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Emily slams down her menu, and she’s wearing the most poisonous smile I’ve ever seen. “That’s right. I did,” she says as she bats her eyelashes at me. “And it was the most sensual, delightful, wonderful, blissful, amazing experience of my entire life.”
“Oh, sweetheart, you really need to get out more. You should come to visit me in Paris.”
“You know,” Emily says sweetly. “I’ve heard it’s kind of dirty there. Like dirty money and bribery.” She pegs me with a dirty look before turning and giving my granny the same.
I’m stunned. I’m not sure why Emily has taken an instant dislike to my granny, but maybe she’s being punished, by extension, for being related to me.
Well, regardless, granny can definitely hold her own. “Nothing like a little bribery to get the blood flowing,” she says under her breath.
Emily’s eyes dart between us. “I can so tell you’re both related.”
At that moment, a server approaches, a middle-aged woman with gray hair tightly pulled back, a white blouse, and black pants. I know she’s probably going to ask about drinks, but I’m desperate to end this meeting as soon as I can, so I blurt out something about steak and red wine. Whatever Granny had mentioned. If our server is surprised, she takes it in stride. My granny orders the same. And of course, when it gets to Emily, she demurely hands over her menu and smiles sweetly at the lady.
“I’ll have the chicken. Extra garlic and onions, please. Also, a white wine. Whatever you think would go best. And the dessert menu looked fabulous.” She hasn’t even seen it yet. “I’ll get one of everything.”
After our server leaves, I let out a breath. Granny actually looks impressed.
“You know,” Granny says, beaming at Emily. “I think I like you. Of all the bimbos that Asher’s dated, you’re the best.”
“Hey!” I protest.
“Hey,” Emily grunts as well.
“That was supposed to be a compliment,” Granny assures us. “Now, let’s talk about Paris. You seem to have some misguided notion that it’s dirty. It’s not dirty! It’s the most fabulous city in the world. And I’ll tell you why.”
And just like that, I’m forgotten, completely excluded from the conversation. Granny has this crazy ability to make people both love and hate her, often at the same time. Emily is probably as confused as anything, but I watch Granny win her over right in front of me.
By the time our food comes, Emily is flushed, and she’s forgotten all about being here to fake it with me. Instead, she’s hanging on Granny’s every word. Her eyes are bright, and she looks excited as the server slides a huge plate of chicken in front of her.
“Maybe I would like to go,” she confesses. “You make it sound amazing.”
“Oh, it is,” Granny assures her. “You could come as my special guest whenever you like. I have a private jet at my disposal, so it’s no problem to pick you up.”
“Could I bring someone?”
Granny gives me a sidelong glance.
“I mean my parents. They’d adore it. Or maybe a friend? I have a couple who would die to go.”
“Of course. You just let me know. By the way, the chicken looks divine. Want to switch?”
Emily, who was so against the suggestion of steak and ordered chicken probably just to spite my granny, neatly slides her plate over, picking Granny’s up as she goes along. She switches the wines out too.
What the actual heck? My granny is freaking made of rainbows, unicorn farts, flying monkeys, avocados with hearts instead of pits, and happy sloths. She’s trendy, beautiful, dignified, and she has this magic power I lack.
Powers that can get Emily to like her.
I thought I had that power. For once in my life, I finally just felt free to be me. To just spend a night with a woman I wanted to spend a night with and have that desire reciprocated with no demands whatsoever. There should have been something there—demands, I mean, seeing as what we’d already established, but there wasn’t, and I have no clue how to get that Emily back. The Emily from last night. The Emily who laughs at fart stories and gets teary-eyed about her family and opera. The Emily who covered me up when I fell asleep on her couch. The funny, witty, happy Emily who didn’t mysteriously very much dislike me.
She knew all that stuff about me before, yet it didn’t change what she wanted last night. That’s all I can reason as I cut and chew the most delicious steak I’ve had in a long time. I can tell it’s good even though my mood is ruining it. I fall into a rhythm. Cut, chew. Cut, chew. Cut, chew. All while Emily and Granny talk and laugh like I’m not even here.
When we’re done eating, Emily pushes her plate away, and Granny winks at her. “The desserts are on me.”
