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He dipped me backward, and I lifted my leg like in an old movie musical. “Call me Ginger.”
By the time we took our seats, the first course had been served, and a woman with salt-and-pepper hair patted my hand. “You two make a sweet couple.”
“Thank you, but we’re not—” I glanced over my shoulder at Jason. We hadn’t had any explicit conversations about what was unfolding between us, but if I were honest with myself and this random woman in front of me, I wanted a relationship with Jason. Much to my own astonishment.
The man in question smiled at me, crooked and mind-shattering, his arm draped over the back of my chair. “Do you want a drink?”
For the seventy-eighth time today, I had to blink out of his stunning orbit when he traced a finger down my shoulder. Then I blinked again. And he grinned as if he knew exactly what he was doing to me.
He brought the back of my hand up to his mouth for a kiss that lingered a little longer than socially acceptable. “Gemma. Drink?”
I nodded, marionette-style. “Wine.”
“Preference?”
“White,” I said, even though the gerbil, straining to get the wheel of my brain back on track, reminded me that white wine would give me a headache tomorrow.
“I’ll be right back.”
“You’re not what?” the woman across me from asked, dragging my attention back to her when she tapped the table.
“I’m sorry?”
“You and Jason.” She moved forward in her seat. “You’re not a couple? You could have fooled me with the way you two look at each other.” She introduced herself. “I’m Joann, Frank’s administrative assistant.”
I shook her hand. “Oh, hi. Nice to meet you. I’m Caroline’s daughter, Gemma.”
Joann smiled, poking at her salad. “I could tell. You look just like her.” She speared a cherry tomato. “I never thought I’d see this day. Frank married again. Jason smiling and happy with a girl.”
I paused with my water glass midair. “What do you mean?”
Joann held the tomato aloft. “Well, after Sandy passed, Frank was crushed.”
“I mean about Jason. What do you mean, happy?” He had never struck me as beingunhappy. Was he unhappy?
“Jason is… He was always so broody,” Joann said, munching on the tomato. “Even as a teenager, he was always so serious. And girls would fawn all over him.”
“Brooding? Really?” I scoffed. From the moment we met, Jason had been constantly laughing. At me. And then, of course, there was that ever-present arrogant smile.
“Speak of the devil.” Joann pointed to Jason’s chair.
He arrived with three drinks held between his hands. “Chardonnay for Gem, Kahlúa and cream for Joann, and ginger ale for me.”
“You know me so well.” Joann winked at him. “Gemma and I were just talking about you,” she said casually, sipping her cocktail, as if she hadn’t broken rule number eight of girl code.
“You were?” He crossed his right ankle over his left knee. “Anything interesting?”
I flicked my hand in the air. “Oh, you know, only how she knew you when you were awkward and geeky.”
He bent his head to me. “Those two words are not in my repertoire. Try super masculine and cool.”
“Yes, the bow tie is very cool and masculine,” I teased.
He patted it down. “I think it’s fetching.”
I did too, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. His head was big enough as it was. I inched closer to him but spoke to Joann. “Do you have any good stories? Maybe an unfortunate haircut or prom incident? Did Mr. Perfect here flip out like Carrie?”
“No, no pig’s blood.” She leaned her temple on her index finger. “But he was homecoming king, if I remember correctly.”
