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“Um, you’re welcome.” I watch as the cameraman walks around the table to get close ups of everyone’s faces.
Once he steps back, Tim stands up. “I’ll go pick out a nicebottle of wine for us. Would you ladies like red or white?” Looks like Fielden isn’t getting any.
Personally, I’d like a shot of tequila or two.Or twelve.But instead of saying that, I go with, “I’m sure whatever you choose will be great.”
After he walks away, I turn to Fielden. “This is pretty stressful.”
“That guy is a jerk, and I don’t like him.”
“What did he do to you?” Cami wants to know.
Either Fielden has totally lost his mind or he’s auditioning for reality show villain of the year, because he answers, “I don’t like the way he looks at Paige. It’s like she’s a cheesecake and he just left a Weight Watchers meeting.”
I would have noticed if that was true because, let’s face it, I would love that. “No, he doesn’t.”
Cami gives her two cents. “I don’t think Tim looks at Paige as anything other than a friend.”
“Then you’re both blind,” Fielden says snarkily.
I need to talk to Fielden alone before Tim gets back and he starts the mother of all fights, so I ask, “Fielden, can I speak with you privately for a minute?”
Cami takes the hint and stands up. “I’ll just go powder my nose.”
After she leaves, I tell my date, “I swear that Tim and I are only friends, and he has no feelings for me whatsoever.”
“I think you’re wrong.”
“We’re going to have to agree to disagree on this one. But please, don’t pick a fight with him. I want tonight to go smoothly.”
“So do I,” he says like I’ve been hallucinating the underlying tension at the table. He eventually adds, “I won’t say a word to him.”
“Thank you.” And while I feel a small amount of relief, I can’t help but wonder if there’s any truth to Fielden’s assumption that Tim likes me as more than a friend.
CHAPTER THIRTY
TIM
Once I get to the wine cellar, I take several deep breaths to regain my composure. I do not like Fielden Marsh. I particularly don’t like how he won’t accept responsibility for his bad behavior.
I take my time choosing a nice Viognier before going back to the conference room. When I finally get there, I open the bottle, while telling my dinner companions about the grapefruit and grassy notes they’ll taste in the wine. I fill their glasses before sitting down.
That’s when I notice Fielden has moved his chair so close to Paige’s that their arms are touching.Ew. Note to self:You are here with Cami. Ignore the interlopers.
“So, Cami,” I say, “tell me about catering.”
She gestures around the room. “I’d think you’d know all about that.”
“To an extent, but all our events take place here. You must throw parties all over the city.”
“We do,” she says before itemizing a list of locations. While she talks, I find my gaze drifting over to Paige and Fielden. I don’thear anything else until she says, “And that’s why we enjoy serving canapés on a tightrope so much.”
Holy heck, I must have missed an incredible story for that to be the punchline. “I’m sorry … what?”
Cami laughs. “I was just trying to get your attention.”
What do I say to that?Sorry, I was busy wondering what Paige could possibly see in her date?Instead, I go with, “I think canapés on a tightrope could be your thing. Every socialite in Chicago would want to hire you.”
“The insurance premiums would kill our profit margin,” she counters. Then she whispers to me, “I’m going to get up to use the restroom. Would you follow me?”
