Page 82 of One Night Only
“I’ve been in love with her since the moment I saw her,” I say, as if it’s obvious. “But what do Ido?” I emphasize each word.
Robbie takes a step back, puffing air from his cheeks, looking down at the ground in serious contemplation before meeting my eyes again with a sly grin. “Well, if it were me, this is what I’d do…”
CHAPTER 32
EMILY
This is so awkward. I’ve never been to Shabbat dinner before, so I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it sure as hell wasn’t a candlelit dining room with only four chairs, a private chef, and a personal waiter. Yet here we are. Andy and Jenn, and Simon and me. It’s too damn cozy, and I want to go home, but I know if I fake another migraine, Andy will get suspicious.
When I showed up, I was left speechless from the house alone. Andy isn’t just rich. Andy isrich, rich. A four-story brownstone on a tree-lined street in Park Slope—this place is ridiculous. I stepped into the grand entry hall, taken aback by the art on the walls, the fresh flowers literally everywhere. Pure opulence.
As I gave Andy my coat, Jenn walked me up the stairs, which is when I saw Simon standing there looking every bit the handsome off-duty doctor, wearing a cashmere sweater and khakis. I said hi, indulged him with a hug, but then when I looked around, ready to introduce myself to the other guests, I realized there were no other guests. It was just us.
“How has your week been?” Simon asks, smiling as he takes a sip from his wine.
I swallow my mouthful of challah, washing it down with some wine. “Um, it’s been good. Busy.” I smile tightly.
“Busy?” Jenn shrieks. “I hope Andy isn’t working you too hard, sweetie.”
I look across the table to see Jenn swat her husband’s arm playfully with her napkin.
“It’s the week before holidays, honey,” she chides Andy playfully.
“Honey,” Andy says almost mockingly. “With playoffs fast approaching and trade deadlines coming up, this is one of the busiest times in the industry.” He offers me a contrite smile.
“How has your week been?” I ask Simon, not that I really care. But I feel the need to change the subject away from Andy and sports and the possibility of bringing up his clients. Specifically of the six-foot-four, green-eyed type who’s had his tongue deep inside of me.
“Busy, too,” Simon answers with a nod. But that’s it. He’s not much of a talker… no wonder he can’t find a woman.
I wish Dallas was here. At least he isn’t boring.
As the conversation shifts to some benefit Jenn is organizing on behalf of one of the many boards she’s on, my mind drifts to Dallas, and my heart lurches in my chest because it’s only then that I realize I miss him. Likereallymiss him.
We haven’t spoken much since our FaceTime call went from literal phone sex to me confessing about tonight and it ending with an obvious weight hanging over us. Since then, we’ve shared text messages, but it’s been strained, even in text form. I know he’s been busy, and I also know he might not be too happy considering they’ve lost all three games they’ve played this week, but I miss him and I just wish I could see him. But he arrived back in town this morning, and it’s not lost on me that I haven’t heard from him.
I try to conceal the forlorn sigh that racks through me as I eat my soup, offering the occasional smile as Jenn continues talking, but we’re suddenly interrupted by the sound of what I can onlyassume to be the doorbell chiming the tune of “Joy To The World.” Again, rich people.
“Are you expecting anyone?” Andy asks Jenn quietly, wiping his mouth with his napkin.
“No.” Jenn shakes her head. “Unless it’s an Amazon delivery then… guilty as charged.” She playfully holds her hands in the air with a light giggle which makes me smile.
“They do deliver at all times during the holidays,” Simon says and I almost roll my eyes because there’s just something so condescending about him.
The waiter enters the dining room, looking at Andy. “Shall I answer it?”
“Oh, yes, please.” Andy smiles.
The man exits the rooms, his footsteps disappearing down the stairs.
“So, Emily—” Jenn looks at me with a big smile. “What are your plans for Christmas?”
“I’m heading home to my parents’ house in Staten Island, and we’ll probably stay there for a few days.”
“Oh, how lovely,” Jenn swoons. “I love a family Christmas.”
I glance around, noting the decorations that hang about. “Do you… celebrate… Christmas?” I don’t want to come across as rude, or worse, ignorant, but I’m not aware of Jewish people celebrating Christmas so much as Hannukah.
Jenn and Andy look at one another, sharing a knowing smile. “Our families are more traditional, but we celebrate both Hanukkah and Christmas. The kids love it.”
