Three Months Later
“... and then there we were, all of us, fallingintothe water, all of our clothes on, of course—in the river, fully dressed!” Jared Van Heeth lurched into peals of laughter. “It was ahoot, I tell you.”
“Oh ... I bet it was.” I forced myself to drudge up a weak chuckle, trying to remember what the hell he’d been talking about. Something about crew and his college buddies and ... God only knew what else.
I met my mom’s eyes across the table. She quirked one eyebrow at me in silent solidarity, and then she blinked once, slowly, like a cat. That was our long-time signal for get-me-the-hell-out-of-here. It was nice to know that old Jared was capable of boring not just one but two generations of Simmons women.
Taking a deep breath, I was about to ask him to drive me back to the city, thus sacrificing my own needs while sparing my mother another minute of his company, when she beat me to the punch.
“Jared, dear, it’s been so lovely to see you. What a good idea it was for us to enjoy this brunch together. I’ll have to call your mother later and tell her what a treat it was and thank her for making the suggestion.” She beamed, ever the consummate political animal. “Now I’m afraid I’m going to be terribly rude and ask if I can steal Amanda away for the rest of the day.” She reached over to squeeze my hand. “We don’t get to see nearly enough of each other, you know, and since my husband is out of the country on a dig, it’s such a great opportunity for us to visit and maybe do some Christmas shopping.”
Jared frowned a little. “Oh, well, I ... uh, sure. Of course.” He turned to me. “I was thinking that maybe we could get together for dinner one night, Mandy. Now that I’m working in Philadelphia, it would be a real shame for us not to spend more time together.”
I steeled myself not to cringe at his use of a nickname I’d never had ... or the thought of voluntarily spending any more time with him. “I’m sure we can work out something.” I wasn’t my mother’s daughter for nothing. Diplomacy was everything. “I’m pretty busy, heading into my last semester of law school. And when I’m not studying, I’m working.”
He laughed. “Aw, c’mon. You know what they say about all work and no play. You don’t want to turn into one of those boring women who only cares about her career.”
Now my mother’s eyebrows climbed nearly to her hairline, and I knew that if I didn’t move fast, one or both of us was going to blow. “Ah, ha, ha, you’re so adorable, Jared. Let me walk you to the door while my mother finishes up here.” I stood up, pushing back my chair, and Jared at last seemed to get the message that brunch was over and it was time for him to leave.
He rose to his feet and leaned down to kiss my mother’s cheeks, thanking her for the meal, before he joined me, pressing a hand to my lower back as we walked. I stepped away, moving faster, unable to bear any touch from him.
He held the door of the restaurant for me and handed his ticket to the valet as I wrapped my arms around my middle, warding off the chilly breeze.
“Should we exchange numbers?” He leaned against the column, the collar of his jacket turned up, the image of a privileged young man who’d never been compelled to do a day of work in his life.
“Oh, shoot.” I wrinkled my nose. “I left my phone at my table with my mother. I’ll tell you what, though—Mom has your number, so I’ll get it from her, and we’ll be in touch. Yes?” I flashed him a bright smile. “Oh, look, here’s your car! Brrr, it’s cold, isn’t it? I’m going to run back inside now, take care, talk soon!”
Without giving him a moment to protest or to try to do anything else—the idea of even a kiss on the cheek from him made me queasy—I skittered back inside and made a beeline for the table where I’d left my mom.
“Well, that was ninety minutes of my life I’ll never get back.” She rolled her eyes at me as she signed the check and closed the small black folder. “Good luck avoiding him, now that he’s living in your city.”
I shrugged. “It’s easier than you might think. I see a very small group of people, you know? It’s not like I’m out on the social circuit.”
“I do know.” Mom pointed to the chair I was standing behind. “Sit down. I ordered a fresh pot of coffee when I asked for the check, so we can have a little time together without your new friend around.”
“He’s not my friend,” I protested, sinking into my seat again. “It was your idea to invite him to brunch.”
“Yes, because his mother, whom I’ve known sincewewere at St. Ursula’s together, called and told me he needed a friend now that he was back in the area ... and you told me that you were looking for a date for Liam’s wedding. It seemed serendipitous.”
“I guess.” I poured coffee for my mother and myself. “And I know I should probably just invite him to be my plus one, because the wedding’s in two weeks, and I told Ava and Liam I was bringing a date ... and I don’t have one.” Unbidden, an image of Vincent DiMartino flashed into my mind, naked and sprawled over my bed, his eyes hooded as he’d watched me ride him until both of us were hoarse from moaning ...
“Who were you thinking about just now?” Amusement and curiosity tinged my mother’s voice. “What memory gave you that soft look in your eyes?”
“No one.” My answer was a knee-jerk response. I hadn’t told a single person about my night with Vincent: not my mother, whom I told almost everything, not any of my girlfriends, and certainly not Ava or Liam or Giff. It was a memory I’d kept to myself, reliving moments of that time over and over, especially during the few dates I’d had in the three months since. I wasn’t proud that I’d had to fantasize about Vincent in order to orgasm with guys I’d slept with since that one-night stand. But it was safer than doing something crazy, like calling him up and asking him if we could revisit the idea of another night together.
“Uh huh.” Mom was skeptical. “I’m assuming whoever it was, you believe that I wouldn’t approve.”
“I never worry about your approval,” I retorted. “You’ve never made me think I had to work for that. I just ... this was a one-shot deal. It’s not going to happen again. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Maybe. Or maybe that’s what you’re trying to convince yourself.” She tapped her fingers on the fine white linen tablecloth. “Was it someone you met at Liam and Ava’s engagement party?”
I felt my cheeks flush. “Why on earth would you ask that?”
She shrugged. “I was just remembering that weekend. We had brunch on Sunday, remember, as usual, and afterward, your father asked me if you were dating someone new. He said you had a look that he hadn’t seen before—not on you.”
Oh, awesome. My father had picked up on my post-sex bliss face.“Daddy said that? Since when does he notice anything about me?” That came out wrong. “I mean, when it comes to my love life. I don’t feel neglected by him or anything—I’m just kind of surprised.”
“Your father notices more than you think. But like me, he respects your privacy and feels that if you want us to know something, you’ll tell us. That day, he asked me if you’d said anything to me. I told him that as far as I knew, you were still single and focused on school and work.”
