Page 43 of Gold Rush

It’s packed inside. A folding sign set on the sidewalk outside was advertising Thursday specials, and lots of office buildings are located in the immediate area. Every table is full, to Rob’s disappointment, but there are two open stools along the bar that we gather around.

“We’ll get faster service this way,” Carla says.

“Especially since the bartender can’t take his eyes off Rory.” Jackie nudges my arm. “No one look, but—Rob! I said not to look.”

“I was checking how close he was to taking our order,” he grumbles, resting an arm on the countertop to scan the rest of the bar. For the waitress, presumably.

“What can I get you guys?”

The bartender is looking straight at me when I glance over, which is a surprise. I’m not convinced it’s not simply because Rob and I are standing closest to the counter, but his attention is flattering nonetheless. No matter how many times I hear that it was Carson’s mistake and Carson’s insecurities that fueled his infidelity, you don’t cheat unless something is missing. You don’t cheat on someone you’re incredibly attracted to. Sex with the physician was underwhelming as well, so the logical conclusion is that something is missing … with me.

Everyone seems to be waiting for me to order first, so I do. “White wine, please.”

“We’ve got a whole list,” he tells me, indicating to a leather-bound menu.

“Whatever you recommend is fine.”

His smile widens. “Coming right up.”

He takes Jackie’s, Rob’s, and Jennifer’s orders, too, before heading down the bar to fix the drinks.

As soon as he departs, Jackie nudges my arm. “He’s super cute. You, Rob, and his waitress could double-date!”

“She’s not my anything,” Rob says immediately. “I don’t even know if she’s single.”

“And, as fun as a double date sounds, I think it would bother my boyfriend,” I add.

The last word sits strange in my mouth, lingering like it has weight or a taste. It’s the first time I’ve said it referring to Flynn Parks, and the innocuous syllables sound different even though neither he nor anyone who knows him is here to witness it. We’re supposed to officially launch our fake relationship this weekend. My awkwardness now suggests that this was a much-needed trial run.

“Oh, sorry,” Jackie says immediately. “I didn’t—you’ve never mentioned anyone, so I just assumed …”

“It’s fine,” I tell her. “It’s new. Well, new-ish.”

“Did you guys just meet?”

“No, we sort of … grew up together.”

That sounds weird to say as well, although it’s entirely accurate.

“Does that mean his family is loaded too?”

“Jackie,” Carla hisses.

“What? Don’t pretend like you haven’t been dying to ask what being a billionaire is like.”

I glance around at my coworkers. “I didn’t realize you guys all …”

“It’s an iconic last name,” Carla tells me.

“Especially in this city,” Jackie adds.

“Does your uncle seriously own FC⁠—”

“What else can I get you guys?” The bartender returns, setting down my glass of wine and the other drinks, interrupting Rob’s question.

I assume he was going to ask about the Italian football club Crew is part owner of. I already knew Rob was a sports fan; his office is decorated with lots of athletic paraphernalia. Rob would probably be equally, if not more, impressed by my dad’s season tickets to all of New York’s teams. Or my grandfather’s sports agency. But I don’t mention any of that. It’s hard to share details about my family, to allow people to get to know me, without sounding like I’m bragging.

While everyone who hasn’t ordered yet shares their requests, Jackie leans closer and whispers, “We don’t have to talk about your family, if you don’t want to. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”