“It’s okay. What were you going to say?” I tugged the strap of my lace top back up on my shoulder.
Next to me, my dad turned his menu toward my mom on his other side to ask her if he liked scallions.
“It’s scallops you don’t like,” she answered.
“That’s right.” He went back to reading every dinner option, again.
A salty breeze blew off the ocean, sweeping my hair across my face and the hem of my skirt against my thighs under the table. The patio was busy with waitstaff weaving between tables and the gas fire pits around the edge of the seating. I was the last to arrive in our party and placed directly across from Jamison.
Which was fine, because I was handling him the same way I liked to handle all my dirty laundry—ignoring it.
Flicking her hand, Sally shook her head. “Never mind, you probably already told me.”
“No, it’s fine.” I leaned my chin in my fist and gave her my undivided attention, not even sparing an ounce for the nervous tap-tap of Jamison’s index finger on the tabletop.
The glow from the fire burning a few feet away set him in stark contrasts, all warm tones along his nose, high cheekbones and jaw. Shadows drew the other half of his face in darkness. It was truly annoying how romantic he looked, with his hair tousled across his forehead and his navy button-up shirt tucked into gray slacks. The crease from his hip to his ankle went on for just under an eternity. He would have been too sexy for me to even handle, if not for the fact that I’d seen that shirt before. He’d worn it the last time we’d “hung out,” and he had made it excessively clear that he was not into me.
A fresh wave of embarrassment crashed in my stomach, remembering how I’d opened up only to be shut down.
“I was just wondering what you do for work,” Sally said folding her hands in her lap.
Jamison’s eyes snapped my way, boring holes through me. I refused to be unsettled by him.
“I’m a business administrator,” I stated.
His eyes narrowed, and it was everything in me not to glare back.
“You know,” Sally began. “I’ve always hated that job title. But then, I guess, it’s hard to fit, ‘Without me this place falls apart,’ on a business card.”
For the first time that night, a genuine smile spread across my face. One that didn’t hold a strained tightness around the corners. One that actually fit all the way up to my eyes.
“I leave detailed notes when I go away, so they’ll make it for a little while.”
He made ahmmsound, and I had to fight for my life not to roll my eyes. His very existence was irritating.
“Sade,” June called from the other side of the table. “I can’t decide between the short rib and the shrimp linguine. Will you get one, and I’ll get the other, so we can share?”
“I’m getting the salmon.”
“Sadie,” she whined.
“I’m getting the salmon,” I repeated, this time more forcefully.
Her fiancé, Mike, put his arm around the back of her chair. “Just get ’em both, babe. We’ll reheat the leftovers for lunch tomorrow.”
She bounced a little in her seat, satisfied. “Okay.”
Affection warmed in my chest for my future bother-in-law. The way they balanced each other gave me hope for something I had never experienced—someone who really, truly loved me. Someone who wouldn’t think I was interchangeable.
Now that I knew he was Jamison’s little brother, I could see the similarities. Their dry sense of humor, their height, and the deep-set of their eyes. But where Mike had a warmth and friendliness that pulled every stranger toward him, Jamison was rigid and straight backed. He had a knack for being too abrupt and setting peopleon edge.
Not me, though.
Before our last encounter, I might not have been special to him, but he was at least nice to me.
“And where do you live?” Sally asked, pulling me back to our conversation.
“Chicago.”
