Chapter 5
I was definitely over dressed for O’Shaunnessy’s. My little emerald dress was also backless—what can I say? I think my back is one of my best features. And the dress was short, coming half way down my thighs. The front was a cowl neck so it hinted but didn’t give much away. I wore gold hoops, gold shoes, and had a black clutch. I also had an overnight bag. I wasn’t exactly subtle. I was feeling really nervous. A whole weekend alone with Aaron was a big thing. Not as big as marrying the guy, of course.
“Well hello, darling’” said Jimmy, the bartender. “What have you gone and done with our Piper?”
The boys at the bar turned and wolf-whistled. I saw Aaron bristle from his place in our corner booth. His eyes ran up and down me in a way I would have liked his hands to if this had been a real date.
“You had your chance boys. I’ve been coming in for years and not one of you even so much as asked me out, so live and learn.”
“You never looked like that, darling’.”
“Yeah, but sadly, Jimmy, you’ve always looked like that,” said one of the other lads. The bar erupted into good natured laughter and the men returned their attention to each other.
I headed over to Aaron who stood to greet me. He leaned down and gave me a very proprietary kiss on the mouth, his fingers skimming my back like a flock of butterflies. Great. Now I had butterflies inside and out.
“You look amazing.”
“Thanks. As you can see, if I want this lot to remember seeing us together, I had to go above and beyond.”
“Piper, I can assure you that, for as long as I live, I will never forget the moment you walked into this bar in that dress.” There was that fluttering again. “I ordered you a martini, I hope that’s okay.”
“Perfect.” I smiled. “One day you’ll make some woman a lovely husband.”
“Sit by me.” he said. It wasn’t a suggestion so much as a directive so I slid next to him into the booth. “Busy day?”
“Yep. It’s always busier at the end of the week. And then I got a call from my potential investors. They’re coming next week to check out my operation. I’m beside myself.”
“You’re going to do great,” he said. He was genuine, I could see that. “Have you got a good lawyer helping you?”
“I have one, but I don’t know how good he is.” That was the truth. He specialized in franchising and I could afford him. That was about all the criteria I needed.
“Do you want me to take a look at whatever they offer? I’d be happy to.”
“Aaron, I can’t afford you.” I spoke the truth.
“This is your future. You can’t afford not to use me. And I’m not going to charge you, silly. You’re my girlfriend.” He ran his hand down my arm.
Smart, kind, and sexy. My hormones were going crazy. This was not good. Not good at all. The butterflies took flight again so I did what anyone would do. I chugged my martini.
We moved on to dinner at a very elegant uptown restaurant called Cellini. I’d read about it, of course, because I was an avid reader of food columns, magazines, and blogs. I had always wanted to go there. They specialized in everything truffle. Of course, that was partly affectation, but truffles were delicious when done properly.
The hostess led us to a prime table and seemed to recognize Aaron. It occurred to me that I hadn’t yet googled Aaron or his family. I definitely needed to do that. Aaron nodded at a few other patrons and even shook someone’s hand.
“You’re quite famous around here, huh?”
“I prefer infamous.”
“For what?”
“You don’t know?”
“Not a clue.”
“Cherie didn’t tell you?”
My face clearly said not.
“My father’s in the clink for fraud and I put him there.”
“You put him there?”
“I realized he was running a Ponzi scheme and ripping people off, so I contacted the Feds. My father was always a self-centered bastard who didn’t really give a crap about me and who married my mother for her money. But when he started ripping off the little guy, I had to take a stand.”
“That must have been difficult.” That would be an understatement.
“Not really.” Yet he averted his eyes and it was clear it had been hard. “It was the right thing to do.”
“What about your mom?”
“She was…” He seemed to struggle for the right word.
“Humiliated?” Of course she was.
“Yeah, she understood my position and she respects it but…”
“Wow. And I thought my family was a model of dysfunction.”
“Well my parents were separated at the time, but then they’d lived separate lives for a long time, but yes it was still humiliating. She spends most of her time in Europe now. It’s easier.”
“Except for, this weekend. Lucky me.”
He grinned. “Lucky us.” Have gave my hand a squeeze across the table.
I turned my attention away to the menu. I wanted to be ready when the waiter came. It was truffle overload. Not that there were truffles in everything but most things at least had a hint of truffle oil or truffle salt.
Our waiter came over. “Hello. I’m Brendan and I’ll be your waiter this evening.” It was such an American thing to learn the waiter’s name. It didn’t happen in Australia and it always amused me every time I heard it.
I gave Brendan my order for a twice-baked truffle soufflé and chicken stuffed with pancetta, ricotta, and truffle. Aaron ordered his meal and a bottle of French red.
“Are you tired?” He covered my hand with his again. “You don’t look it, but you must be.”
“I’m kind of used to the routine because I’ve been doing it for a few years, but I usually don’t stay up too late except on Saturdays. If I did, I’d never be able to make it in in the morning.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll have you home, tucked up in bed, nice and early.”
There was a suggestive tone to his voice that had the butterflies dancing. I knew it was for affect, that this was part of the routine, but I still needed to remind myself every fifteen seconds or so, so that I didn’t get lost in the fantasy. “Have you had a busy week?”
“Big case finished up yesterday, at last...”
“But you didn’t go to court?”
“I’m not that kind of a lawyer. I do mergers and acquisitions and contracts. I’m more of a behind-the-scenes guy.”
Brendan brought our wine.
“Shall we have a toast?” Aaron asked. “To your continued success.”
“And yours.”
The evening was progressing like the sort of date you see in movies and fantasize about happening to you. Beautiful people all around you, amazing food, a hot dinner companion, and easy conversation. If we weren’t about to marry each other, I think I could have let myself fall for Aaron. And since we were well and truly into third date territory, it was no wonder there was some serious longing for something more.
That was, until he asked about my family.
“Well, that’s a mood killer,” I sighed. “Then again you can rely on the Adams family to ruin any occasion.”
“Do you have an Uncle Fester?” he quipped.
“Sadly, I have several less than savory uncles. Here’s the condensed version. I’m the youngest of four kids. I have three older brothers. My mum gave up on the whole idea of domestic bliss when I was in kindergarten. She was essentially supporting her husband and kids as a nurse at night and doing everything around the house all day. I guess when a better offer came along, she took it. She ran off to Perth with a doctor. A doctor who didn’t want kids.”
“Ouch.”
“Exactly. So that left me with my dead-beat dad and three older brothers. We lived in a small town north of Sydney along the Pacific Highway called Northaver. The Pacific Highway is the main road up the country’s east coast. You can picture our home with a chain metal fence and cars in various state of di
srepair in the front yard.”
“It sounds lovely.” He sipped his wine.
“It was a treat. All my brothers were expelled from school and are now a mix of petty criminals and dole bludgers, like my dad.”
“What’s a dole bludger?”
I grinned and shook my head. “Sorry, sometimes I forget you don’t speak Australian. They don’t work and live on welfare payments. I’m proud of my heritage--not.” I took a swig of wine. “What the town of Northaver does have is a great bakery that people stop at on their road trips. The lady who owned it used to let me sit in her kitchen and chat whenever I wanted. Clearly, she felt sorry for me. The whole town felt sorry for me. I was washing dishes by ten and learned an awful lot by osmosis. So much so that when I left school and became an apprentice baker. I finished my apprenticeship there and got out of that town as fast as I could.”
“Do you go back much?”
“Heck no. I send my dad some money every now and then. I’m sure he thinks, incorrectly, that when I take my business to the next level there will be something in it for him. He’s dreaming.”
“And your mother?”
“We’re not in touch.” I didn’t tell him I hadn’t heard from here since I was ten. I didn’t like to even think about that, let alone discuss it.
Luckily, our starters arrived and the conversation ended. We ate in silence. I didn’t know what he was thinking. Maybe he wouldn’t want to fake marry me now that he knew I wasn’t exactly upper-crust. Then again, his own father was no saint. All I could focus on was my soufflé which was light and airy and amazing.
I looked up and saw him watching me intently.
“Good, huh?”
I took a forkful and offered it to him. One hand under the food so as not to spill it down his front. He took my hand to guide it and that warm feeling was back.
“Delicious,” he agreed.
I was aware that other eyes were on us, no doubt people he knew, but I didn’t care. We were in our little date bubble and I for one didn’t want to burst it.
“So that was a great night,” he said as we walked the few blocks back to his place. “Good food, good company, nice view.”
He was flirting and had been for the last half of the meal. I understood it was part of our game but when we were alone it seemed unnecessary.
“It was lovely.”
“And now I get to take you home.”
He was holding my hand and it felt warm and safe. Again I reminded myself this wasn’t real—even if he did have my overnight bag in his other hand.
What was real was that all the lights in his house appeared to be on when we rounded the corner onto his street.
“Hang on. Stay here.” He took the stairs two at a time. His long lean legs reminded me of a gazelle. He didn’t have time to put a key in the door when it was flung open and an austere looking woman stood backlit by all the lights. She was an older version of Ophelia. Oh, boy. I was about to meet my future mother-in-law.
The date bubble had well and truly burst.
Any Way You Slice It Page 5