Page 63 of Take A Number
Norah sucks in a breath. “But Mom, Dean is my boyfriend. We spend most nights together, and he gets very sad when we’re apart.”
My chest shakes with silent laughter over Norah’s dramatic flourish. “What can I say? I’m a needy guy, Elaine.”
Elaine’s perfectly plucked brows furrow as she snorts through flared nostrils. “I suppose I could call and see if they can make room for one more.”
“I’m sure they’ll be able to manage,” Norah replies.
Elaine takes a step back from the counter and nods stiffly. “Fine then. Dinner is at seven on Saturday night at Jill’s Restaurant in the St. Julien hotel. It will be me and your father, Jim and Carol, and of course Nathaniel. He’s really looking forward to seeing you again, pumpkin. You two rushed off from our anniversary party so quickly he hardly got a word in with you.”
“I’m afraid that was my fault, Mrs. Donahue,” I interject, detesting Elaine’s scornful eyes on Norah. “It’s really hard for me to share your daughter these days.” I wink at Norah, who looks like she’s fighting back a laugh, before turning my attention back to Elaine.
“Well…please do try to control yourself on Saturday.” Her lips twitch with annoyance. “I must be going.”
She turns and hustles out of the bakery, and I find Norah smiling at me. “As far as fake boyfriends go…you don’t suck.”
Saturday night, Dean buzzes my apartment door at six thirty sharp. I straighten out my gray shift dress before hustling down the steps to meet him outside. The cool September night air hits my bare legs as I tighten my black suede jacket around my shoulders.
“Hello, beautiful,” Dean says while propped against his SUV like he’s posing for a catalog ad for Range Rover. He’s dressed in dark slacks and a white button-down with charcoal piping along the seams. It’s a little less flare than his usual style, but with his dark-framed glasses and freshly trimmed beard, he’s hot as ever.
I self-consciously finger-comb my short blond curls, suddenly feeling like a slob next to Dean. “I didn’t have Rachael’s help tonight.”
“You don’t need it.” Dean opens the passenger door for me. “You look stunning. Stop fidgeting.”
I slide into the car and hit him with dubious eyes. “This is my normal demeanor when preparing for an evening with my mother. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.”
Dean laughs, eyeing my legs with a dirty look before closing the door and walking around the car to the driver’s seat. His car smells like him: expensive, manly, and new. I could get used to it.
He heads down the road toward the restaurant and begins rambling to me about a big meeting he had with one of his clients earlier today. Talking about our jobs has sort of become a new normal for us the past several days. Either via text or one of the several times we’ve seen each other. It’s been kind of nice. Normally, Rachael is my sounding board for all things business, but Dean actually has really good business insights and has been extremely helpful with all the Denver bakery preparations. I’m useless when it comes to his hedge fund issues, but he seems to just appreciate that I’m willing to listen. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say this is how a real relationship feels. Especially considering we haven’t gone a single evening without seeing each other since our food fight night. We’re still sticking with the no-sleeping-over rule, but we’re definitely not giving each other a lot of space.
Last night he invited me over to rectify the fact that I had never seen the movieGood Will Hunting. However, we were only a few minutes into the movie before I was naked on Dean’s beanbag chair with his face between my thighs and his name screaming from my lips. By the time he was done, all I could hear was Matt Damon’s voice in the background asking, “How do you like them apples?”
I can say with absolute certainty that I liked those apples very, very much.
The point is, I’m feeling good about this fake relationship situation. I’m finally finding some much-needed balance in my life between work and play. I’m hoping I can apply this newfound freedom in my life without requiring a fake friends-with-benefits boyfriend.
However, for now I’m making myself live in the moment. I don’t need to worry about how Dean and I are going to go back to being friends after this or how we’re going to deal with our official breakup when the time comes. I’m just going to enjoy this while I have it.
We pull up to the St. Julien hotel and make our way through the lobby to Jill’s. It’s a dark and luxurious restaurant with a French bistro feel to it. White linen tablecloths and elegant glassware on every table. The food is excellent, and it’s a place people like my father and Nate’s father would take clients to.
The hostess ushers us over to the table where my parents and Jim and Carol are already seated, despite the fact that we’re five minutes early.
“Pumpkin!” my dad bellows as he sees Dean and me approach. He stands up and walks over from the far side of the table to greet me. He looks me up and down before leaning in to kiss my cheek. “You look radiant, Norah. Have you been out in the sun a lot this week?”
I pull away and laugh. “No, can’t say that I have.”
“Huh, you look different. Glowing almost. Isn’t my daughter glowing, Jim?” My dad turns to Nate’s dad, who rises from his seat across from the one my father vacated.
“She looks healthy,” Jim says, combing his gray mustache and dipping his head toward me. “Nice to see you again, Norah.”
“Nice to see you, Jim.” I look at my mother and Carol seated in the middle of the rectangular table with glasses of red wine in hand. “Hi, Mom. Carol. You all remember Dean?”
“Hello everyone.” Dean reaches across me to shake Jim’s hand while my father claps him on the back and asks, “Well, what libations are we having tonight?”
“Whiskey tonight, son. I tried that IPA beer you recommended, and I just can’t do it.”
“You have to try it a few times. It grows on you.”
“It feels like it’s growing legs in my stomach.” My dad grimaces in remembrance.
