Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 94546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
I pick at my napkin, wordlessly announcing that she doesn’t have to answer me if she doesn’t want, before asking, “What happened between you and Caleb last weekend?”
Her huff this time around is more in pain than disbelief. “Nothing. That’s the point.” She fakes a sob. “I’m really beginning to wonder if he truly does only see me as a friend.”
“Jess—”
“No, it’s fine. Truly. I’d rather face the truth than continue like we have the past few months.” She stops to consider her next set of words. “It hurts not knowing if you’re good enough.”
“You’re more than good enough. It’s just Caleb. He has…” Now it’s my turn to pause for thought. “Commitment issues. But I’ve never seen him with anyone like he is with you. There’s spark and connection. He’s just scared.”
“Of what, exactly?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. But if anyone can find out, Jess, it is you. You just can’t give up on him.”
I regret my plea when the waiter returns to our table to place a napkin with a cell phone number scrawled across it between Jess and me. Jess has plenty of suitors, so is it mean of me to want her to keep fighting for my cousin, who’s determined to keep her at arm’s length?
I assume the waiter is putting in a silent bid for Jess but am proven wrong when he mutters, “It’s from the gentleman across the room.” He coughs to clear the annoyance from his throat before gesturing his head to the man in question. He’s a mid to late twenties Seattleite decked out in a fancy suit. His hair is slicked back, and his jaw is rigid. He’s handsome but totally up himself. “He would like to pay for your meal.” He drifts his eyes to mine. “Both of your meals.”
When the waiter remains staring at me, I gabber under my breath, “Okay,” lost as to why he looks like he’s waiting for me to say something.
My confusion clears when he asks, “So, is there anything else you’d like to order?”
Jess’s eyes gleam with excitement, but their glint dulls when I shake my head.
“What about your cake?” Jess whispers only loud enough for the three of us to hear.
I shake my head again. If Jack suggested this restaurant because he wants me to sample the mousse cake, I don’t want it to be done with the generosity of another man. Besides, I can’t get angry about Jack wanting to spoil me then accept the generosity of a stranger. “And please tell the gentleman that we appreciate his offer, but we’re fine paying for our own lunch.”
“Okay.” The waiter looks as lost as I felt earlier.
After waiting a beat, he slips the napkin off the table and attempts to hightail it to the kitchen. I say attempt as he only gets two steps away when Jess stops him. “You can leave that.” After snatching the napkin out of his hand, she tucks it into her purse. “You never know when you might need a peacock in a suit.” After snapping her purse closed, she locks her eyes with mine. “Surely, he’d have to ruffle a few more feathers than the barflies I tried to rile Caleb with last time.”
I smile a mammoth grin. “Thatta girl!”
Twenty minutes later, Jess and I race for the exit. The club sandwich was enormous, and despite our best effort, half of it remains on our plates. Would I say it is worth its price tag? No. More because I hate wasting than anything else.
After scribbling down a generous tip to our waiter who softened a little, the longer he served us, I hand our bill wallet to a lady at the counter to ring up our sale. “Thank you for dining with us today. We hope you have a pleasant day.”
I return her farewell with a smile before lopping my arm around Jess’s elbow and guiding her to the closest exit. Our allotted time has run over, and I’m more than fretful of a tardy slip.
“Tivy,” the waiter shouts, halting my quick steps. When I spin around to face him, he wiggles a piece of paper in the air. “You forgot something.”
I check my pocket for my credit card, certain I slipped it in there after the waitress processed my payment. I realize it isn’t my receipt he’s waving when he snatches up two clear containers from the serving area and heads my way. My heart beats double time when I realize what he’s clasping. It is two large helpings of their famous chocolate mousse cake.
“We didn’t order dessert,” I stammer, somewhat embarrassed I’ll have to send them back if he requests payment. I was surprised the payment for our club sandwich went through without alerting that I’ve exceeded my limit.
Darris smiles a coy grin. “I know, but I was asked to make sure you left with these.”