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I’m too stressed to hand him any shit, so I’m not surprised when all I hear is a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the phone.
“I’ve called you to give you crap but you’re being far too polite and so now I’m freaked,” he says.
“You’re the mother I never had.”
“That’s more like it,” he says. “So, I understand there’s a date happening tonight?”
Fuck the grapevine, how did he know? Probably Jo. And now he’s baiting me.
“Lucky you,” I say. “Who’s the lucky lady?”
His chuckle warms my ear. “Were you hoping to keep it quiet from me?”
He’s ignoring my comment, as he should.
“Yes, because you’re an asshole and you’d give me shit about it.”
“I’m proud of you, Fabian. Proud that you plucked up the courage to ask her out.”
Hmmm. Do I want to come clean about the “friends” agreement? No. No, I don’t.
“Yes, Mom,” I say. “Actually, she asked me first.”
He lets out a low whistle. The grapevine clearly hasn’t passed on everything. I raise my eyes to the ceiling. The polystyrene is covered in splatters and weird stains—how did those get there? It looks like someone in this place has been twirling their spaghetti too vigorously.
“As your dating coach I’m pretty pleased with that,” he says.
“Wait.” I straighten and pick up my fork, spinning it through my hands. “When did you become my dating coach?” And ugh, we don’t hide things from each other. “Anyway, calm down, this is just a briefing session; she’s asked me to go to her cousin’s wedding with her.”
“Fucking hell! Are you going?”
I laugh. “Society wedding? There was no way I was saying no to that.”
“It’s tuxes and shit? This I have to see. I want pictures of you in a tux.”
Oh shit. A tux? I take the phone away from my ear and pull up the notes app and add it to my list of things I have to ask Kate when she gets here. I glance at the door. No sign of her. But it’s only 7.30 p.m. I was so worried I’d get engrossed in code and forget that I made sure I was really early. I’ve got ages to chat with Janus. I relax back into my chair and put my phone back to my head.
“I think she only asked me because she wants to create trouble at this wedding with her family.”
“Yeah, that’d be right. You’re not interesting at all.” His breath whooshes out. “No woman would want a guy with your tattoos or six-pack, plus, of course, you lead a seriously dull life.”
“Fuck off,” I say, looking up and opening my mouth to put him straight on this whole thing. But I’m stopped in my tracks when I see a head of golden hair in the restaurant doorway. My stomach tightens. She’s early, too.
“I need to go,” I say.
And I hear that start of what sounds like “Good luck” before I hang up.
Kate glances around before her eyes land on me, and the way her face lights up has my gut clenching. She turns with a smile for the waiter as he takes her coat. She’s in tight jeans and some kind of lacey top that molds to her breasts. Her blonde hair is styled like someone’s already had their hands in it. The waiter’s white teeth flash as he gives her smile after smile, and I want to head over and do damage to his face, then the douche stares at her ass as she heads toward me. I stand up and glare at him over her head, and his gaze flicks to mine as his face reddens and he ducks into the back of the restaurant.
“Asshole,” I mutter, sitting down.
“Fabian?” Kate says.
“He was staring at your butt.”
A rose tinge appears on her cheeks as she laughs, then she does a little shimmy of her hips and turns around. Her bottom is pear-shaped and fits her dark jeans perfectly.
I run my hand down my face, clearing my throat.
