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“Thank you!” Beth said. “You and I can go out, Dad. I’ll see Eric another time.”
Eric started backing away.
Her father eyed him, and then his weathered face broke into a wide smile. “I have the perfect solution. We’ll all have dessert and drinks together. I’d love to get to know some of Beth’s friends.”
Beth almost choked on her tongue. Eric wasn’t even a friend. He was just a sex partner.
She realized she’d been shaking her head for a full ten seconds. “No, Dad.”
“Come. You haven’t introduced me to a gentleman friend since high school.”
Oh, my God, why was he bringing that up?
“Mr. Cantrell,” Eric started, but Beth cut him off.
“Dad, no. Eric doesn’t want to go out with us. He was only—”
“Of course he does,” her dad said, and now there was steel behind that smile.
Eric swallowed. Loudly.
“He wasn’t staying long!” she insisted.
Her father frowned.
Eric’s face blanched. “I think dessert would be wonderful,” he said in such a rush that she barely understood him.
But her father must have understood perfectly, because his smile was suddenly natural again and he slapped Eric on the back. “Yes. Wonderful. Let me just call your mother and tell her it’ll be another hour before I leave.”
“There’s a phone in the spare room!” Beth said as if there wasn’t a phone right next to the couch.
Just an hour, Beth prayed. Please, just an hour. Not that it mattered. As soon as they were done, Eric would bolt into the night without looking back.
Her father disappeared.
“Ohmigod,” Beth whispered, grabbing Eric’s arm. “Why did you say yes?”
“I had to! You said I wasn’t staying long, and I just… I had to say something!”
“But not that!”
“You basically told him I was here to have sex with you! What was I supposed to say?”
“Are you kidding me? I was going to say you were picking up a CD.”
“A CD? Who the hell even has CDs anymore?”
“Eric!” She shook his arm hard. “Do you really think my dad knows that? He’s seventy-three!”
“I panicked, all right? I wasn’t planning on meeting your family tonight.”
Beth let go of him and covered her face with her hands. “Oh, God, I am so, so sorry. This is a disaster. Just…” She froze, then glanced toward the hallway. “Just go! Now! Before he—”
Her father stepped into the hall, shooting his cuffs and straightening his tie. “Your mother’s been appeased. I promised to bring her a piece of pie. Is there a place with good pie around here? How about that place we had brunch, querida?”
She gave one last, best effort. “I don’t think they’re open in the evenings, Daddy.”
“Nonsense. I looked at the dinner menu when we were there. I thought I might take your mother back sometime. What was it called?”
