Page 9 of Shortcake
“And I’m very team Stefan. I bet he would like spaghetti westerns.” He leaned forward, taking the delicate stem of his wine glass between his fingers, and smiling confidently like he’d won some sort of argument. Swirling the wine in his glass, he took a final, triumphant sip.
I rolled my eyes. “I meant, what did you think of Vampire Diaries as a whole?”
“Well… I’m not a high school girl, so it wasn’t really my thing.”
“Ohhhhh, burn.” I sat forward as well, leaning my elbows on the table. “Well…I’mnot a cranky, seventy-year-old retired man… so westerns aren’t reallymything.”
He clutched his heart and fell back into his seat. “Anita, you’re killing me.”
Anita. All this connection and he still didn’t know my real name. Nor I, his. My smile faded.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, suddenly concerned. “What’d I say?”
I shook my head, glancing down at my bare fingers. The only jewelry I’d brought on this trip were the small handful of things Dante had bought me in our two years together. An opal ring. Gold hoop earrings. A jade bracelet. But I’d thrown them all out the night we broke up.
“It just occurred to me, we still don’t know each other’s names.”
His concerned scowl softened with a blink. “Is that all?”
“All?” I laughed, but it was far from humorous. “We’ve spent the night together. And now we’re here, having this amazing date. You could be a serial killer or something.”
His shoulders bunched around his ears and I winced at the accusation. “Shit. I didn’t mean… I don’t think you’re a serial killer. But I’m just saying it’s a little weird that we never exchanged names.”
“We can change that, you know?”
I swallowed the dry lump in my throat. If I learned his name, it would be over for my stupid, reckless heart. I’d never stop thinking about him. “We said it was a two-night thing. That’s it.”
If I wasn’t mistaken, something that looked like pain resonated in his eyes. “We can keep it to two-nights and still know each other’s names.” Another pause before he added, “It’s your call. You run this show.”
A strange chirping sound escaped me and my ears were doing this obnoxious ringing thing because I couldn’t find the words to admit my name. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to. I just wasn’t sure it was a good idea. He lived here in New York. I didn’t. There was no way we could have anything beyond this one weekend together.
But still… would first names be so bad?
I locked onto the glass of wine in front of me. Wine. Wine that I’d never thought I could like or be sophisticated enough to order and drink. Thanks to this man, I felt different. More refined. Even having met him in a slutty cop costume.
I opened my mouth, about to tell him my name when my phone buzzed again. This time, Liam.
“It’s my brother,” I murmured. “Again.” It was the third time since Brawny had sat down that one of my brothers had called.
“Maybe you should answer it,” he said. “It seems like they’re really trying to reach you.”
Dammit. He was probably right. “I’ll be right back.” I took the phone outside of the restaurant to take the call.
“Liam, what!?” I answered.
“Jesus Christ, there you are!”
“I’m in New York. You knew that.” I sighed, looking impatiently up at the tall buildings surrounding me. Crisp, autumn air whipped through the streets like a wind tunnel, catching my hair and blowing it around.
“It’s… it’s mom. Addy. It’s not good.”
I went stiff, my spine a steel rod. “What’s wrong? She was fine when I left a few days ago.”
“She… she wanted to wait to tell you until you got back, but you didn’t give any of us your travel schedule—”
I squeezed my eyes shut. I was sort of a loner like that. I operated on a need-to-know basis and it didn’t seem like my brothers needed to know my travel schedule. Especially since I didn’t know where this weekend would take me. I half expected Dante to sweep me up after my proposal and bring me home to meet his parents finally.
Now I knew why he had never introduced me to them.
