Page 63 of Hello Darling
"Well. Better pick a nice restaurant just in case it's the last meal we ever have."
"That's the spirit."
I roll over onto one side, press the phone up closer to my ear. I do love his voice in my ear. “You're not seriously considering this? You and me, I mean.” I would not be able to have this conversation with him if I didn’t have alcohol in my system.
“Aren't you?”
“I'm not a part of your world.”
“Another person is always another world, my dear, waiting to be discovered and explored.”
“Is that a line from a play?”
“It’s something I’ve learned from studying so many plays and characters…you could very easily become my world.”
“Please tell methat’sa line.”
“Depends. Did it work?”
I am quiet, but the truth is, it always works. Everything he says, everything he does, even when I didn’t think it was working on me, it worked.
“I'm sorry, darling, I didn't mean to be flippant. Of course I'm seriously considering this. You're the one who's hesitant. I've been all in from the get go.”
Okay, now that’s cheesy as fuck. "All in from the get go?"
“Chuffed from the start. And if you must know, I already spoke to your dad about it, and I have his consent to publicly date you.”
“You talked to my dad about this?” I sit up again.
“I know how important your family is to you.”
“Yes.”
“Yes. So I figured I should—”
“I mean yes. Let’s go out to dinner. Let’s take this seriously. Let’s be you and me.”
“Good. And another thing.”
“Yes?”
“I want you to know that I saw your photograph on the website for your gym. When I was still in London. I wanted to meet you even before I got here. That’s how chuffed I was.”
Holy shit.
“Where are you?”
“I’m still in my car outside the house.”
I hang up the phone, shove it into my back pocket, fly down the stairs and run out the front door, careful not to slip off the front porch or wipe out as I dash out past the parked cars. As soon as Evan sees me, he opens the car door, meets me at the edge of the driveway, collides with me, our lips smashing together. His hands are on my face and I am grabbing at his coat, pulling him closer. The world is spinning and crashing down around me, but I feel so steady in his arms.
I never once fantasized about kissing a British movie star in a storm, but right now the only thing falling harder than the rain—is me.
* * *
I don’t even have a hangover when I wake up in my old bed, late on Black Friday morning. I can smell coffee and breakfast sausages from downstairs, and my cheeks are still sore from smiling so much. After my dad went to bed last night, I stayed up with Lauren in front of the fire, talking to her about Martin, and then had a late-night text conversation with Evan once I was by myself. It was the best Thanksgiving I’ve had in so many years.
It’s after nine, the gym doesn’t open until ten all through the long weekend, and I don’t have to be in until noon to teach a yoga class. Martin, Keaton and Billy are all already there this morning. I make a call to the deli to confirm that Mrs. Flauvich will be open for dinner tonight, because last year she took the day off to go to the outlet mall with her daughter. “Never again,” she says. “I’ll be open. You coming in?”
