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Eventually Luca took his hands away. But he also took the phone, gently placing it back in the center of the table.
“Fuck it,” he declared firmly. “I don’t care how late it is.”
He picked up our forks with a smirk and handed mine over.
“Everything waits untilafterwe eat.”
Fifty-Three
JENNA
He wore a sports jacket over his button-down baby blue shirt, probably because I’d once told him he looked good in baby blue. In retrospect, I was only being nice. Stroking his ego had become a full-time job for me, especially by the end of the relationship. In other words, it was easier to compliment him than it was to face the consequences of not saying anything at all.
“You look absolutely stunning.”
Elijah reached out for my hand before sitting down, like I was going to let him hold and kiss it or something. The very thought made me want to throw up.
“Thanks for coming,” I said instead.
He stood awkwardly, while I remained in my seat. Eventually I nodded toward the chair on the opposite side of the table.
“Err… of course.”
Ignoring my offer, he slid into the chair right next to me instead. It was a dick move. But this was Elijah, and dick moves were his specialty.
“I’m so happy you called,” he said genuinely. “When I got your message, I must’ve listened to it ten times. But there was no anger. No sarcasm.”
“I’m through being angry,” I told him. “And you always said you hated my sarcasm. Didn’t you?”
For a moment he didn’t know how to answer. He was probably trying to figure out what I wanted to hear.
“I guess I’m just glad you finally came around,” Elijah eventually said.
“I never said I—”
“I know, I know,” he interjected hastily. His hands were held out in the most placating manner possible. “What I mean is I’m happy you’re willing to sit down and hear me out.”
He smiled charmingly, and for one brief shining millisecond I could remember what it was that attracted me to him in the first place. The brilliance of that moment faded almost instantaneously though, like the existence of an all-new element in a proton collider.
“What are you drinking?” he asked.
I looked at my glass. “Wine.”
“We’ll get a whole bottle then,” he assured me. “And maybe some cocktails, too. Anything you want, angel. Just say the—”
“I’m not your angel.”
The words came out a bit more coldly than I wanted them to, but not half as cold as I actually meant them. Elijah’s mouth twitched, almost turning into a frown. Somehow he kept his composure though.
“I mean look, I agreed to meet with you,” I told him. “This is what you wanted, right?”
His smile returned. “Yes!”
“Well I’m here,” I said, matter-of-factly. “And I’m… listening.”
Elijah’s entire expression changed as he struggled to find whatever words he thought I wanted to hear. In the meantime I scanned the restaurant, trying to gauge how much time I still had. And that’s because every second sitting next to this man was sheer torture.
“What’s with the table?” he asked.
