like?”
“I’ll have a sweet tea. No lemon, please,” she says.
“I’ll have the same.” I look at Delia briefly but swing my attention back to Haley when there’s a little too much to read in Delia’s gaze. “Do you want an appetizer?”
Haley considers this. “I don’t think so. Not tonight. I’m still a little bothered by your filet-and-crab order.”
“You are not.”
“I am too,” she insists. “And on another note, surf and turf has never made sense to me.”
“You don’t even know what’s good.”
She grins. “You should watch your word choice. I’m at dinner with you.”
Delia, who I’ve forgotten is even standing there, laughs. “You two are adorable.”
I look over at Haley. Her face is covered by the menu, and I wonder if it’s to keep me from seeing her reaction to Delia’s assumption—that we’re a couple.
The word usually makes me want to vomit. It’s a sign things are crossing the line to commitment, to responsibility, and those are two words I don’t love. But thinking of it attached to Haley feels different. It’s like we are just together, two people having dinner and enjoying ourselves. It’s not as suffocating, and I might even like it if I thought about it long enough.
Which I won’t.
“Apparently no appetizer and no surf and turf,” I say. “My adorable dining partner is a little pickier than she let on.”
“Got it.” Delia stuffs her notepad in her apron. “I’ll be back momentarily with your drinks. Try not to kill each other while I’m gone.”
“I’ll try,” Haley says. “It’s hard.”
Yes, it is. I adjust in my seat as discreetly as I can, because it seems everything about this firecracker across from me turns me on. Shit.
Delia disappears into the dining area as I turn my attention back to the lady in front of me.
“Okay,” she says. “Being serious. You picked a nice place. Thank you. But you could’ve taken me to Mucker’s, and it would’ve been fine.”
“I’ll take that as a point in my favor.”
She narrows her eyes, her lashes dark and thick. “You don’t really mind dining alone, do you?”
“Actually, I do. For real,” I say when she narrows her eyes even more. “I’m fine to eat alone at home or in my office. But I hate going into public and having a meal by myself.”
“Why? Are you self-conscious?”
“Not really,” I say. “I just . . . Fine. Maybe I am.”
“You are not.”
“Yes, I am,” I insist. My foot taps against the floor as I decide whether to explain myself. I don’t have to. It won’t matter if I don’t. But for some reason, I want her to understand. Maybe because I think she might care. “I had this thing happen in elementary school where all the moms came for this Mother’s Day program. We made them hats with paper plates and buttons, and we had to memorize poems. They brought tea and cookies, and I was so excited to show off my hat and poem to my mom.”
I force a swallow as my chest tightens like it did the day she didn’t come to the program. The feeling of loneliness that swamped me while I hid in the coat closet at school, humiliated that my mom was the only one who didn’t come, envelops me. Even Charlie’s mom came that day, and she missed everything. I was only eight years old. I hate that I still think about this nearly twenty years later. Get your head back on tonight, Kelly.
I clear my throat. “Then, you know, she didn’t show up.”
“Hey,” Haley says, reaching for my hand. “I’m sorry. That was really inconsiderate of me.”
“You didn’t know.”
“Yeah, but you tried to tell me and now I feel mean and I hate feeling mean.”
“Haley,” I deadpan, “you couldn’t be mean if you tried.”
“Oh, you don’t know me very well,” she promises. “I can be meaner than anyone you’ve ever met.”
“Doubtful.”
Delia appears out of thin air and sets our drinks in between us. She takes our orders, burgers for both, before disappearing again.
I fiddle with the saltshaker while Haley checks her phone. Mine has gone off a handful of times in my pocket, but I’ve ignored it.
As I watch her fingers fly on the keyboard, I wonder who she’s chatting with and what she’s saying. And in the same breath, I acknowledge it’s none of my business. For both of our own goods.
“Did you bring your résumé?” I ask, clearing my throat. “We could take a look at it before the food comes.”
Her fingers hover over the screen