AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Because I want him to hear her pitch first, and then see what it was lacking when he hears mine.” She is all delicious confidence. “Nicole taught me everything—which means I had a front-row seat to her weaknesses. And before you think I’m a horrible greedy human, she already told me to use them against her. Nicole appreciates a challenge and seems to be excited to have a new competitor in the ring.” Her smile drops away when she sees the muscle in my jaw jump. “What? Do you think I’m being a sleazy colleague? You have to understand, Nicole and I—”
“That’s not at all what I was thinking.”
“Then what is that look for?” she asks, picking up her glass. “Tell me the truth. I can handle it.”
“Okay.” I rest my forearms on the table and let my emotions reach my eyes as I stare into hers. “That look was the result of me wanting to rip your clothes off with my teeth and do very dirty things to you right here on this table when you talk like that.”
She chokes on the water—because whatever it was she was expecting me to say, it wasn’t that. When her coughing is under control, she yanks her folded cloth napkin from the table to wipe her mouth but doesn’t see that the fold is caught on the corner of the menu. Next thing we know, the menu is launched like a Frisbee across the restaurant. It sails to the table closest to ours, where it knocks over their glass of wine.
Before the waitstaff can blink, Nora is up and rushing to their table. She moves their dishes aside and soaks up the liquid with her rogue napkin, all while murmuring a wholehearted apology. She’s blending into the restaurant as much as a pink flamingo would blend into Wall Street.
A waitress comes to her side with fresh linens and is so stunned to see Nora there helping that she silently extends the cloths as Nora asks for them. I go help too, shifting plates of food so Nora can catchthe wine trying to roll off the table before it makes more of a mess. No one around us seems to know what to do but Nora—who is on a mission to single-handedly salvage their table.
“Holy shit,” the man sitting at the table says when he tilts his head up and sees me hovering over him. “You’re…you’re Derek Pender, right?”
“He is!” Nora says cheerfully. “Would you like to see his ID? It’s an unfairly good picture, to be honest.”
I give her a flat look.
“No, I—Ibelieve you. I mean…damn…you are a big dude.” He then grimaces. “Sorry, that was a weird thing to say. I’m a little tipsy because I was nervous about…” He glances at the table and our gazes all fall on a little red velvet box sitting to the side of the table.
Nora gasps with delight. “Did you two just get engaged?”
“Yes, we did,” says the woman with a fond smile at her drunk fiancé.
Nora launches into a series of congratulations, complimenting the woman on how beautiful she looks in her dress. She can tell immediately that it’s an antique engagement ring and asks if there is a story behind it. Five minutes later, the man has wrapped up an entire story about how the ring came from his grandmother and that his grandfather purchased it during the war and mailed it to her, asking her to save it for when he returned. He did return, and they had a beautiful family of five. Nora is crying. The woman is crying. The dude is crying. I’m…misty…but that’s all I’ll admit to.
“But you two just got married, didn’t you? I’ve seen the story of your secret elopement all over social media!” says the woman. “Can I see your ring? I bet it’s…” At this moment her eyes drop to Nora’s finger, and she sees that it’s empty except for the discreet little black line.
Nora’s smile doesn’t fade a bit, but I do notice that she grazes theinside of the tattoo with her thumb—like she’s tracing the line to feel something. Proof that it’s there. “We thought a tattoo would be a fun way to commemorate the spontaneous event.”
She looks up at me, and the gold in her eyes burns brighter than the green in this light. Even though she’s smiling, I see what she doesn’t want me to. The creeping reminder that this isn’t truly real. That whatever we are now started on a lie. That I never gave her a ring out of love. This was all to keep her job, and yes, a new relationship has bloomed out of it, but how will it withstand real life at home? Do we even have a chance when a lie was our beginning?
I pick up her left hand and bring it to my lips, kissing her tattoo ring and hoping Nora feels what I can’t say:It doesn’t matter how this started, it’s real for me.
My gaze moves behind Nora and I realize most of the restaurant is watching us. Not just with their eyes—their phones too. Our time here is up.
After giving my autograph and taking a picture with the couple, Nora asks the waiters to bring the couple any dessert and bottle of wine they want as a congratulations (and apology). Even when she’s not trying to, Nora is in agent mode, and it looks damn good on her.
When we’re back at the table, she smiles as if nothing out of the ordinary ever happened. “I’ve been thinking, Dere-Bear. Will you go to a club with me after this?”
“A club?” I ask—hesitancy tugging me. I haven’t done anything remotely close to partying ever since my injury. (1) Because I haven’t felt like it. Anxiety and stress over recovering to my fullest have been my guiding factors since the day I woke up from surgery. (2) I don’t want to appear flippant in the media. No one likes to see a guy with his career hanging in the balance out getting drunk in a club. (3)Because I haven’t missed it.
This time, Nora is the one to read my thoughts. She stares at meand tilts her head. “You’re allowed to be dedicated to your career, drink chamomile tea, and have fun too.”
I extend my hand to her. “Hello, pot? Kettle.”
“Exactly.Takes one to know one.” Her pink lips curve into a smile as she slaps my hand away. “Come with me. Let’s have fun together tonight.” Her words seep into my chest and pump like blood through my heart.
“Which version of us is going? Agent and client? Husband and wife? Or friends?”
Her face blooms. “All of them.”
After leaving the restaurant, we dipped into an Uber and headed to a nightclub in the touristy district of downtown Cancún.
Inside, it’s loud. Blue and purple lights stream through the dark, hazy, sweat-drenched atmosphere and reflect off mirrored surfaces. The place is full but not packed. Still, there are enough bodies in here to have me instinctively reaching for Nora’s hip as we walk.
“Let’s go get a drink!” she yells over the music. Her eyes are sparkling from the lights, and an addictive energy ripples off her. I haven’t seen her like this since college. Old memories and familiar sensations buzz to life.
