Page 50 of Is This for Real?
We walk over to where Ciara is standing.
“We’re about to go to the restaurant,” she says.
Rory excuses himself to run to the bathroom.
“I was just invited to make a miniature room box for an APT-TV charity event,” I say. “I was thinking of making an art gallery. I was wondering if you thought any of your artists would be interested in making one-twelfth-size paintings? The proceeds benefit the Fresh Air Fund and The Boys and Girls Club. And I’d ask APT-TV to include the artists in the publicity.”
“I should think so.” Ciara nods. “That’s a great opportunity for you, too.”
“I know,” I say.
“Rory told me about your blog. I’ve been following it. Your scenes are really like art. I love those first dating scenes of you and Rory.”
Ah, so that’s why she didn’t look surprised at Callie’s announcement. “It’s not actually me and Rory.”
Ciara raises her eyebrow skeptically. “Yes, I’m impressed that Rory doesn’t mind that it’s so public,” Ciara says. “Lucio sometimes minded when my paintings were too revealing—and I never went as far as Rafael.”
“I’m not . . .”
“You don’t have to defend yourself to me. I just like the way you pose the dolls, like the way Piper looks at Rob when he’s not looking, and Rob looks at her when she’s not looking. You really capture that feeling of desire and insecurity. But I do hope you’re not actually considering that ex-boyfriend?”
I feel like a deer caught in the headlights, even though I’m not considering Jamie. “No. I’m definitely over him. But every storyline needs an antagonist.”
Ciara smiles. “Good point.” She glances over at the corner where Rafael is holding court. “Well, I should scoop up my guests, and we should head over to the restaurant. I’ll ask Rafael if he wants to donate a miniature painting.”
“That would be amazing. Thank you!”
Rory joins me. We walk toward the door. Many of the paintings have green stickers, so the show did well.
My gaze meets his. “What did you tell your mom?”
He rubs his forehead. “I said it’s complicated. And then someone interrupted us.”
“We should sit apart during these drinks so we don’t have to be lovey-dovey.”
Rory shakes his head. “Lovey-dovey. Is that from second grade?” He gives his half-smile.
“I wouldn’t put it past Callie to start singing, ‘Rory and Penny sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.’”
His gaze meets mine, then drops to my lips; he looks like he is contemplating kissing me. My pulse skitters. I lean toward him, like I am being pulled; I hold myself upright.
His jaw tightens, and he says, “Well, she doesn’t know our rules, so she may be afraid of the consequences of that.”
“Maybe.” I step back.
His mom is shaking hands and saying goodbye to the remaining patrons. Then she raises her hand and gestures for us all to join her. Callie comes back in through the front door and meets us. Ciara shepherds her little group down the tree-lined street to the café at the corner.
“Your parents didn’t seem to know that you guys are dating,” Callie says.
“I don’t tell my parents everything,” Rory says.
“Yes, you do,” Callie says.
Rory is very tight with his parents. Sometimes it hurts to see how close they are because it reminds me of the big, gaping hole in my life.
I shiver. It’s cold outside, and I button my coat all the way up.
Ciara has reserved a table for twelve. I sit across from Rory. Callie looks surprised—but pleased—and sits next to him. I turn to the woman on my right. She introduces herself as Rafael’s girlfriend.
