keep my mouth shut. But that red flush on her cheeks, the widening of her eyes, the goose bumps she had tried to hide. Those little facts were really interesting.
“Are you okay?” I asked, leaning down close to her ear and giving her hand an involuntary squeeze as we took a turn to the right that led to the private area of the restaurant.
Jumping a little at my words, she looked at our clasped hands then up at me and nodded.
“It’s just dinner, Rose. Relax.”
Before she could even respond, we reached the round table where George and Fred were already sitting, but there was no sign of Wes Doyle, the potential client. As soon as they saw us, they stood up.
“There you are, Jack,” Fred said, pushing his chair back and walking around the table to get to us. “There’s a first time for everything. I never thought I’d see the day you were late anywhere.”
“We’re right on time,” I commented, and watched as Fred’s eyes dropped to Rose’s hand in mine. Instinctively, I gave her hand a little pull until she was plastered to my side. Rose gave me a quick surprised look then turned back to Fred.
Fred shifted his focus to her and his smile got bigger. At forty-five years old, Fred was the only one of the partners I could stand to spend more than an hour with. “Usually, he is the first one through the door whenever there is a meeting or work dinner,” he said to Rose. “And you must be the very unexpected but beautiful bride. Fred Witfield, pleased to meet you.” He extended his hand to Rose, and I had to let go of her.
I looked down at my hand. Still feeling the warmth and shape of her hand on my skin, I flexed my fingers.
“I’m pleased to meet you, too, Mr. Witfield. Jack has said lovely things about you,” Rose lied.
Fred laughed and finally let go of her hand. “Oh, I highly doubt that.”
I stood where I was, just a step behind her, and greeted George with a short nod while still listening in on their conversation.
“We’re really sorry for being late—it is completely on me,” Rose was saying.
“We weren’t late. We’re right on time,” I repeated as I pulled out her chair. “The client isn’t even here yet.”
Ignoring me, Fred pulled out the chair next to the one I had just grabbed, thinking she’d sit to my left, with me between her and Fred. Since she had her back to me, she couldn’t have seen that I was waiting for her, so she accepted his offer and took a step forward. Before I could comment, Fred was introducing her to George. When everyone was done with their introductions and niceties, we all sat down. I waited until Rose was settled and then took the seat I had originally pulled out for her. Fred sat down to her right, all his attention still on her. George, being the oldest partner, wasn’t as curious about my new marriage as some others in the firm.
“So, Rose, you have to tell us how you convinced Jack to marry you,” George started as soon as everyone was settled. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe every damn person on the firm was curious about my marriage.
A waiter leaned down between Fred and Rose and filled their glasses with water, causing the table to fall silent.
I couldn’t see her face, but I could imagine she was smiling and trying to come up with a lie. Done filling her glass, the waiter came to my left. I put my hand on the small of Rose’s back and spoke up before she could. Her spine straightened, but she didn’t move away from my impromptu touch. “Actually, it was the other way around, George. I was the one who had to convince her to marry me. Where is Wes Doyle?”
“Oh, I didn’t miss the big proposal story, did I?”
I pulled my hand back from Rose and turned my head to look at the owner of the unexpected voice: Samantha Dennis, the only female partner in the firm and someone who’d had no plans to attend this dinner.
“I didn’t know you’d be joining us, Samantha,” I said lightly.
“They only arrived a minute ago. You’re just in time,” Fred jumped in.
George’s phone started ringing and he excused himself from the table. “I’ll be right back.”
“You know how Wes Doyle is,” Samantha replied to me. “He always has more questions and wants everyone to cater