Page 34 of Holiday Wedding
Sweetheart?
My mind reels, trying to absorb what’s happening. Dean ignores my speechlessness. He leans across the table with his hand out. “You must be Eddie. Pleased to meet you. I’m Jenny’s boyfriend, Dean.”
Excuse me? What?
I gasp, my eyes flying to his.
Dean stares back calmly with an expression that reads, “trust me.”
The shock that is no doubt on my face is mirrored on Eddie’s. His mouth has dropped open in a most unattractive way. He blinks rapidly, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. The two men shake, and, judging by the wince on Eddie’s face, Dean squeezes his hand hard.
“Boyfriend?” Eddie has a wrinkle between his brows as his gaze bounces from Dean to me and back again. “When did you start dating?”
“We’re not,” is what I say in my head, but my mouth says, “It’s been, uh, about, um, a while now?” I turn to Dean for help.
He smoothly interjects, “For several months. As soon as the two of you broke up, actually.”
Eddie blanches at that, his features pinched. His hand tightens on his coffee cup and a not-so-nice part of me revels in his obvious discomfort.
Dean wraps his arm around my shoulders, sending my entire body into heat stroke. He says, “The minute I heard Jenny was available, I swept in.” I look at him, searching for the lie. Surely it’s written all over his face, but no,Dean meets my gaze and stares intently. “I’d been waiting forever to ask her out. When I finally saw my opportunity, you better believe I jumped at it.” Then, to my absolute shock, he plants a kiss on the side of my head. Puts his lips to my hair with a loud smack.
“Oh…uh…I had no idea,” stutters Eddie, anger replacing his earlier disbelief. He sends me an accusatory glare from across the table. “Jenny didn’t tell me.”
“She didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” Dean replies. He leans toward Eddie, his laser-sharp focus on my boss.
Eddie shrinks in his seat.
Dean continues, “Given how you’re still single, and she’s moved on. She was trying to spare you. That’smyJenny for you. Kind to a fault.” Dean’s hand lightly rubs my shoulder, and I might pass out from the sensation. “I’m sure you wouldn’t ask about her personal life anyway, right, Eddie? Since your relationship is purely professional these days. Your Human Resources Department would find talk about romantic topics to be highly inappropriate. Isn’t that true?”
Eddie swallows so loud that I can hear it from where I sit. “Yeah—I mean—I guess. The newspaper doesn’t really encourage that.”
“Good,” says Dean with grim satisfaction. “No more discussions about Jenny’s love life. Glad that’s settled.” A long pause where the two men engage in some kind of staring contest.
Eddie breaks first, glancing away with a guilty flush. “Fine,” he mutters agreement.
Dean claps his hands together, so loudly that the people in the booths around us turn to see what the commotion is about.
“Great! Let’s eat!” he declares and waves the server over to take our order.
Dean and Eddie shake hands again on the sidewalk outside the restaurant after lunch is over. Even though they’ve mostly gotten along while we ate, Dean must squeeze Eddie’s hand hard again because Eddie rubs it with a grimace when they let go.
While they’re distracted, I pop a hard mint in my mouth and suck on it, watching as they say good-bye. Eddie moves in like he’s going to hug me, butDean stiffens and steps in front of me. I lean around his bulky frame and give Eddie a small wave. “See you back in L.A.”
Eddie grins. The gesture sends a chill down my back. “Don’t worry, Jenny. I’ll be back to check up on you.” With a cheery salute, he starts off down the street, winding his way through the crowd as he heads toward the subway.
Dean stays close, his arm brushing mine. Once Eddie’s out of eyesight, Dean takes a large step away. I try not to take it personally, but his sudden distance stings.
I spin to confront him. “What was that?” I ask, my hands on my hips.
“What?” He blinks innocently.
The New York lunch crowd flows around us. Women in smart outfits with sensible shoes and men who wear heavy overcoats. More snow is expected later today. I motion Dean to move closer to the restaurant, so we can talk without getting jostled. He inches over until we’re pressed against the large glass window. A glance inside shows they’ve already seated new customers at the table we just left.
“Why aren’t you with Caleb?” I scan up and down the bustling street, almost expecting Caleb to be parked in his car, but he’s not here.
“He went straight home,” Dean says calmly. “I’ll catch up to him before he leaves for the theater.”
I press up onto the balls of my feet to reach eye level with Dean.
