Page 40 of Quiet Beautiful Things

I cock my head.

Ellie: You’re not so bad yourself.

I blow on my fingertips and shine them on my shirt collar.

She rolls her eyes.

We walk to my car. I hold the door for her, not losing sight of the fact that she’s the only woman I’ve ever held the door for.

Once I’m inside, I face her. “Change of plans. I was going to take you to Lloyd’s.” I fingerspell the name of the restaurant. “But it’s close to your work, and I don’t want to get you into trouble or make you feel uncomfortable. Mind if we drive over to White Plains for dinner instead? It won’t take that long.”

“Okay,” she signs, then takes out her phone.

Ellie: It’s not against the rules per se, but I agree with keeping work and private life separate. You didn’t tell Maisy where you were going, did you? It might give her the wrong idea.

The wrong idea? As in, Maisy might think I like Ellie? I do—like her. I like her a lot. But I get the worry. She wouldn’t want Maisy to get hurt if this doesn’t work out. My heart squeezes. Maisy isn’t the only one who would get hurt. Damn. I’m not sure I like this feeling. It’s odd. Different for sure. Confusing. But at the same time… warm.

I just shake my head to answer and then start the car.

The ride is silent, but not at all awkward. Which is also different. We share glances and smiles. I have the urge to hold her hand but surmise it’s too soon. Or maybe I’m just afraid she’ll pull away.Wow… what in the ever-loving fuck is wrong with me?I’ve never been so nervous, careful, and chivalrous around a woman.Why her?

In twenty-five minutes, we’re in White Plains. I didn’t make a reservation so I hope we can get into the French restaurant Mom’s always raving about.

After I exit the car and hand my keys to the valet, I hustle around to Ellie’s side. I don’t take her hand, as I’m still unsure what she thinks of all this. I do, however, put a palm on the small of her back as we approach the entrance. She stiffens at my touch, then relaxes. The relief rushing through me is as immediate as it is unexpected.

Inside, the hostess asks, “Name on the reservation?”

“Ah, damn. I don’t have a reservation. Coming here was spontaneous.”

“We have a two-hour wait for walk-ins, sir.”

“Blake Montana?” someone shouts behind me.

I turn to see a tall brunette who looks vaguely familiar. She’s wearing a tight dress and is heavily pregnant.

She walks toward me sporting a smile. “You have no idea who I am, do you?” She rolls her eyes when she sees my deer-in-headlights look. “It’s okay, we were kind of drunk that night. I’m Julie. From school?”

My eyes go to her belly and suddenly I’m terrified. I look at Ellie wondering if she’s picking up any of this. She looks more than a little uncomfortable.

“Julie. Of course. Sorry about that.”

She touches her belly and chortles. “Oh my god. You didn’t think…” Laughter bellows out of her. “Shit, I think I might have just peed a little.” A man comes up next to her. “Blake, this ismy husband, Tim Hanson. Tim, this is Blake Montana. We took Business Analytics together.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. I took that class two years ago. I donotneed another surprise after what I’ve been through.

“This is Ellie,” I say and sign. I turn to Ellie and fingerspell Julie and Tim.

“Oh,” Julie says to Ellie. “You’re deaf. Cool.” She overdramatically waves at her.

“Mr. Montana?” the hostess calls behind me.

I wasn’t aware I gave her my name. I turn and wait for her to continue.

The hostess smiles. “Your table is ready.”

“What happened to the two-hour wait?”

“Your parents are some of our best customers,” she says. “Right this way.”

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