Page 68 of Surrender
“Drinks?” the woman asks.
Gareth orders a water and I ask for a wine. She returns a few minutes later with our drinks, then puts in our food orders.
“This feels different,” I say, sipping my white wine thoughtfully and eyeing Gareth from across the table. “Being out of your house and around society together. I’m not sure how to act.”
He gives me a confused look. “What do you mean?”
I shrug. “Well, like, did you want me to order for you just now? Am I still in control?”
My question has his brow furrowing. Before he has a chance to reply, light from the entrance blasts in and Hobo’s loud voice booms into our quiet sanctuary.
“Hullo, neighbour! Fancy seeing you here!” I turn to see Hobo stepping back and gesturing for Brandi to walk inside ahead of him. The two make their way over to our table.
My cheeks feel flaming hot as Gareth gives Hobo a forced sort of smile. “Hiya, Hobo. Brandi.”
“Gareth.” Brandi smiles and flicks her curious eyes to me, her blonde ponytail swinging as she adds, “Hi, Sloan.”
“How are you guys?” I ask, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and attempting to appear casual.
“We’re super!” Hobo looks straight at me with a beaming smile. “Thought we’d nip in for a bite since neither of us could cook if our lives depended on it. This is great, though! Now we can have a double date!”
“Oh, this isn’t a date.” I look nervously at Brandi, who feels like she’s inspecting me. I glance at Gareth for some help, but he remains silent, waiting for what I’m about to say next. “Gareth and I are just having a work-related dinner.”
“A work-related dinner?” Hobo repeats, clearly not convinced. “That’s interesting. What are you discussing?”
“Oh, erm…” I wrack my brain for an excuse, but I’m seriously blanking. My job is not the kind that requires me to wine and dine my current customers. I wine and dine prospective clients occasionally, but not people like Gareth.
“We’re just friends having dinner.” Gareth’s deep voice saves me from my misery. His eyes are trained on mine in such a serious manner that I struggle to know what he’s thinking. “Sloan was delivering some clothes and mentioned she was hungry. I told her this place has the best fish and chips around, so I brought her here.”
Brandi doesn’t look at all convinced, but Hobo smiles brightly and says, “Super! You won’t mind if we join you then.”
Hobo shoves into the booth, forcing Gareth around the corner next to me so that our knees are touching. Brandi slides in next to Hobo, and the four of us begin what I can only describe as the most awkward non-double date I’ve ever experienced.
They all instantly begin talking soccer. Brandi chimes in like one of the guys, equally as passionate about the sport as the men. I listen intently, actually really intrigued because I’ve never taken an interest in Gareth’s career up until this point. The majority of my clients are wealthy athletes or business moguls, and I find the less I know, the better. And I never want to come off like a fan. My clients get that enough. They don’t need it from me, too.
I also think I was resistant to the sport of soccer when I came to England because Callum loved it so much. It represented one of the British customs I was resentful of at a time when I missed our life in Chicago. But hearing these guys speak so passionately has me kind of warming up to the sport.
“So, Sloan, when did you say those dresses of mine are coming in again?” Brandi’s blue eyes are wide and friendly.
“They are in already!” I waggle my eyebrows in excitement. “And they are so fierce. There’s one that I think is going to look fantastic on you, but I’m not saying a word until you try them all on. I think I have you scheduled for Monday, right?”
She nods with a secret twinkle in her eyes. “Yes, that’s what I remember. The event feels like it will be a bit of a Cinderella moment. I’m not really a girly girl, but the idea of getting dressed up for a proper night out is hard not to get butterflies over.”
“I don’t know much about the event, except that I think almost every single one of my clients is attending,” I state with a huff. “Any time there’s a black tie and red carpet event, it’s like my company’s Super Bowl. My business partner and I have been swamped getting everyone’s samples in and final decisions altered.”
“So, is that why you’re wining and dining our honouree here?” Hobo teases, clapping Gareth on the shoulder.
I look over at Gareth in confusion. “Honouree? What do you mean?”
Gareth’s jaw tightens as he narrows a steely look at Hobo. “Nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” Hobo jeers, not the least bit intimidated by Gareth’s glower. “Our captain here is receiving the big award that night. He’s been named Player of the Year on behalf of the Football Press Association.”
My jaw drops. “Seriously?”
Gareth shrugs like he’s in pain as Hobo answers for him. “Seriously. He’s a super stud. I can’t believe he hasn’t been bragging to you about it. Our coach is over the moon.”
“W—wow,” I stammer, then my face falls as realisation hits. Gareth hasn’t requested styling for this event. I didn’t even know he is attending. Did he hire someone else because we’re sleeping together? “Gareth, why haven’t you requested styling from me?”
