Page 5 of Pretty Please Me
“It’s fine. I was starting to worry, though. It’s good to see you, Nat.” I stand to greet her, going in for a kiss on the mouth, but she turns her face landing my kiss on her cheek.
Her eyes widen, and she lifts her menu to cover her face. “Let’s see, what do I want to eat? Have they added anything good to the menu?”
I pour her a glass of wine as I study her. She’s acting odd. As if nervous about something.
She takes a long sip, downing half the glass in one gulp. “Oh, you know what, I haven’t had lobster in a while. That would be good. Don’t you think?”
I place my napkin in my lap and quirk a brow. “Is everything okay? You’re acting strange this evening.”
“Oh, yes, everything is just fine. I’m just hungry, that’s all.” She offers me an exaggerated smile that rivals a creepy porcelain doll.
I stare at her for a beat before Bethany returns to take our order. When she finally walks away, I narrow my eyes on Natalie. “Spill it. What’s really going on? Why’d you insist on having dinner tonight?”
She fidgets with her napkin and grimaces. “I met someone,” she blurts. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, but we were at this work party together, and we just hit it off.”
“I see—”
“I’m crazy about him, Sam. Like, I think he actually may be the one… or at least the one for now. He makes me feel alive, ya know? Like I can be anyone I want when I’m with him.” She takes another sip of wine and swallows with a gulp. “We want the same things, too,” she says in almost a whisper.
I refill our glasses as the silence builds between us before I finally speak. “I’m happy for you, Nat.” I hold my glass up in a toast, and she sighs in relief. “To new beginnings.”
We clink our glasses, and I place my hand on top of hers on the table. “You know, all I want is what’s best for you. I don’t know why you were so nervous to tell me.”
She smiles, and this time, it’s a real smile because her eyes squint in the corners. “Why are you so amazing? I show up late and tell you I’ve met someone, and you just pour me another glass of your crazy expensive wine?”
I shrug and clasp my hands loosely over the stem of my glass. “I happen to think this news should be celebrated. It’s not every day you fall in love.”
She twirls her glass as she leans back in her seat, much more relaxed than five minutes ago. “And what about you, Sam? Do you think you’ll fall in love someday? If you met the right person?”
I stare down at the white tablecloth with a slight shake of my head. “No, Natalie, love is not something that interests me. I think I’ll stick to my arrangements, but I’m happy for you and–?”
“Conner,” she answers.
“Conner.” I nod. “I don’t have to know him to know he’s a lucky guy. I hope he treats you how you deserve to be treated?” I lift an eyebrow in question.
“He does. Don’t worry about that.” She assures me with a blushing smile.
“Good. Then why don’t you tell me how you two met.”
THREE
Maggie
Ten the next morning comes a lot earlier when you’re nursing a hangover crafted by copious amounts of shiraz, sugar, and humiliation. Nevertheless, there aren’t many things that could keep me from meeting my girls for brunch.
I spot Gwen’s bright blonde hair when I round the corner to our favorite outdoor brunch place and let myself in through the gate to join them.
Gwen sits in a reclined position with her hands resting on her large baby bump and her feet propped up in the seat beside her. “Hey, Mags, you skinny bitch,” she mutters in greeting, and I look at Elliot in confusion.
“She’s upset because she split her pants at the farmer’s market this morning,” Elliot explains as she pulls me into a hug. “It’s so good to see you, Mags!” She pulls away to take a better look at me and narrows her eyes. “You seem off… Are you feeling okay?”
I brush her off and take a seat across from a grumpy Gwen. “Just tired. I’ve been so busy at the studio lately. We’ve expanded our schedule, and I just hired two new instructors to teach weekend classes. It’s been a lot.” I give her a reassuring smile as I pretend to examine the menu… as if I’d actually change my usual order.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. “So, tell me what you’ve been up to lately?” I ask as a message pops up on my screen. My eyes widen as a wave of panic forms a knot in my stomach. Elliot goes into a full retelling of one of her latest embarrassing foot-in-mouth work stories, but she might as well be a grown-up in a Charlie Brown movie because I can’t hear a word she’s saying.
I re-read the message again and again, trying my best not to look distracted.
Trent Cane
