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“Well to be fair,” Mary Anne says after she’s done chewing, “you have a private chef. It’s not like you need to go out to eat like the rest of us plebs.”
“He’s not mine! He works at Rosethorn, and I’ll only get to enjoy his food for a few more weeks.”
Tori frowns. “What do you mean?”
“When I leave, I’ll have to adjust to the real world again. Soup from a can, macaroni from a box—that sort of thing.”
She shakes her head as if she still doesn’t get it. “But why would you leave Rosethorn?”
I shrug and reach for another fry. “Because it’s always been a temporary position, a seasonal thing. I doubt Cornelia will need me once the summer ends and everyone shutters for winter.”
Mary Anne nods. “Winters here are pretty bleak. A lot of the shops and restaurants shut down and reopen in the spring.”
“Does Nicholas know your plans?” Tori asks, glancing behind me.
“Why do you ask?”
“Oh…well, he’s headed in our direction, and it looks like he has a bone to pick with you.”
I freeze with my fry dipped in ketchup then turn to glance over my shoulder.
Sure enough, there’s Nicholas strolling across the patio, drawing stares. He’s ridiculously handsome today in jeans and a blue and white striped shirt rolled to his elbows. His dark hair and piercing eyes match perfectly with the black leather watch on his wrist.
I don’t process his presence until he’s at our table, bending down to kiss my cheek.
“Maren,” he says, greeting me before he goes around the table and does the same to Tori and Mary Anne.
“Nicky! What are you doing here?” Tori asks excitedly.
“Hunting down Maren, apparently,” he says, catching my eye.
My cheeks burn and I look down at my food like it’s the most interesting thing I’ve ever seen.
“Stay, will you?” Tori asks. “We have room and our food only just arrived. We have more than enough to share with you.”
“Speak for yourself,” Mary Anne teases, staking claim to her lobster roll.
“You can have some of mine,” I offer, pushing my plate toward him as he takes the last chair at our square table, between me and Mary Anne.
“Thanks, but I’ll just order.”
He waves down our waiter and asks for Georges Bank scallops and a Grey Sail IPA.
When the waiter’s gone, Nicholas leans back in his chair, cool as a cucumber. I peer over at him, and his entire demeanor throws me off balance. Is he mad at me? If not, why am I so nervous?
“So you said you were here to hunt down Maren. Now that you’ve got her, what do you plan to do with her?” Tori teases.
He narrows his eyes on me. “I’m not sure yet.”
They laugh, but I settle on a forced smile.
“What do you guys think I should do?” he continues, gaze still on me. “I kept waiting for her to call me this week, but she never did. Now, here I am, showing up uninvited. A guy can only pursue a woman so long before he starts to feel silly.”
“It’s not as if you called me either!” I protest, trying to stop them from jumping to his side. “Well, okay…once.”
“I left a message too,” he adds.
“Sounds like a classic case of one person being more into it than the other,” Tori responds, as confident as a judge presiding over a hearing. “What’s it going to be, Maren? Are you going to put Nicky out of his misery?”
I laugh as if the notion is completely preposterous. “Believe me, if anyone’s breaking hearts in this scenario, it’s not me.”
He flinches in surprise. “What do you mean by that?”
I turn to Tori, looking for backup. “In all the years you’ve known Nicholas, how often has he been the one to break up with a girl?”
“Umm, let’s see…with Viv, you broke up with her, right?” She looks to Nicholas for confirmation, but he doesn’t offer any. “And then with Lauren, yeah, you did it…and—”
“All right.” He holds up his hands. “I fail to see why anecdotes about my previous relationships should have any bearing on what’s going on with Maren.”
Mary Anne nods. “I’m actually on his side on this. It’d be one thing if he cheated on every girlfriend in the past—” She pauses. “Wait, you haven’t, have you?”
“No.”
“So yeah, just because he’s been the one to end the relationships doesn’t make him a bad guy or a bad boyfriend.”
Boyfriend.
“Does anyone need another drink?” I ask, taking a lengthy swig of mine.
Tori must recognize my desperation because she carries the conversation off toward a new exhibit at her gallery. I sit silently, trying not to notice the way Nicholas keeps peering over at me, the way his leg inches toward mine under the table.
This week has been important for me, our forced distance bringing a few things into sharp clarity. Nicholas is a force to be reckoned with, and I didn’t fall for him as much as get swept up in him. It’s why he’s so tempting, even now. I wish I could have answered his calls this week. I wish I could have holed myself up in my room and talked to him on the phone, letting his sexy voice wash over me like a tidal wave.
