Cara laughed, gesturing at the silk table cloths and then to the extravagant crystal lighting above their heads. “Even in a place like this?”
“They know what I like,” Gian replied with a shrug. “And it’s not always spectacular, but something to enjoy. Sometimes, the chef likes to make something that isn’t an affair in his kitchen, too.”
“I stand by what I said, then.”
Surprise her.
Gian only had to nod at the server, and the man was gone from the private dining space. He didn’t even need to tell the man what he did or didn’t want—the employees knew the owner well enough, and Gian made a point to dine often at this particular restaurant. He did like the food, after all.
“How was your week?” Gian asked.
It was a safe topic of conversation. Something he could move into what he really wanted to ask.
Cara made a face. “Busy at school. Quiet all the rest of the time. Dull.”
“Why dull?”
Her blue eyes sparkled with mischief. “I get bored when I’m alone.”
“You sound surprised at that.”
“I never used to mind being alone.”
“I’m not very good company for myself, either.”
Cara stared beyond Gian, at the artwork behind him. “I find it hard to believe that you spend much time alone.”
“Cara.”
She didn’t look at him.
“Cara.”
“Yes?”
Gian reached across the table, and slid his fingers under her chin so that he could make her look at him. “If you have something to ask, then do so.”
“We’re casual, not exclusive. I said that, Gian. I don’t need to know anything.”
“You can still ask, donna.”
Cara’s lips pursed. “That would suggest more than—”
“My God, ask.”
“I don’t need to, Gian. That’s the point. I was thinking too much this week—overthinking like I do—because of my sister and that guy. She had online journals she used to keep, you know? I went through some because I have her passwords and her laptop. I never did that before. And her phone, too. I still have that. I charged it and read the messages she hadn’t deleted.”
Gian frowned. “And what did you learn?”
“That it didn’t end between them when everyone thought it did. She still saw him occasionally, after he was married. She knew, too, about the other girl before the pregnancy thing came up. Why didn’t she ever say anything to me? Why didn’t she tell me? I’m her twin.”
Cara sighed, her manicured nails rapping against the table cloth as she added, “But then, I know why she didn’t say anything, because she knows me, too. She knows I wouldn’t have been happy—that I would not have agreed with what she was doing. So, I’m stuck in this headspace of being angry that she left me out of a private thing, and being grateful that she did at the same time. I feel like I didn’t know her, or this part of her. It’s messed up.”
“And this made you overthink because …?”
“Because I don’t want to be one of several woman, Gian. I want to be one woman to one man. Except that wasn’t what I told you before, so—”
“You are one woman to one man,” he interrupted smoothly. “I’m not with anyone else, and I haven’t been for a long time. I didn’t even do a casual thing with women, I did the random thing for an evening and that was it. Things are simpler in my life that way. I have … well, expectations of me, and it’s easier when I don’t have to bring others into that mess, too.”