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“Going on a date. In public.”
“Our first date” he says, like it’s no big deal. But when he reaches for his glass of water, there’s a shake in his fingers.
If someone would have told me a week ago I would be on a date with Everett, I would have blushed and laughed it off. But here we are.
“How was work today?” he asks.
“Exhausting.” I lean an elbow on the table and rest my head on my hand. “It was a lot of managing emotions and decisions and boundaries. Lots of questioning looks I had to push past. Mr. Delancey and I are still trying to thaw that last little bit of a Cold War we have going on, but I think he just needs some time. He’s like an uncle to me and I know what I did must have stung a little bit.”
He nods. We stare into each other’s eyes for so long that we lapse into a silence that slowly turns somber. I know what we need to talk about, but that doesn’t mean I’m prepared.
“Ev,” I say, but then the waiter comes and I pause so he can take our orders. Once he’s gone, taking our menus with him, Everett loosens the knot under his shirt collar and with one hand slowly undoes his tie. I thought him rolling up his shirt sleeves was hot, but this is…this is something else. Is he for real right now? The tail of his tie flicks down into his lap and he slowly rolls it up.
“Stop trying to seduce the restaurant,” I whisper.
He smiles at me coyly and undoes his top button, showing me just where to direct my hands if I want them to dive under his collar and feel the smoothness of his neck and the tops of his shoulders. He adjusts his shirt side to side, just enough for me to see a familiar silver chain.
My first thought is, “This sexy man is all mine” and my second thought is a heart-squeezing, “He’s wearing it.”
I look down at my left hand where I still proudly wear my ring. After all, I made a statement and there was nothing in that statement to imply that once we were found out that I would be ending my marriage. So for all intents and purposes, we are a happily married couple in the honeymoon phase.
But that ring on my hand, that ring around his neck, they mean so much more to us. Because they’re not well and truly symbols of promised love. Not yet.
Everett takes my hand and interlaces his fingers with mine.
“Here’s the thing,” he says. There’s just enough allowance in that statement to give me hope. “I signed a two-year contract and I’m going to have to pay the value of it if I don’t show up on the job. It’s a massive boatload of money and the contract is non-transferable. So, I’m still leaving.”
“I’ll pay it,” I reply.
“We’re not going to do that, Laina.” He kisses my hand, a conciliatory gesture. “I could pay it if I was ready to take on my parents’ money. But it’s not about getting out of the contract. I think we would benefit from dating and figuring us out without all the formality of being CEO and bodyguard. We should have fun, make more good memories, figure out what we want out of our jobs and our lives. There’s no rush.”
I nod, squeezing his hand in an effort to also squeeze down the rising lump in my throat. I know what he’s saying makes sense. I do have a lot to figure out with my role at Milenna and I want him to feel free to pursue what’s important to him. I just wish it wasn’t so far away, for so long.
“But I don’t ever want to divorce you. I love you, so that wouldn’t make sense anyways.”
I’m about to create a very steamy public display of affection in this little Italian restaurant, but Everett drops my hand and puts a finger to my lips to hold me back.
“Therefore-”
“How many conjunctive phrases do you have?” I ask impatiently.
“Therefore,” he says with a smile. “What I propose is that we date long-distance and act like we are not married. I think we deserve the growth that comes from dating. I for one need to come to terms with the reality of being with you, instead of the fantasy version I’ve built up in my head.”
“Oh, do tell me about the fantasy,” I say in a low voice, running my finger down his jaw.
“We never argue, you always take my side, I always make the best possible decisions, and you are constantly in awe of my alpha male prowess.”
I laugh out loud, earning myself a gorgeous grin from Everett.
“What else?” I ask, sensing there’s more. Everett takes a sip of water and nods.
“If we’re as good together as we think we are, then we have a second wedding. Because I want a do-over at proposing to you and a do-over of getting to kiss my bride.” His eyes are flashing with excitement and, in my peripheral, I see his hand resting on the table, his fingers counting in pattern. “What do you think?”
I go through a very quick rainbow of emotions that I can sum up as being upset. Upset by how in love with him I am, that I am totally willing to go to the ends of my emotional earth for him. But also, two years of long distance? It must be written all over my face because Everett can barely contain his grin as he delivers his last line, a direct quote from Mission Impossible.
“I can see that you’re very upset.”
My eyes fly wide with mock rage and Everett, smart man that he is, dives in for a kiss before I can act on it. Do I love him? Yes. Do I want him? Mercy, yes. Is two years a very, very, very long time? Also yes.
