“Sam told me you didn’t want to cut your hair until after you were able to make enough money so your mom could retire. I guess you lost the nerve for that too.”
“Oh god, not you too. He’s been harping at me for a while now to lose the man bun.”
I can’t admit it, even to myself, but honestly, if he did lose it, I’d be pretty sad. He looks good with it.
“I’m surprised Sam gave his permission,” I say, seizing the chance to talk about something other than Hal or me.
With a smile, he grabs the chance to direct the conversation back to himself. How typical. “Sam knows I’m worthy of you.”
“Dear lord, I think I might throw up.”
Hal takes my sarcastic comment and completely ignores it. Instead, he says, “I got a cat.”
“You got a what?”
“Yeah, I said I was going to. She’s old. A senior.”
“Geez.” I place the basket of breadsticks back on the table as I don’t think I could force a single thing down past the unexpected lump in my throat. “You’re just adopting grannies all over the place, aren’t you?”
Hal nods, but then he’s distracted by a shadow to my right. I glance over to see our waitress bearing a huge tray filled with a meal that looks absolutely incredible. The artistry on the plates is visible from across the room, and I have to admit that it smells utterly divine. Was I really just worrying about not being able to force anything down? I’m going to eat every single bite and order something to take home—a meal for tomorrow. I know Hal won’t stop me. He’d have the whole restaurant delivered to my place if I asked him to.
Wait again. No, he wouldn’t.
Our server gives me a pointedly dry look until I grab my cloth napkin and spread it over my knees. I don’t think it’s what she wanted me to do, though, because the look hardly goes away. Hal reaches over and plucks the basket of breadsticks away from the spot in front of me so the waitress can serve the huge plate with the massive steak, baby potatoes, greens, and all that delicious-looking drizzle. Also, they’ve included the grainy mustard on the side, which I’m actually thrilled about now that I see it.
And I don’t even like grainy mustard.
I also don’t like Hal, but here I am, actually enjoying this forced, coerced, scam sham of a date that’s not a date.
The steak is exceptionally bloody. In fact, it barely looks cooked, but that’s the way I like it. I grew up in a household of boys. Kind of. My mom never cooked meat because she hated doing it, and she never once protested how my dad did it. So, long story short, we all ate our steaks just like the waitress says as she releases the plate.
“One steak for you. If you listen closely, you might hear it moo.”
CHAPTER 11
Hal
“Admit it. You had a good time.”
We’re standing in front of Stella’s apartment door. The building is square, and someone has attempted to put lipstick on a pig, if the expression exists, by painting the trims and installing new vinyl siding, but it still looks tired and sort of saggy. It makes me irrationally angry that Stella lives here, although I’m not sure why. It’s a lot nicer than some of the places I grew up in before my mom could afford a nicer apartment.
“I…” Stella shakes her head. “Nope. Well, I did, but it was because the food was amazing. That in itself was a nice surprise. The atmosphere was…uh…different, but yeah. It had nothing to do with you.”
“Oh, it didn’t? I picked the place, and I happened to pick it with you in mind. I thought you’d enjoy it. That it would be something different to inspire you.”
Stella angles to the side, but not quickly enough to hide the sudden emotion that flashes across her face. “Hmm. I suppose you’re going to say you had to bribe someone to get us in because there’s usually a long lineup of reservations.”
She’s not wrong, but I chuckle and shake my head. “I didn’t bribe anyone. They had a table open.” I bend the truth just to throw her off her game.
Her blue eyes sweep over me again, and she has the same wariness she’s always worn when I’m in her presence or she happens to enter a room I’m in. I know it’s well deserved. I was unmerciful in my teasing, though I really did do it all in brotherly fun. Truly. So I understand why she looks at me like I’m about to do something entirely distasteful, if not outright disastrous.
And because Stella’s always been incredibly smart, she puts her hands on her hips. “What was your real intention in taking me there tonight? You could have just signed the stupid papers and taken the bakery.”