He twisted, pulling another knitted blanket from the sofa and draping it around his shoulders. “You’re talented.” After a beat, he added, “And it would be a shame if I didn't have anyone to antagonize in the next round.” He shrugged. “Maybe I just like looking at you.”
My heart tripped. “Dangerous words for a freshly engaged man,” I whispered under my breath. And into the flames. Hoping the words would burn away before they reached his ears.
But the little huff that was almost a grumble told me he had heard them. I could see him twisting his watch.
“Can you keep a secret?”
There it was again, another silly stumble my heart did for no apparent reason. “You’re wearing adult diapers?” I asked,stretching my toes towards the flames as I scooted backward, pushing against the coffee table, shoulder-to-shoulder with the enemy. “You actually don’t know how to read?”
He turned his face toward mine. “I’m serious.”
“Why would you tell me, of all people, a secret of yours?” I didn’t want to sound desperate to know what he wanted to tell me. I wanted to sound nonchalant. Indifferent.
“Maybe telling you, a person that cares so little, feels like it would have no consequences. Maybe I just need to get it off my chest. Maybe I just want someone to know the truth.”
“Okay then,” I breathed.
Our faces were close, his eyes so dark, I wanted to turn away. Instead, I forced myself to meet his stare. He looked away first.
“My relationship…the engagement…it’s a farce,” John finally said.
“Sounds like the depressing first words of an autobiography.”
He huffed a half-laugh. “Not that Viv isn’t lovely. She is just not…real. Not in that way.”
This was unfamiliar territory. Honest territory. It made me feel…nervous. “What does that mean?”
“It’s a PR stunt,” he said, emptying his cup and putting it on the side table. “I have…plans. She has plans. Books on the line, a movie deal… we both benefit.” He rubbed his face with one hand. “I’m telling you too much. I had too much to drink.”
“So you’re not really engaged?” I pushed.
John angled his body towards me, as if he wanted to see all of me.
He shook his head. “We don’t even live together.”
“Why not just have a real relationship?”
He smiled a bitter smile. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you all my secrets in one night, Nora.”
Dangerous words. Words that could mean different things. A promise. Of more secrets? Of more nights? He scanned meso intensely that I double-checked if I wore clothes. Something fluttered in my chest. It needed to be suffocated.
I shook my head. It didn’t matter. I couldn’t let myself get distracted. I was here for one reason only. Get this deal, get the check, save the shop. It was probably just another one of his tactics.
“What about you?” he continued. “Who is the Joe Fox to your Kathleen Kelly?”
It took me a moment to place the names.You’ve Got Mail. “I didn’t take you for a Meg Ryan fan.”
“You’re avoiding my question.”
My shoulders tensed. “There is none,” I said. A small white cloud puffed before me. The temperature must have dropped significantly. John seemed to notice, too. He scooted closer.
“We could go back in the hot tub.”
“You would like that, wouldn’t you?”
He let his gaze drift down my body. “Maybe I would.”
I elbowed him, trying to ignore the heat spreading in my body.
