Page 20 of One Week Wingman

“It was a callout to Roxy’s apartment,” he says. “She’d left a candle burning and it set off the fire alarm.”

“Oh no!” Mom exclaims. “That’s not what you said.” She looks at me accusingly.

“He’s joking!” I tell her brightly. “We shared a cab and hit it off, and by the time we got to my apartment, he’d asked for my number.”

“That’s not quite how I remember it,” Sebastian says, that look of mischief back in his eyes. “You made your intentions perfectly clear. I was practically fending her off,” he adds. “I had visions of you chasing me down Second Avenue, waving your phone.”

I smile through a clenched jaw. “You must be mixing me up with someone else.”

“I could never mistake you for anyone else,” Seb replies, meeting my eyes in a wicked grin. “You are entirely unique.”

“So romantic,” my mom beams.

I exhale. Disaster averted. Now if I can just keep Seb from—

“Did she tell you about our first date?” he announces loudly.

I glare, like I can stop him. But of course, I can’t.

“Well, I had planned to take her to this quiet little bistro in the East Village,” Seb begins, looking at me fondly. “Romantic, secluded. The perfect place to really get to know someone. But Roxy had other plans. She wanted to go dancing. When I arrived to pick her up, she was wearing the craziest outfit. What was it, pookie?”

Pookie? I want to crawl under the table and hide, but my family are all watching me, waiting for my answer.

“Just… a dress.” I manage, keeping a smile plastered on my face. With all the fake beaming I’m doing this week, I’m going to need to ice my cheeks.

Sebastian chortles. “It was hardly just a dress. It could have stopped traffic. And did. Right there on Thirty-second street. Nearly gave a cabbie a heart attack,” he adds.

“Wow, Roxy,” Daisy says, and her tone is just shy of admiring. “I didn’t even know you had clothes like that.”

“I borrowed it from a friend,” I manage. “It was kind of a joke.”

“Well I didn’t find it funny, I can tell you,” Seb says. “When I close my eyes, I can still see her dancing up on the bar, a shot glass in each hand, shaking her—”

I take my best guess at his leg and boot him under the table. He quickly covers his yelp with a laugh and says, “You know I’m only teasing, sausage.”

“Sausage,” Daisy giggles. “That’s so cute. Jason and I call each othermuffinbecause—”

“Are you sure Mom and Phil want to know?” I interrupt, afraid of what she’s about to say.

“Of course! It’s so cute. On one of our first dates, we had a picnic in the park—you know, under the sycamore?”

Ah, one of Ashford Falls’ favorite make-out spots. I’m pretty sure Jason and I had a ‘picnic’ there once, too.

“I made sandwiches and Jason brought this basket of mini muffins.” Daisy beams. “And I started calling him muffin that day and now he calls me muffin, too.”

“Adorable,” I lie, ignoring how Daisy’s hands have disappeared under the table and Jason’s ears have turned bright pink.

Suddenly, I’m so tired, I could lay down in the grass and take a nap. It’s been a long day, what with all the big revelations, and I’m not sure how much longer I can keep up this performance.

Luckily, dinner wraps up, and we start to clear the dishes. Seb pushes his chair back to help. “Let me get that for you, Lorna.”

Mom flutters. “No, don’t be silly. You go relax.”

“I insist,” he says, and they bicker happily all the way into the house.

I grab some dishes and trail behind, nervous to let him out of my sight for too long. Lord knows what kind of stories he’ll spin, if I leave him unattended with my family.

“Tell me about where you grew up?” My mom is saying, as Seb rolls up his sleeves and gets started rinsing dishes for the dishwasher.

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