Page 24 of Midnight Valentine
No sooner have the words left my lips than Suzanne is scooting over in her side of the booth. “Nice to meet you, Craig!” she says brightly, all smiles and sweetness. “Are you having dinner alone?”
“Yep.”
Don’t say it, Suzanne.
“Why don’t you join us?”
Shit.
Craig looks at me. Of course I’m not going to be Ultra Super Mega Bitch and send him away, so I smile and pretend to be welcoming. “Yes, please join us.”
Craig slides into the booth beside Suzanne, and the two of them sit there grinning at each other while I wonder at what age it becomes socially acceptable to say whatever you’re really thinking and do whatever you want, regardless of what’s polite. Seventy? Eighty?
God, I can’t wait.
The next two hours are hell. Between Craig’s and Suzanne’s blistering hormones and my dinner—which was supposed to be calamari but instead tastes suspiciously like fried rubber bands—I start to feel sick.
And sweet Jesus, can Craig talk. Once he sits down, he doesn’t take a breath. On and on he goes, about his work, his company, his plans for expansion, yada yada yada. It’s exhausting. Not once does he ask Suzanne or me a question. It’s like we were only born to sit and listen to him blather on while we smile supportively and strain our spines as we show off our boobs.
I don’t even have the pleasure of getting plastered, because I never drink unless I’m at home. And I can tell by Suzanne’s third glass of wine that I’m going to be the one driving there.
At quarter past eight, my patience has been worn to a nub by Craig’s ceaseless drone. I catch the waitress’s eye and motion for the check. When it comes, Craig takes it from her hand, waving dismissively when I protest.
“It’s my pleasure.” He smiles at Suzanne, who smiles dreamily back at him.
I doubt it would be his pleasure if he knew I’m seriously considering not hiring him for my ridiculously expensive renovation, but maybe Suzanne’s ample assets will soften the blow.
“I can’t believe we’ve never met before,” she complains prettily, toying with the sleeve of his shirt. “I give my clients referrals for your company all the time, but I’ve only met your foreman.”
“Well, now you’ve met me.” Craig’s smile looks dangerous. “I hope it wasn’t a disappointment.”
Suzanne giggles like a schoolgirl, and it’s all I can do not to throw my napkin in her face. “This was wonderful,” I say, “and it was so nice to see you, Craig.” I slide toward the edge of the booth, hoping they’ll take the hint. When they don’t, I add pointedly, “But I’m feeling a bit tired, so…”
Pulling himself out of the spell of Suzanne’s boobs, Craig remembers his manners and stands. “Of course. I should let you ladies go. Megan, it was a pleasure to see you again. I’ll be sending that paperwork over Monday.”
He shakes my hand. I try not to feel like we’re making a deal. He turns to Suzanne, still sitting in the booth, looking forlorn that he’s leaving. “Suzanne, I honestly can’t remember the last time I had so much fun talking to someone.”
She says, “You need to get my number so you can have fun again soon.”
Damn. This girl is a go-getter, that’s for sure.
But, shockingly, Craig doesn’t take the bait. He says lightly, “Yeah, if I need a real estate agent I’ll definitely give you a call. I can get your number from Megan.”
Suzanne’s smile freezes in place.
Craig says, “Ladies,” makes a motion like he’s tipping his hat, then turns around and walks away.
When he’s gone, Suzanne’s voice comes out flat. “What the hell was that?”
“He must have a girlfriend.” When she looks at me, I shrug. “You guys obviously had mad chemistry. It’s the only explanation.”
“So it wasn’t in my head? He was flirting with me, right?”
“Totally. At one point, I thought he was going to take his junk out and ask you to fondle it under the table.”
“Which I totally would’ve. The man is smoking hot!”
She says that so loudly it has people’s heads turning. I stand, take her hand, and help her out of the booth, staggering a little when she gives me her weight because I wasn’t ready for it.
