Page 39 of Cross Check Hearts

“Yes. It’s under Aaron Barnett, for a party of two. I think he’s already here.”

“Ah, yes, I seated Mr. Barnett a few minutes ago. Right this way.”

The host leads me through the crowded dining room to a table near to the center where Aaron is seated and facing us. As soon as he spots me, he beams and pushes back from the table to stand. He buttons his navy-blue suit jacket and steps around the table to pull my chair out for me.

I settle into it with a small smile and let him push my chair back to the table. Still standing over me, he rests his hands on my shoulders as I’m putting my purse on the table, and I tense slightly.

It’s a gesture that would feel sweet with someone I was interested in, but now just feels awkward.

“I’m happy you’re here,” Aaron says. For a second, I think he’s going to kiss the top of my head, but he lets me go and takes his seat across from me. There are already menus on the table, so I pick mine up and start thumbing through it since I don’t know what to say. I can’t tell him I’m not as thrilled as he is to be here, but I don’t want to lie, either.

“You look nice,” I finally say, because at least it’s the truth.

He might not be the greatest boyfriend I’ve ever had, but he’s always had a sharp sense of fashion, and tonight’s no exception. Beneath the navy suit jacket, he’s wearing a powder-blue silk button-up and a cream-colored and orange tie. His brown hair is perfectly sculpted in one continuous wave back from his forehead, and his blue eyes glint as he watches me contentedly.

“Thanks, I’m glad you like it.”

He clasps his hands together on the table, and his designer watch flashes in the soft overhead light, reminding me of how different our priorities have always been. On the surface, it all makes sense—a handsome, well-off man pursuing a law student with a promising future—but underneath, it’s all wrong. We look like we match, but we never quitefit.

“So how have you been?” he asks.

I lay my menu down on the table and reach for a sweating glass of water that was already here waiting for me. I take a slow sip, hoping it’ll calm my nerves, then gently set it back on the table. “Okay. I’ve just been busy with school and the studio?—”

“Yeah, I noticed,” he interrupts. “I was actually kind of surprised when you answered my call the other night. I figured you’d be at the studio.”

“Well, I was,” I confirm, although I know better than to tell him who was there with me that night. “You just happened to catch me at the right time.”

Aaron smirks and leans closer to me over the table. “I’m hoping my luck continues tonight.”

I manage a polite smile, uncertain how to respond without encouraging him. My ex didn’t really have a prayer of getting back together with me even before Declan came into the picture, but now that the one-night-stand who rocked my entire world is living in Denver, Aaron truly doesn’t stand a chance. I know I’m going to have to tell him that eventually, and that I’m going to have to risk my parents’ disapproval when I do, but I don’t know how I’m going to do it.

It’s not fair to string him along, but tonight isn’t the right time for that conversation. I owe him more than a public rejection.

“I’ve heard the salmon here is to die for,” Aaron says, pointing at an item on my menu as he picks up his.

The knot in my stomach was already making it hard to think about food, and somehow I don’t think introducing fish into the mix is going to lead to good results, so I scrunch my nose. “I think I want something a little more neutral.”

“The rosemary chicken is also highly recommended.”

“Good to know.”

Several moments of silence pass between us, punctuated by laughter and noise from the tables around us as we examine the menus. But with every second that stretches on, I feel more and more anxious for this night to be over. I don’t know what else Aaron has planned for the evening, but if I know him half as well as I think, I’m sure he’s got some sort of surprise in store for me that he thinks will woo me right back into his arms.

“So how’s school going?” he asks, clearly trying to keep the conversation flowing.

“Not too bad. I had a big test not too long ago that I think I passed. I still haven’t gotten my grade for it yet, so I’m not sure.”

“That sounds like the situation I’m dealing with at the firm with this partnership they keep dangling over my head. They still haven’t offered me a partner slot yet, can you believe that?” he asks, scoffing incredulously.

I open my mouth and then close it again, because it feels like he wasn’t even listening to me. He was just waiting for me to finish so he could talk. Some things about Aaron haven’t changed—he’s still so focused on his own path that he can’t see anyone else’s.

He rests back in his chair with the menu folded out in front of him. “I think I’m going to really, seriously start looking for a new job. I’m sick of this back-and-forth, will-they-won’t-they shit.”

The waitress arrives to introduce herself and take our drink orders, and I’m grateful for the interruption.

“We’ll have a bottle of red for the table, the best you’ve got,” Aaron tells her without asking me, and although the waitress looks to me to give me a chance to order something else, I just nod. It’s easier to go with the flow tonight.

“I know how much you love a good red,” Aaron says with a self-satisfied smile after she leaves.

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