Page 45 of Upshot

“Thank you, Rand,” Mom says.

“My pleasure, Mrs. Caraway.” I noticed he strategically blocked Reed to get to Mom’s door first. Smart play. They head for the restaurant. I hang back to talk to Rand.

“Thanks for doing this. Dad is suddenly all ‘he’s a serial killer.’”

“Your dad thinks I’m a serial killer? That doesn’t bode well for a peaceful dinner.”

“Well, he didn’t use those exact words,” I say.

“That’s at least something. Come on, they’re going to think I’ve hauled you to my underground lair if we don’t get in there.” Rand opens the door for me.

“Wait.” I stop and turn to him. “We need to be on the same page for the interrogation. Are we boyfriend and girlfriend, just friends, friends with benefits, what?”

He stares at me for a beat. “By all means, let’s tell your father we’re friends with benefits. That should go over well.”

“Gigolo?”

“Sounds good.” He shrugs. I continue toward our table, but I can hear him mumble behind me. “Friends with benefits. Are you looking to get me killed?” But I guess gigolo is okay?

“Get lost?” Dad asks as we reach the table.

“No, sir. Just wanted to make sure I dressed appropriately. Brontë was critiquing my wardrobe,” Rand responds. “Austen.” He gives her one of those two-cheek kisses then shakes Reed’s hand. Moving past Reed, he reaches Eliot.

“Kiss me, and they won’t find the body,” she says.

“Fair enough.” He moves on to shake my father’s hand before returning to my side. “Thank you for inviting me,” he says to my family. He is turning on the charm.

And, while I’m thinking about it, let’s go back to that comment about his wardrobe. He’s dressed in charcoal slacks and a deep blue dress shirt. He’s a walking wet dream. I just want to set that record straight.

I notice other things about him when he sits down between Mom and me. He’s very clean shaven. As in, he must have shaved right before walking out the door. His hair is still damp, and his cologne is one I haven’t smelled before. He smells like something I want to dive into and swim around in a while.

“You smell lovely,” Mom says, leaning toward Rand. “What is that?” I watch a slight shade of pink creep up his neck.

“Penhaligon,” he says.

“Well, that’s a mouthful.” She laughs.

“It’s not what you had on earlier,” I state. “What was that?”

“Dolce and Gabbana. I don’t wear this that often.”

“Well, thank god you passed the smell test,” Eliot says.

“Yes. Very close call.” He smirks.

“What exactly do you do?” Dad says out of the blue. “To afford the fancy perfumes.” The receding blush quickly returns to Rand’s neck. “I know you’re in real estate, but what part?”

“I’m in acquisitions. We buy both commercial and residential properties that have fallen into disrepair and restore them.”

“Do you flip them?”

“Sometimes. We’ll sell some of our projects to companies looking for finished properties. But we also have a management division that oversees the properties we decide to manage ourselves. We handle everything from high-end condos to low-income housing. It just depends on what we find. My job is to flush out our next project.”

Rand is saved from Dad’s interrogation by the waitress. We order burgers, except Eliot, who chooses a salad for some crazy reason. She’s been on a diet for as long as I can remember. No one has ever been able to convince her that she is beautiful just the way she is. I mean, she got the great boobs. Austen and I had to settle for B cups, as in boy.

“Tell us about your family,” Dad says the minute the waitress walks away.

“Dad!” I feel Rand’s strong hand squeeze my leg.

---