing outside of work this week?” he asked as he resumed his seat. “Anything exciting?” He sexily tore off a chuck of hot garlic roti and popped it in his mouth. Natealwayslikedroti.He dipped it in milk before eating.Takes the stang out of it, Gidge,he’d declare.
Stop thinking about Nate.
Christian frantically waved his hands before my face. “Hello, Earth to Evie.”
“Oh, sorry, umm… What did you ask?”
“I asked what you’ve been doing this week. I really hope you pay more attention than this at work, Evie.”
“Right, sorry…umm… What have I been doing? Umm. Well, my Aunt Jocelyn is building her dream home on a gorgeous block of land upstate, and my brother, Finn, an architect, and his girl, Scarlett, also an architect, are working on the concept. When we stayed in Tarrytown recently, Jocie was asking my opinion about the design. I gave her some suggestions, just little things I thought would best suit the site and improve its livability. Most of what I suggested will be incorporated into the design. It’s all very exciting.”
Christian shook his head and condescendingly smiled. “It is exciting. Evie. More for your aunt than for you, though. It’s not like it’s your house.”
“No, you’re right. It’s not my house. But she is my family, and it means a lot to me that she trusts my opinion.”
He scoffed and nodded again. “So, what were these magnificent suggestions? A koala lookout spot? A Vegemite storage room?”
Patronizing son of a…If I had a dollar for every time I’d been called mouthy and loud, Icould have builta house for myself. “You know what—”
“Here we go, guys. Hope you enjoy.” Halting my rant before I could really wind up, our waitress returned with our meals. At first, I was pissed to have missed my chance, but by the time a bright-orange bowl of mango chutney was placed on the table, I’d decided it was probably a good thing. Freely giving opinions seemed to be a turn-off, and learning to keep my temper in check was vital if I was ever to stand a chance with Christian or any other Nate—I mean, man. So, I swallowed the bitter-tasting vitriol and filled my mouth with food instead.
We were at Dhamaka, one of New York’s best restaurants. Dropping the smartass routine, Christian was utterly charming for most of the meal. He’d insisted on ordering for me, which I begrudgingly allowed, and had chosen gurda kapoor for me and a Champaran meat dish with something called gucci vegetable pulao. Whatever it was must have been really hot. It was wreaking havoc on his sinuses. He sniffed like a madman.
I eyed my meal with suspicion, but thankfully it tasted better than it looked, which was not great.
“What exactly is gurda kapoor?” I asked the waitress as she cleared our table. “It had an interesting texture I couldn’t place.”
“Goat kidney, testicles, red onion, and pao.”
“Testicles… I just swallowed a goat’s balls?”
“You most certainly did. It’s probably a good thing we don’t include the English translation on the menu. I don’t think it would be so popular if people knew.”
Together we enjoyed a good chuckle. HotBoss didn’t. And as soon as she left, he turned on me. “Could you have said that any louder? You’re not out in the fields with the sheep now, Evie. We are in one of the top restaurants in the world. You need to use your inside voice.”
Like the turtle sperm potentially lurking in my upcoming desert, I pulled myself back into my shell. I was doing it again, embarrassing Christian in public. He was a seasoned traveler—a well-known and respected member of the Manhattanitcrowd.
Remember,you should be thankful he is taking you out. He is showing you the better side of life. He wants to make you better too.
Christian’s mood quickly shifted. Nostalgia of past glories and reminders of how lucky I was to work beneath him seemed to really pick him up. It didn’t do a lot for me, though, and I was down to the last dregs of my already shaky confidence when a young couple passed our table. “I’m so proud of you, babe. You can do anything,” crooned the clearly smitten guy, clinging to his girl’s hand.
My attention snapped back to my date when he clicked his fingers in my face. “Hey! Evie!” He then took hold of my chin and held my face to his. “Didn’t those parents of yours teach you any manners before they died? I bring you to a place like this, and not only do you not listen to me, but you check out other guys.”
