Page 12 of Making A Mess of Things

She looked at him. He still hadn’t said a word, which was unusual, and he was gawking at her.

“What?” she snapped, slamming the menu down. “Why are you gaping at me? Did I suddenly spout horns?”

“Ah,” he said, clearing his throat. “It’s just I’ve never seen your hair down. It’s quite…adequate.”

That was the last straw. She spent nearly three hours in that chair being tortured, and her hair was adequate. Either he was blind, or the salon people lied to her by telling her how gorgeous she looked.

“You’ve got to be kidding.” She crossed her arms. “Adequate. Is that the best you can come up with?”

“Okay.” He held up his hands. “You got me. It’s quite stunning, more so than I imagined."

Suddenly, she was speechless, and dangerous butterflies twirled inside her stomach.

“You’re not going to cry again, are you?” he asked, worried lines darting across his handsome face.

She bit back a smile. He sounded apprehensive. “I told you I’m not that fragile. Why did you send me so early?”

“I’m sorry, but to be fair, you’re always late. Paris books out weeks ahead. I just sent you a little earlier.”

“You mean an hour.”

“They have snacks and lovely smoothies,” he said with a smile.

She rolled her eyes. “Have you ever actually been there?”

“No, but Vivian likes it.”

“The snacks are horrible, and the smoothies are beyond disgusting. Did I mention I had to skip breakfast to be on time, and there were no cafes nearby?”

She crossed her arms, anger resurfacing. He could be so smug and dense sometimes, but he looked guilty. She’d give him that.

“I’m sorry, but tonight is important and--” he started to say.

“Can I take your orders?” interrupted a young woman as she approached their table. “Looks like you two might be hungry. We have delicious salads.”

“I’ll take a burger with extra fries and a chocolate shake,” Suzy said, her stomach rumbling. “Thank you.”

“I’ll do your cobb salad, hold the dressing,” he said.

“To drink?” the server asked, scribbling their orders on a small paper pad.

“Just water,” he mumbled.

Suzy glanced at him. He looked unhappy with his decision.

The young woman nodded, collected their menus, and walked away.

“Do you always eat so healthy?” she asked.

He shrugged.

The mysterious woman at the gallery told her he didn’t know how to have fun, which must include having no salad dressing. No wonder he was crabby all the time.

“You can have some of my fries if you want,” she said.

“That’s okay.” His shoulders slumped just a little. “I’m perfectly happy with my salad.”

During their lunch, he had more than some of her fries. He even ended up ordering a shake, plain vanilla, but still, he smiled at the first sip.

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