Page 82 of Kiss My Glass
“I’d like that, too. I bought a dress with me to change into but I’ve run out of energy.” I lift my head from his chest and look up into his warm, kind blue eyes. “Do you want to drive my car?”
His face lights up instantly. “Hell yes! Hand me those keys.”
Of course, he has to push the driver’s seat back about six inches. I look on as he checks out the instrumentation and adjusts the mirrors, with as much seriousness as if he’s setting up a race car. With a pang, I realize that Danny doesn’t just like cars, he loves them. They’re his passion and his world, and that’s what Iwant to be. I want to be more important to him than anything.
This might be my pent-up emotion talking, so I won’t say it out loud. Not yet. But I’ll start planning. Figure out what needs to be done to make Danny and I viable.
“Oh man, I love this car.” Danny’s grinning from ear to ear. “Ever got it up to top speed?”
“No!” I laugh. “And don’t you dare try! You’ll break it!”
“Impossible. It’s German,” he says, but thankfully sticks to the thirty-five-mile speed limit.
He parks in the center of town and leads me to a cozy-looking place with yellow-framed windows and a lot of greenery. We haven’t booked, but Danny charms the maître-d’ into giving us two seats at the bar. I’m always a little anxious in a new restaurant, just in case there’s nothing on the menu I can eat. So, I’m relieved to see this menu is pretty simple, only a few ingredients in every dish, and at least one dish where all those ingredients are palatable to me.
“I’m guessing you’ve been here before,” I say to Danny. “You knew it would be okay for me.”
“With my mom and dad,” he confirms. “Dad won’t eat anywhere unless all the produce is forensically certified as fresh, local and organic. This place is one of the few he’ll dine out at.”
The waiter takes our orders. We decide to risk a glass of wine each. Figure we’ve earned it.
“Do you think your dad is happy he’s going to be a grandfather?” I ask.
“Interesting question.” Danny chews on his bottom lip. “Dad’s never been great at accepting his own mortality, so I’m not sure how he feels about being promoted to Grandad. Or ‘Sir’ as he called his own grandfather.”
I hoot with laughter. “Sir?? You are kidding me?”
“No indeed,” says Danny, with a grin. “Explains a lot, doesn’t it?”
“Wow.” I have a sudden thought. “I wonder what my mom will want to be called? Seems bizarre to think of her as a grandma.”
“Yep, your mom is a stunning woman,” says Danny. “Doesn’t look her age at all.”
I glare at him. “Don’tyoustart! Bad enough to have Cam fawning all over her still.”
“Did you think he was?” Danny raises his eyebrows. “I’d say Cam’s survival instincts are better honed than that. Mine certainly would be if I were in a relationship with Ava.”
He winces. “That came out very wrong, but you know what I mean.”
“Cam drove all the way to the airport to pick her up and bring her back. That’s a four-hour round trip,” I point out. “She must have other friends she could have called on. She could even have taken the bus. But as usual, Mom clicked her fingers and Cam came running.”
Our wine glasses arrive, and I take a big swig of mine. Danny’s watching me, his expression earnest and a little wary.
“Cam told me how he apologized to you the other night,” he says. “Will you ever forgive him?”
It’s a totally reasonable question, but it pushes my anger buttons hard. “Why should I?”
Danny shrugs. He’s being conciliatory, and the provoked irrational part of me resents it.
“Are you ever going to forgive your dad?” I clap back.
Fortunately, the waiter chooses that moment to present us with our entrees. It’s enough to circuit-break my anger and let me regain my self-control.
“I’m really sorry, Danny,” I say. “I have a bad habit of lashing out when I’m feeling stuff I don’t want to feel.”
“Well, that’s too bad,” he says, lightly. “Because, of course, I expect you to be as perfect as I am. Executing everything in life with flawless excellence and flair.”
“You’re a dick.” I say it with a smile.
