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“Absolutely. So, are you going to do it?”
I pulled my phone from my purse and opened Andy's last message.
“I guess I’ll let you know after dinner.”
* * *
I spotted Andy’s black Porsche the moment it pulled onto Main Street. A shot of adrenaline iced my veins and I tamped it back down.
I had nothing to hide and, honestly, if I went through with this, his presence would be extra proof we were dating.
After talking with Thea, I made a giant list of pros and cons, then proceeded to lay on my bed and stare at the ceiling. For hours, my mind raced. None of it brought me any closer to an answer. At this point, I half-hoped Andy would pick me up and tell me he changed his mind, so I didn’t need to decide.
But when Andy emerged from the driver’s side, dressed in a suit with a colorful bouquet in his hand, I abandoned that lifesaver.
“You look nice,” I said.
I meant it. Andy always looked polished, even when he wore a tracksuit or a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. But in an actual suit, he shone. He wore my favorite suit tonight: a light blue jacket with a white button-up underneath and a dark blue pair of pants. The combination made his eyes glow. My stomach tumbled as I accepted the flowers.
“Thanks. You look pretty gorgeous yourself.”
My cheeks burned. Liar. While he wore a designer suit, I had on a simple gray dress I picked up at a thrift store. I’d cut my hair short enough in the summer not to need to fuss with a fancy updo, clipping the sides back instead, and only using a small amount of makeup. I wasn’t sure how much would be considered overkill for a meeting about a marriage of convenience.
Rather than focus on clothes, I turned my attention to the flowers instead—purple freesias with white gardenias. I inhaled. “Thank you for the flowers and the compliment.”
He grinned and opened the passenger door for me. I slid into the sports car, setting the flowers on my lap as he rounded the car and slid into the driver’s seat.
“So, I thought in the spirit of discretion, we’d have dinner in Pierce.”
“This car isn’t exactly discreet,” I argued. “But that’s probably a good idea.”
Franklin Notch had a single restaurant: a small family-owned diner where everyone in town ate, especially on a Friday night. If Andy and I showed up together, Cal would get word before we sat down.
Pierce was only a twenty-minute drive from Franklin Notch, but the differences between the two towns were stark. Pierce had positioned itself as a tourist site well before the mills closed down decades earlier. Restaurants, bars, and kitschy shops dotted the oak-lined streets—each buzzing with year-round activities. Franklin Notch only attracted crowds when the cozy motels in Pierce were fully booked.
And unlike the single diner in Franklin Notch, Pierce had a variety of places to eat. Andy pulled up in front of the Commons, letting a valet park the car.
A former log mill, the interior of the Commons had been completely gutted, leaving exposed brick and giant oak beams overhead. Black and white pictures dotted the entryway, showing the site's construction and how the building had looked in its former iteration. I paused at the photograph of a wave of logs floating down the river, dwarfing the immense building beside it while Andy spoke to the hostess.
“You want to see something else exciting?” Andy asked, sidling up beside me.
I nodded. He cupped my elbow, drawing me over to a plate-glass window on the floor. I peeked down at the river rushing below.
“That’s both amazing and terrifying,” I said as I stepped back from the glass floor.
“Stewart?” A hostess dressed in black interrupted us, holding two menus. “Right this way.”
She weaved through the busy restaurant, setting the menus on a table in the back corner. “Enjoy your meal.”
I flipped through the menu, blanching at the listed prices. Andy had said he’d pay, and unless I ordered water and a garden salad, I’d have to take him up on that offer.
“The prime rib is fantastic,” he said, absently thumbing through the menu before setting it aside. “I was going to order wine. What do you like?”
I shrugged. “Boxed?”
He laughed. “I don’tthinkthey carry boxed wine here. Do you like red or white?”
“Red.”
