Page 104 of Employing Patience

“Trust me.” Art slings a big arm around my shoulders and directs me to the door.

“Where are we going?”

“I was going to tell you, but now I don’t think that I will.”

“Art …”

He laughs. “Springfield. I’ve got a picnic, and they’re doing a … Shakespeare in the park type of thing.”

“Shakespeare?” Yikes. I left school for a reason. Not that I’d tell him that.

“Yeah, yeah, I hear the skepticism in your tone. Where’s the trust?”

“Immediately revoked when you tell me we’re going to watch Shakespeare.”

“Ye of little faith.”

“Oh, no. I already don’t understand you.”

He slaps my ass and opens the car door for me so I can climb in. It throws me for a second as that’s normally something I’d do, but I sort of love the reversal. Being the one who’s taken care of for a change.

He sets the radio on low as we drive.

“Do you like the theatre?” I ask.

Art shrugs. “I like anything that makes me laugh.”

“And Shakespeare makes you laugh?”

“It’s already worth it just from how much it’s thrown you. Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who buys into the myth about Shakespeare being boring.”

“It can’t be a myth if it’s true.”

“He was a potty mouth who made up words and kills off basically everyone.”

“If you say so.”

“You’ll see.” His smug confidence actually has me curious. I can safely say there’s no one else on earth I’d trust when they say Shakespeare is fun than him.

So I guess we’re doing this.

The outdoor amphitheater is filled with families, and Art spreads out a large blanket slightly away from people. He’s got a fuck ton of food, and even though I know this date was a spur-of-the-moment thing, it’s all so organized and smooth that I never would have guessed if he didn’t blurt the invitation out at me today.

“So, do this with lots of guys, huh?” I tease, ignoring the jealous streak.

“Nope. I don’t date.”

“Then what do you call this?”

He lies down on the blanket and pats the spot beside him. “Okay, I didn’t date. Better?”

“But you do now?”

“Yes.”

“With me?” I’m grinning hard, and I love the way he eyes it like I might bite him.

“Looks like it.”

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