Page 83 of Love Lessons
“Really? Then why do you keep tugging on that tie?” I nudge his hand away from the knot in the silk. It’s a blue tie with tiny yellow flowers on it. I chose it myself. “Leave this alone. It’s perfect.”
“Wearing a tie is never perfect,” he argues. “I got no trouble with women’s fashion. But I’d wear joggers to this opera if you let me.”
“But we didn’t,” Charli says cheerfully. “Now everybody in the coach.”
We sit in four rows of three, Ian and I next to each other, his hand resting lovingly on my knee.
Everyone looks elegant tonight. “Hockey players clean up well, don’t they?” Heidi Jo says.
“Yes, we do,” Charli agrees, the diamond glinting on her finger. She’s wearing a slit-leg crepe dress in a sleek shade of midnight blue. Not only does it make her skin look luminous, but when I brought it over to their apartment for her to try on, she declared it “surprisingly comfortable,” which is high praise from Charli.
As I watch, Neil takes her hand and gives her a happy smile.
That smile is something I feel in the pit of my stomach. That smile isgoals. I take a calming breath. But then I also take an unconscious glance at Ian, who… is looking at his phone. Not at me.
And that’s fine. It is what it is.
“Hey Ian, you’re going to break that thing,” Castro says as we roll down another pristine Italian road.
“What?” Ian grunts, his attention still on his phone.
“They won’t announce the trade any faster just because you keep refreshing your email.”
Ian raises his middle finger without even looking at Castro. “It’s not your ass swinging in the wind, is it?”
“I wonder what Vegas is like this time of year?” Anton asks. “Let’s check the weather. Oh, look at that. 107 degrees?”
“You dick,” Ian grumbles.
“Hey, I’m just teasing.” Anton reaches up from the row behind us and squeezes Ian’s shoulder. “We just don’t know why you’re so fixated onthistrade. The possibility is always there. And yet here we still are together.”
Ian looks out the window, not answering the question. He isn’t an unfeeling man. I don’t believe that anymore. But he tries to pretend he is, and I think I know why he’s so distracted. This trade comes at a difficult moment for him.
That’s your fault, my critical voice reminds me.Nice job.
My own phone lights up with a text. It’s from Danforth.
Hi V! Are you back from your trip? Any chance you could find me a new tux shirt before the gala? Mine’s old now, and you’re so good at stuff like this.He adds a winking emoji.
Somehow, I feel more irritated than flattered. Did he invite me to the gala simply to ask this favor?
No, that’s ridiculous. Presumably he’s been sourcing all his own clothes for the past three years. I decide to give him the benefit of the doubt, at least for now. I’m still keeping my options open. Maybe I’ll date him. Maybe I’ll even seduce him.
Hi D!I write back.I’m not back yet but if you email me your measurements, I’ll find one in time for the gala.
I sneak another glance at Ian, thinking of all the advice he’d given me on the topic of seduction. And I force myself to admit that it’s advice that Ian genuinely intends for me to use on other men. Like Danforth.
It’s a sobering thought. If Ian had feelings for me, he’d say so. That’s the kind of man he is.
Seduction is all about anticipation, he’d said. With that in mind, I add one more text for Danforth.I found a stunning dress for this event. I’d show you a photo, but that would be cheating…
That’s it. That’s all I’m giving him. I tuck the phone away, so I won’t be tempted to see if he replied.
* * *
When we arriveat the Arena di Verona, Ian helps me out of the coach with gentle hands. I’ll miss those hands after this trip. But now is not the moment to dwell on that, because he’s leading me through a stone archway into an ancient colosseum.
“Wow,” I gasp. “This looks like the set ofBen Hur.”
