The Arrangement

by Hilary Hamblin

  “What, no fries?” Ben asked with mock disbelief as his smile widened into a full-fledged grin.

  Evie’s body relaxed as the playful Ben she knew and loved revealed himself. “You know I don’t eat grease!” She giggled.

  “I’m sure they will make the substitute. Just means more fries for me!”

  “I don’t know how you can eat that stuff. Makes me sick just to think about it. Yuck!” She twisted her mouth in a sign of disgust.

  “Hey, I eat at that pretentious ooh la la French place you like, and I don’t complain about it,” Ben threw back. Is that a hint of anger in his words? She wondered. “We’re on my turf now. At least give the place a chance.”

  Evie suppressed the urge to roll her eyes.

  At that moment the server returned to take their order.

  “Could I substitute a salad for the French fries?” Evie asked with a sugary voice as she finished ordering the grilled chicken.

  The server whose nametag read Shelia wrinkled her brow. “So you don’t want fries?” Dark roots showed beneath the woman’s brassy hair. The permed waves were held away from her face with hair clips and a pencil balanced carefully on her ear.

  “No, I would rather have the salad.”

  “That’ll cost you a dollar and eighteen cents extra,” she informed Evie as she pulled the pencil from behind her ear and held it over her order pad, waiting for Evie’s final decision before she made the notation.

  Evie pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. “That’s fine,” she agreed and nodded to affirm it.

  Shelia glanced at Ben as though his permission was needed as well. He nodded slightly, and she scribbled something on her pad. “What kind of dressing do you want? We got thousand island, ranch, French, Eyetalien…”

  “None, please. Just bring a couple of lemons.” What’s the point of passing on fries if I cover my salad with thick, gooey dressing? Evie wondered as she attempted not to let her impatience with this un-health-conscious waitress show through her words.

  The server stared at Evie for a minute, made a notation on her pad, and walked away without a word.

  “What was that about?” Evie asked, arms crossed over her chest.

  “What?”

  “Is my word not good enough?” she spouted. “She thinks we can’t afford another dollar tacked on to the meal, or maybe it was the lemon juice instead of that horrid fat-filled dressing they serve?”

  “Evie, you don’t have to be so snobby, you know,” he chided. “What’s gotten into you?”

  She faced Ben and blinked hard. “What are you wearing?”

  “What?” Ben’s brows lifted.

  Evie stared, speechless. Ben’s wrinkled short-sleeved shirt was unbuttoned to show a gray T-shirt underneath. He tucked neither shirt into his jeans, which prevented her from seeing if he wore a belt. She couldn’t remember the last time he wore jeans on a date. He had always worn khakis, and when he went very casual, he added a neatly pressed pullover.

  “What…are…you…wearing?” She emphasized each word as though it were its own sentence.

  Ben gave an exasperated grunt and leaned closer. “If I had worn what I normally wear, my roommates would have known something was going on. I told them I was going to do laundry. Besides, I knew my clothes would smell like grease when I left, and I didn’t want my good clothes to smell like that. By the way, I hope you brought something else to wear back to the house. You don’t want the sorority girls to think you’ve been slumming, do you?”

  Why not? It’s the truth! Unable to deal with that idea, she tried to refocus the conversation by turning the spotlight back to Ben. “Never mind. It feels like forever since we’ve really been able to talk. How are your classes? What about the new apartment? Did you get everything settled?”

  The server reappeared with their order before he finished talking. Evie swallowed the lump in her throat as grease ran across her plate from unwanted French fries to a sweetly marinated piece of chicken. She had to give the server credit. She may have not understood what a trade meant, but she did bring the salad with extra lemons.

  “So have you talked with Eli Whatly yet?” Ben asked snidely right before he shoveled a forkful of chicken-fried steak into his mouth.

  Evie’s hand jerked, and the lemon she was squeezing over her salad squirted across the table to Ben’s plate. She caught her breath until she realized he didn’t notice her startled reaction. “Wheatly, Ben. His name is Wheatly.”

  “I know, but I like Whatly better.” He grinned playfully.

  “Yes. In fact, I had coffee with him this afternoon.” She had not called Ben to tell him about her coffee “date” before she went. She’d decided she would wait and let him bring up the subject. After all, if he had changed his mind about her pretending to date someone else, she didn’t want to upset him with the idea she was already seeing someone else.

  “Reeeaaally.” Ben drew out the word as though he needed the extra time to think. “That was fast.”

  “You told me to go ahead. We needed to make this look real,” Evie pleaded with him, hoping he would not connect her lateness to their date with her meeting with Eli.

  “Yeah, but I thought you would wait a week or two. At least look like you were grieving our relationship. I mean, we have been dating a while.” Ben’s eyes focused on his plate as his fork moved rapidly from the fried okra and meat to his mouth.

  “The time seemed right.” She shrugged.

  “What does that mean? We break up, and the time is right to go out with someone else right away?” Ben paused in his eating binge.

  “It’s not like that.” She used her fork to move the chicken around on her plate. The grease from the fries made the chicken almost inedible. When Ben continued to stare at her, she struggled with how much to reveal. “He had business in town and invited me to coffee. You and I agreed he’s the right distraction, and I was afraid if I turned him down, he wouldn’t call again.”

  Ben shook his head. He sat back in his chair and half snorted, half laughed. “You know he knows about your parents’ plan, right? Don’t you think it was convenient that he was in town so quickly after the weekend?”

  Evie’s face heated with embarrassment. Dipping her head, she focused on the uneaten chicken in front of her. She had given very little thought to the timing of Eli’s visit until now. She had not considered he was merely playing the pawn in her parents’ game. The thought of telling Ben she had agreed to an actual date with Eli almost sent her searching for the ladies’ room.

  Only one way out now. Looking up, she spoke in a wavering voice. “I’m sorry, Ben. I just thought it would fit into the plan. Since the whole ‘dating’ is fake, I thought it wouldn’t matter. But I should have considered your feelings.”

  She watched his reaction from the corner of her eye. The softness she loved returned to his face.

  He touched her hand. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have overreacted. And now that you’ve been out with him once, you don’t have to see him again for a while, right?”

  “Right.” She didn’t lie. She did not have to see Eli again very soon, but she would. She had accepted Eli’s dinner invitation, and she would not back out of it. In fact, as hungry as she was after not eating the greasy fare in front of her, she would have gladly gone with Eli to eat that very moment.

  Ben returned to shoving food into his mouth and Evie to pushing her chicken around her plate, trying to figure out where she could pick up something real to eat on the way back to the sorority house.

  She tried not to compare Ben and Eli. They were from two different worlds. Besides, she loved Ben. He was funny, good-looking, and had introduced her to a whole new way of life. Eli had had everything handed to him. Ben worked hard to earn everything he had.

  Evie shook her head in an effort to erase the comparison chart and glanced back at Ben. He shoveled the last forkful of food into his mouth and motioned for the check.


  “I wish it didn’t have to be this way,” Evie mumbled.

  Ben placed his hand over hers and used his thumb to caress her fingers. “I know, sweetheart. But it won’t last for long. Your parents will see I’m what’s best for you and change their minds.”

  When Ben smiled at her, her heart melted and all thoughts of Eli floated away. Ben was the man she loved, because he loved her. He was willing to meet secretly and listen to her talk about her date with another man just so they could eventually be together forever.

  “You promise?” she whispered as the familiar fear of her parents’ determination to ruin her life filled her again.

  “Promise.”

  5

  )

  E

  li pushed his feet beneath the edge of the bench where he sat waiting for Evie in front of the restaurant. He tightened his calf muscles in an effort to stop his heel from tapping. He still had ten minutes until he expected her to be there. He chuckled. He made plans and kept them, just like tonight. If he said he would do something—like help paint the church nursery last weekend or serve on a committee to raise funds for a new community playground—people knew he would be there and follow through. So why did he have such a hard time making plans for his future?

  Tomorrow or next week he could handle. Some events he even scheduled months in advance. But why could he not apply those same planning skills to his life? Why was everything such a mixed-up jumble of meetings and volunteer work that benefited someone, but did little to tie his life together? Eli watched groups of college students mill through downtown. Tonight was not the time to contemplate his life plan. He would have plenty of time for that after his date with Evie, when he would likely get little sleep analyzing every aspect of the evening over and over again.

  An involuntary smile spread across his face when he saw her slender frame sliding between people on the sidewalk to approach him. All the thoughts of his future disappeared as he admired the details of this woman. A printed aqua scarf tied around her delicate neck brought out the tiniest blue stripe in a caramel-colored cotton shirt with cap sleeves. Pressed white pants made her slender legs appear longer right down to the toe of her strappy brown sandals. He would never forget the way she looked when she walked up to him, smiling as though he was the man she had been waiting to see all day.

  Eli stood and walked to meet her on the patio outside the downtown French restaurant. “You look amazing,” he murmured before he realized the words had escaped his lips.

  A soft blush beautifully tinged her cheeks. “Why, thank you, Eli. You look pretty good too. I see you decided against a suit tonight.”

  “Suits are for work. Tonight is for fun.” He forced a nervous chuckle back into his lungs where it burned with a desire to embarrass him. He might feel like a teenage girl, but he refused to let anyone else know. After all, he was a serious lawyer and an adult. He had to at least act the part of an adult tonight.

  Before he had a chance to speak again, the hostess called their names over a loudspeaker. He motioned for her to lead the way and followed her into the restaurant.

  “So, did you tell my dad I finally agreed to go out with you?” Evie asked the moment the hostess appeared.

  Her question knocked the breath from him. “Why would I?” His response sounded weak, but he was stumped. “I figured if you wanted your parents to know, you would have told them, and I probably would have picked you up at their house.”

  A slight blush crept onto Evie’s cheeks for the second time. Eli’s confidence returned. “Did you tell your sorority friends you had a date with your parents’ lawyer?” he asked, determined to play her game as well as she did.

  “Why? Does it bother you to meet me somewhere instead of picking me up?” she teased.

  “Maybe.” A comfortable silence fell between them as they sat for a long moment just smiling at each other.

  That’s a smile I wouldn’t mind seeing on the other side of the table every morning, Eli thought involuntarily. Fear that Evie could read his mind forced heat to his own cheeks, so he swiftly reached for a menu and pretended to study his dinner options. Not able to resist the urge, he peeked over the edge of his menu and relished his secret crush. “So what do you usually order?”

  “The pastas are really good. Tomato Basil Pasta and the Mediterranean Pasta are my favorites,” she offered without looking up from her menu.

  Eli studied the descriptions. “The Mediterranean does sound good.”

  Her eyes met his. “That’s exactly what I was thinking. I haven’t been here in so long, and I’ve been dying for that pasta.”

  “So we agree on pasta. That’s a pretty good start for the evening.” The fluttering in Eli’s stomach began to feel less like angry dragonflies and more like gentle butterflies.

  Their server interrupted long enough for him to think about their next topic of conversation. He reminded himself to ask about her and avoid the topic of his work at all costs. She’d tuned out the last time he’d talked about his work projects. He caught her eye as the server disappeared again to place their orders and bring their drinks.

  “What classes are you taking this semester?” he asked.

  “Do you like football?” Evie asked at the same time. They froze for a moment before nervous giggles escaped between them.

  “You first,” Eli insisted.

  “Okay. I’m taking a lot of electives…journalism and public relations classes mostly,” she explained.

  Eli ignored her eyes darting around the restaurant and resisted the urge to follow her gaze. “Interesting. Why did you choose journalism classes? Don’t the media and politicians usually oppose each other?”

  “Exactly,” she said with a confident nod. “If I’m going to keep a politician from saying something he should not say, I’ve got to know what the journalists and media want. I’m amazed how many people simply do not think before they speak. I never realized how journalists use dead air as a trick to get people to talk. Nobody likes to listen to silence, so a skilled journalist knows he or she can just wait a minute after someone has finished answering a question and most will keep talking. That’s when they get into trouble.” Evie bit her lower lip. “I’m sorry, I’m boring you.”

  “Nothing about the subject bores me. I’ve watched the pros and been amazed many times how a journalist can get a politician to say the craziest things. Now I know the power of silence has injured many a man.” Her passion for the subject revived a passion for politics inside himself.

  “Okay, so now it’s your turn. Do you like football?”

  “Don’t tell me we’re going to discuss sports. I do like football but have met very few women who share my passion.”

  Evie sighed. “Okay, so I don’t like football, or even understand it. But the homecoming game is coming up, and I’ll be a social outcast if I don’t go.”

  “Really.” Eli drew out the word so it sounded more like a question than a statement. He waited, remembering their brief discussion about the power of silence, and offered Evie the opportunity to say, or ask, whatever she wanted.

  She rushed out the rest of her words. “I really need a date…and Mom and Dad will be happy to see you there.”

  “Are you asking me to the homecoming game?” Eli teased.

  Evie looked down at the white tablecloth and back up again. “Yes, OK, I’m asking you for a date.”

  “Well, Evie, I would be honored to take you to the homecoming game. I haven’t been to a homecoming game since, well, I graduated from college. I always enjoy watching my favorite teams and a few local teams on television, but I rarely have had time to actually go to a game. What time should I pick you up?”

  “The game starts at two, and we’ll have to tailgate with my parents so probably around eleven.”

  “So does that mean you told your parents you agreed to go out with me?” he asked hesitantly. If she still feared telling her parents, he would understand, but they would find out qu
ickly when he appeared at their tailgating tents on her arm.

  Evie glanced around the restaurant as she released a reluctant sigh. “No. They already won when Ben…and I…broke up.”

  Just then the server arrived with two large bowls of pasta. She set one in front of each of them, refilled their glasses, then left. Eli watched Evie as she scouted the various tables in the restaurant again and followed her gaze to a table on the far right-hand side of the restaurant. He turned back to look at her. A few tears brimmed at the edge of her long eyelashes. She blinked, then glanced at Eli.

  “Evie?” he asked, uncertain about the meaning of her tears. At the table where her gaze fell just before the tears appeared sat a man with short blond hair and a flirtatious smile focused on a woman with long dark hair sitting beside him. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” she replied, her voice hoarse, “I’m fine.” She then avoided his gaze and began to pick at the pasta in front of her.

  As her hands trembled, Eli wished for the words to calm her spirit. Lord, this break-up really hurt her. I only met her a short while ago, but already I care a lot about her. Please help me find a way to heal her hurt and see beyond this ex-boyfriend, he prayed as he pretended to study his food.

  “I’m sorry, Eli,” Evie whispered. He looked up at her to see a stray tear streaming down her face. “Would you excuse me for a moment?”

  “Sure.” He knew he failed to hide his surprise. One moment she blinked back the sorrow, and the next it overwhelmed her. He’d witnessed her temper at their first meeting, but he had not seen this tender, broken side of her until now. The fire and sass of her anger made him smile, but the tears of a broken relationship seared into his heart. He longed to wrap her in his arms and make promises to her, but he doubted his ability to fulfill any promises of commitment or loyalty right now.

  This dinner only represented their second date. Their future, if it extended beyond the table in the restaurant, rested with God. Eli scanned the restaurant, desperately searching for another topic of conversation when his eyes settled on the table where Evie’s eyes had focused. The dark-haired woman sat alone now.