Page 75 of River
“You want one of each gender?”
“Yes.” Jack sipped his glass of wine. “And that’s where you come in. Style is essential to me, and with you, I know my children would be the best dressed in London.” He laughed as if what he’d said was a joke, but I knew he meant every word.
“What about you, how many children would you like?”
My mouth felt dry, and no words came when I tried to speak. “Ehh.”
“You’re taken aback by my directness. I apologize. I’m a man who likes to set goals and pursue them with vigor. It seems more honest of me to make my intentions clear from the beginning. I’m not someone who likes to waste my time, and I should tell you that it wasn’t a coincidence that Kylie invited me to your party.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve had my eyes on you for quite some time, but I had to find a way to get close enough to ask you out.”
“How long have you known Kylie?”
“She works for me.”
Two waiters brought plates over, and with synchronized movements, they lifted the silver top off and presented the dish.
One said, “Tonight, you’re about to enjoy Terrine de foie gras, with confit de canard, crispy pistachios, and prunes marinated twelve months in Armagnac.” As the waiter spoke, he stood as straight as a soldier, his clothes and manners impeccable.
A sommelier came over to pour a second glass of wine, and again he explained about the grape as Jack sat swirling the wine around, sniffing and tasting like it was a competition. I looked down at my plate when Jack began discussing aroma and texture with the sommelier. I’d dated enough men like Jack to know this ritual was a way for them to show off and position themselves as intelligent and knowledgeable. Someone like Noah would be able to fight if I was ever in danger. Jack, on the other hand, would always be able to pick out the best wine.
My thoughts went back to the last night I’d spend with Noah on the beach. We’d eaten cheap street food under the stars to the sound of waves rolling in. Noah had gone all out on the most expensive wine the local kiosk had, an Australian Merlot for seventeen dollars. That night, I’d spilled some on my dress, and we’d laughed about it. We’d sipped from plastic cups and been free from worry about laughing too loud or not looking our best.
Scanning the restaurant, I suddenly felt suffocated from the classical music, from the low conversations around the room as if we were in church and might be judged if we had fun and swung our arms too much or laughed too loud.
“You’re quiet,” Jack said when the waiter finally left our table.
“Am I?”
“Was our wine talk boring you?” Jack said with a laugh as if the idea was absurd.
I gave him a polite smile.
“It’s always fun when you get to correct a sommelier,” Jack said and picked up his knife and fork. “Bon appetit.”
God, he was arrogant and conceited. The thought that we had five courses to go before I could get out of here was depressing. I would much rather be alone than be here with him, and I was too uninterested in this dinner to tell him I preferred not to eat meat.
“I had something very interesting happen to me this week,” Jack said. “Well, besides meeting you, of course.”
“Do tell.”
“A competitor offered to buy my company. The price wasn’t right, so I had my lawyers tell them…”
I zoned out a little as Jack went on another long tirade about his own brilliance.
“Are you even listening?” he asked after a while.
“I’m sorry, I was just thinking about the last date I went on six months ago in Bali.”
“Yes?”
“We sat on a beach with a cheap bottle of wine and some street food,”
Jack smirked with satisfaction. “Well, luckily for you, I can afford a different standard.”
I took a bite of a prune but felt it grow in my mouth. I hated that Jack had belittled my date with Noah when it was the best date I’d been on in my life.
