Page 88 of The Plus Ones
“One o’clock.”
“Wear socks.”
“I’m only sockless when I wear loafers and flip-flops, asshat.”
“Do you wear slippers at home?”
“Affirmative. I have two pairs of Brooks Brothers slippers—one for cold weather, one for warm—and I wear socks with neither of them.”
I slap my forehead. How on earth did I end up with a hoity toity pretty boy who wears Brooks Brothers slippers? My dad would laugh so hard.
“Don’t tell me I’m your first boyfriend to wear Brooks Brothers slippers.” He smirks.
“I guess you’re my first boyfriend who can afford slippers. Have you taught Jackpot to carry your slippers to you when you come home?”
“Sure. He brings me my slippers and the New York Times and then makes me an Old Fashioned and curls up at my feet while gazing up at me longingly.”
“One day.”
“Yes. One day.”
I yawn. “Excuse me. I can’t believe I’m yawning when this conversation is so stimulating.”
“It’s because you’re no longer anxious now that you can see my face and hear my voice.”
Oh my God, that is totally what it is.
“Or it’s because…” Nope. I got nothing. My brain can’t even come up with a snarky response. I’m broken. Keaton fucking Bridges has broken my brain. I sigh again—a defeated woman. “Yeah. That’s what it is.”
“Sweet dreams,Ute. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”
“I can’t wait to see you either. Bye.”
He waves, and I tap the red icon before I say something stupid likeI love you.
* * *
I made sure to leave my office earlier than necessary before lunch because I want to be there to see Keaton’s face when he walks into TGI Fridays for the first time in his life.
I wait near the hostess stand, facing the door and rubbing my hands together in anticipation.
I haven’t been here in so long. This restaurant chain has a special place in my heart because when I was a kid, my dad would take my brother and me there to meet up with my mother after work, every other month. When I was twelve, it seemed like such a fun place to dine, and I imagined hanging out there with friends once I was in college. They served every kind of food that my brother and I wanted to eat and all the cocktails I couldn’t wait to drink once I had a fake ID. When I was in college, Aimee officially became my BFF when she was the only person I knew there who would accompany me to the Ann Arbor location. Turned out TGI Fridays was not considered cool by many people over the age of fourteen in college towns—go figure. When she moved to Brooklyn, she became the only person who would ever join me at this location. I couldn’t even get people to come ironically. I mean, I don’t blame them—I wouldn’t come here by myself. But it says “home” to me, and sometimes a girl needs a slider or four and a margarita or six. I haven’t been able to get Aimee here since she had Finn, and it’s probably just as well. Now that I’m in my thirties, I need to choose everything more wisely. Like appetizers and boyfriends.
I don’t even realize how nervous I am about whether Keaton will actually show up or not, until he actually shows up. I see him step out of his car as Manny drops him off. He’s wearing a charcoal gray wool overcoat and a long black scarf, and he looks so stylish and striking I actually catch my breath when he walks in.
“Mr. Bridges!” the hostess calls out before I can find my voice. “Nice to see you again!”
Keaton removes his gloves and holds his hand out to shake hers, nodding at everyone in the waiting area like he’s entering a country club.
TGIWTF?
“My darling,” he says to me, kissing me on the cheek and hugging me.
He smells so fucking good I want to bite his neck.
“You been waiting long?”
“Are you kidding me? You’ve been here before?”
