Page 94 of Is She Really Going Out with Him?
Where to go on a date with someone you hate
Is there going to be a movie version of The Spanish Love Deception?
Chapter 31
Of all the dates I’vehad, this one, with Noah, has to be my least anticipated. I am not relishing an evening of being lectured about my “responsibilities as a bin owner.”
Lottie arrives to babysit and makes me change twice, telling me I have to look like I “made an effort.” When Noah knocks on the door, I am glad I changed, because hehasmade an effort. He’s freshly shaved in a clean checked shirt and well-fitted jeans. There’s not a sock-and-sandal combo in sight.
“Oh wow, hi,” I say, remembering how attractive Noah is when he’s not wearing weird clothes and being a grump.
“Ready to go?” he asks, still terse even in a button-down.
“So, I thought we’d get the bus into town, there’s one in eight minutes.”
“I am aware of the bus timetable,” Noah says.Oh boy, this is going to be challenging.
As we walk along the pavement and turn toward the bus stop, a car pulls up on the other side of the road. I pause because I recognize the driver. Will. What is he doing here?I stop and watch as he gets out of the car with a huge bunch of giant pink peonies.
“Hi?” I call across to him in confusion.
“Oh. Hi.” He crosses the road toward us, looking back and forth between me and Noah.
“This is my neighbor Noah,” I explain. I already told him about my next date, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise. “Noah, this is my colleague Will.”
“Hi.” Will nods toward Noah, but there’s a coolness in his gaze as he sizes him up. “Sorry to interrupt. Bad timing. You disappeared yesterday. I, um—” Will holds out the flowers, and it’s adorable how awkward he looks. “A thank-you for yesterday, for helping me out.”
Noah looks between us, perhaps curious about what I did to deserve such a decadent bunch of flowers.
“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that, I was happy to help,” I tell him.
“Simon insisted,” Will says, his eyes now focused on me. “I’ve watched the footage you shot, it’s perfect.”
“Sorry, perfect?” I ask with a smile, my finger to my ear. “No feedback, no notes?”
“No notes,” he says with a grin, our eyes drinking each other in.
Noah clears his throat. “Our bus is in four minutes,” he says.
I don’t want to take a bunch of flowers into town with me, but I also don’t want to leave Noah and Will alone together while I rush back to put them inside. As if sensing my indecision, Will nods toward my house. “Is anyone home? I can drop them in for you.”
“My sister is there, that would be great. Thank you.”
He holds my gaze a moment longer, as though he wants to say more but can’t with Noah here. Noah makes another impatient “humph” noise, so I quickly pass Will the flowers.
“Well, have fun,” Will says, then turns slowly back toward my house, letting the flowers drop down to his side.
“Sorry about that,” I say to Noah as we walk on toward the bus stop.
“Who was that?” Noah asks. “The man who sent you the clay?”
“Yes.”
“He’s in love with you,” Noah says, as though pointing out that it’s raining.
“No, he isn’t. We work together.” I know that’s not strictly true, but I’m not going to tell Noah about my relationship with Will. “It’s complicated.”
“Those are not thank-you flowers,” Noah says, and there’s a knowing warmth in his voice now. “Thank-you flowers are lilies or carnations, roses of a moderate size. I know flowers, and those flowers say a lot more than thank you.”
