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“Th—the stupid restaurant.” I forced the words out. Liar Bob stroked my hair and whispered in my ear to keep going, but I was starting to realize he’d never been a true friend to me at all. “They canceled our reservation.”
“Canceled it?”
“Yeah, I guess they needed our table for some—big group, or something, some local government official and her family; it’s really rude of them, but that’s what they did.”
Cass stared at me long enough for my gut to recreate Mom’s tap-dancing routine inside me. “Did they really?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah. I’m really sorry. I figured we could go to the Mexican place instead, or—”
“Did they really, Fran?” There was an edge to his tone that made me feel two inches tall. “Did they really cancel the reservation?”
I gazed at him without actually seeing him. In my mind’s eye, I was watching my future with Cass melt away on God’s tongue like so many snowflakes. “No,” I admitted. “No, they didn’t.”
He nodded slowly. “You made that up?”
“Yeah.” My throat felt so thick I could barely swallow.
“Because…”
“Because I forgot to make a reservation.”
He sighed. Not an angry sound. Just a really, really tired one. He nodded again. “Right.”
“Cass, I’m so sorry. I was overwhelmed with stuff with the girls, and helping my mom rehearse for the dance recital, and I just…”
“You just told me you had made a reservation.”
“I know.”
“For seven.”
“I know. God, I’m so sorry. We can still have a fun evening, though. We’ll go anywhere else you w—”
“No,” he said sharply.
“No?”
“No. I don’t want to go anywhere else. Not with you.”
That hurt far worse than I was prepared for. “It’s just a restaurant, Cass. And not even a very good one. Olive Garden food—”
“At Guy Savoy prices, yeah I know.”
“So why can’t we just—?”
“It’s not about the restaurant!” he snapped. “I don’t care about going to Mon Ami.”
“Are you sure? Because you seemed really excited to eat there.”
“All right, yeah, I was. But that’s not what this is about. This is about the fact that youarestill that guy from high school.”
That hit me like a reindeer antler to the eye. His holly-trimming neighbor looked over at us. I did my best to ignore her. “You were in love with that guy,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, Iwas.”
I didn’t like that emphasis. But I wisely stayed quiet and used this time to reflect on how much worse my fuck up was than I’d originally thought. I’d honestly pictured us both laughing this off. Going somewhere else to eat, Cass teasing me about yet another classic Fran blunder. But suddenly I was seventeen again, watching Cass’s expression change from bewilderment to betrayal as he learned I’d lied about OU, and how—howcould I ever have believed this was okay? To hurt him again, lie to him again? Make him think his Christmas wish was coming true, and then let him down like this?
He ran a hand through his hair then blew out a breath. “So, this isn’t going to work.” He gestured between him and me. “Us.”
