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“Yeah?”
“Don’t ever run with scissors.”
I can’t help myself. I smile back. “Lesson learned.”
Our eyes stay locked, and an electrical charge moves through my spine. The air between us thickens, becomes weighty, and my thoughts move to her red lips. Lips that look so soft, so utterly…
“New York Cheesecake?” A waitress materializes out of thin air, proferring a plate with the world’s largest slice of cake on it, accompanied by a mountain of whipped cream and strawberries.
I nod in Annie’s direction, glad of the interruption. I have to remember that this isnota date.
The waitress sets the cake in front of Annie. “Enjoy.”
As the waitress walks away, I take a sip of water. Annie tilts her head as she digs her fork into her cheesecake. “So you’re really not a dessert guy, huh?”
“Not really. The only dessert I ever loved was my mom’s pecan pie. I used to go crazy for it at Thanksgiving. She’d make an extra one she called ‘Liam’s pie.’” My heart is heavy with the happy memory, now tinged with sadness.
And I can’t quite believe I just voluntarily said all that out loud.
“Does she still make it?” Annie asks.
The heaviness remains in my chest as I consider how to answer her. Usually, I’d pass over her question, avert the conversation. But for some reason—maybe the wine, or the fact that Annie’s going to town on the cake with this unashamed abandon that’s kind of endearing, or the candlelight giving this whole thing a dream-like quality—I decide to be honest. “She passed away. Back when I was in college. A few days after Thanksgiving, actually.”
A Thanksgiving I missed, and can never get back.
Annie’s eyes glow caramel as she looks at me somberly for a few seconds.
“That sucks,” she says finally, her voice more serious than I’ve ever heard it. The reaction is so perfectly Annie that some of the heaviness lifts. It’s empathy instead of sympathy, and the perfect words for what was a very sucky situation all round.
“It does,” I agree. “She was my favorite person. Practically raised the three of us on her own, which can’t have been an easy feat. But I don’t think I ever heard her utter a single complaint.”
Annie waits a beat, letting my words hang between us. “I’m sure she’d be super proud of you if she could see you today,” she says quietly.
I look at her. “Thanks.”
“For what? It’s the truth.”
“I mean, thanks for not going the pity party route.”
She frowns at her plate. “There’s nothing worse than other people’s pity. Always makes me feel like I need a shower.”
I laugh, surprised. “This happen to you a lot?”
I’m not sure how, exactly, this conversation went from business, to flirting, to personal… but I’m one hundred percent invested now.
She shrugs, brushes a crumb off the table. “It’s the other part of the reason I moved here. Outside of taking this job.”
“What happened?”
“My ex happened.” A strange, almost sorrowful little smile forms on her lips. Then disappears. “The one I mentioned the other night after work, same guy you met in Boston at the hotel. After I broke up with him, everything went south. Literally.”
I don’t say anything, just wait. She continues.
“I don’t know… I woke up one day and realized I wasn’t sure if he really loved me or if this was just convenient for both of us. I started to question if I was happy. Realized I hadn’t been for a long time. It was like I was going through the motions of a life with someone, without actually being aware of how I was feeling. I was living a reality that was born of convenience, not passion, and I wanted more for myself.” She sets her jaw, resolute as ever. “I deserved more. And so did he, I figured.”
I nod slowly, captivated by her story.
“I eventually worked up the courage to end things. He was angry, said I was making a huge mistake. But he began dating Veronica pretty much the next day. Replaced me with her. He made things so tough in the office afterwards, acting like he’d devastated me by leavingmefor Veronica. I don’t know why, but I played along with his version of events. Thought it might make things easier for both of us.”
