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“I don’t deny that nearly everything about you is a bit foreign to me, Georgiana.”
“Well, no longer calling me by my formal, full name might be a step in the right direction. Speaking of names, what’s your middle name?”
“Michael. Why?”
She shut the menu. “Because I like to know these kinds of details about the men I’m sleeping with. Favorite color?”
“Don’t have one. I’m not a child.” He felt a sharp nudge against his shin. “Did you just kick me?”
She smiled serenely. “Favorite color?”
“Red.”
“Interesting. Why?” She picked up her wine and tilted her head.
Andrew sighed. “Is this what it’s going to be like, then?”
“Is this what what’s going to be like?”
Dating you. He almost said the words, but bit them back just in time. He didn’t like the way the thought made him feel vulnerable. He hadn’t felt this unsure of himself in a very long time, and he didn’t enjoy it.
He was, however, enjoying her. And therein lay the problem.
“What’s your middle name?” he asked, to distract her.
“Frances.”
He resisted the urge to smile. “Georgiana Frances? Surely your parents were expecting a different sort of child.”
“I know, right? I was named after both grandmothers, and I have to assume everyone thought I’d be very tidy and studious.”
“Bet you weren’t,” he said, enjoying the mental image of what she must have been as a wildly charming handful of a little girl.
“Not even a little bit. I was most definitely the one who wanted princess parties and asked for a pink pony eight years in a row.”
“So pink’s your favorite color, then?”
“No, red,” she said, sitting forward and looking delighted. “Do you know what this means?”
“You have a temper?”
“No, it means we have something in common. Can you even conceive of it?”
“Honestly?” He sipped his wine. “Not really.”
“You know what I like best about this whole situation?” she said with a smile. “I like that you haven’t changed even a little. I like that you’ve seen all my bits, and you’re still crusty.”
He stifled a laugh. “I’m not sure which is more disturbing: the word bits, the word crusty, or the fact you used them in the same sentence.”
“So, I talked to Hailey,” she announced, without any conversational segue whatsoever. Typical.
“Oh yeah?” he asked, tensing a bit. He didn’t particularly like that he’d been very close to using a perfectly nice woman in order to get the upper hand on the woman he’d really wanted.
“Yep, we met up for coffee after brunch, and I explained everything. I didn’t want her to find out from another Page Six post.”
“When you say you explained everything…?”
For the first time since he’d known her, something that looked like uncertainty flashed across her face.
