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Julie’s hand paused in the middle of applying eyeliner. Well, if she’d been looking for a positive to the evening, that was it. The less Mitchell had in common with Greg, the better.
“What happened to movie night?” Grace asked. “Isn’t going to an impersonal club kind of the opposite direction you need to go for your story?”
Yes, exactly, Grace. Thanks so much for the reminder. “He didn’t go for it,” Julie replied, careful to keep her tone neutral.
“Really? I totally thought staying in would be right up his alley. I mean, not that I can picture the man vegging out in ratty sweats, but maybe one of those dressing gowns that old men wear?”
“I’ll be sure to mention that to him,” Julie said. “Maybe get him some nice tobacco to go with his pipe.”
That was, if they ever got to movie night.
“Well, I’m sure he just suggested Pair to impress you,” Grace said kindly. “If he knows anything about you, he probably thinks it’s your ideal way to spend a weekend night.”
And he’d been right.
Or at least he’d have been right just a couple of weeks ago.
She paused and studied herself in the mirror. What’s changed?
Her reflection gazed back. You know what’s changed.
“Whatever,” Julie muttered to herself. “Look, Gracey, I gotta go. He’ll be here in a few.”
“ ’Kay. Good luck. And if you have a heart, do not make that poor man dance.”
Julie hung up the phone, smiling at the absurd mental picture of Mitchell Forbes dancing. He definitely didn’t seem the type unless it was the fox-trot or the waltz.
So why had he suggested it in the first place? She wanted to think that it was for her sake.
That he knew her party-girl track record and was trying to appease her. But a nagging doubt had inserted itself in the back of her brain and wouldn’t let go.
What if he hadn’t wanted to do movie night with her?
And why was she not relieved at getting a free pass to skip movie night? She’d been dreading the very thought of that couch potato moment from the time Camille had mentioned the story.
But she hadn’t known Mitchell then. Hadn’t considered that the thought of curling up on the couch with him might be kind of appealing.
Hadn’t considered that as much as she didn’t think of herself as a movie-night kind of girl, a man wouldn’t either.
She looked at her perfectly made-up face in the mirror, itching to scrub it all off and put on her PJs. But she couldn’t
Because I’m not good enough for Titanic and popcorn.
The sharp buzz of the front door interrupted her moping. Mitchell was here. She fluffed her hair and pasted a smile on her face. She could do this. She’d done it a million times before.
She did a double take when she opened the door. She hadn’t put a lot of thought into how Wall Street would transition to Meatpacking District, but the effect was noticeable. And unsettling.
Julie’s first urge was to button one more button on his black button-down and add a tie. And where are your glasses?
He looked like every other guy she’d ever taken to a club on a Friday night.
She didn’t like it.
“You’re sure about this?” she blurted out as he slid past her with a peck on the cheek.
He glanced down in surprise. “Sure about what?”
“Pair. That’s really what you want to do?”
