“Did you just get out of a serious relationship, or…”
I shake my head. “No. I mean, I’ve dated, but no…I haven’t been in a serious relationship in a while.”
“That’s interesting. Huh.”
God, why does this have to be so hard? Why can’t coming up with things to say be as easy as coming up with excuses to leave? Honestly, I’ve got a ton of those.
Hamster care.
Needy mother.
Cat with cancer.
Grease fire in my apartment.
Really, the list of excuses seems endless.
“What about you? Why haven’t you settled down?”
He shrugs then, glancing over his shoulder briefly before coughing and looking back at me. “I just…wasn’t ready until now. I’ve been more focused on my career.”
My eyes widen with excitement. Finally, something we can talk about. “That’s great. I’m really career-centric too. What is it that you do?”
“I’m a gamer.”
“A gamer?”
“Yeah. You know, like on Twitch? I livestream and people watch.”
I nod, though I don’t know that I could do much else if I wanted. I was expecting something, I don’t know, a little less isolated.
His business is about keeping people in their houses watching their computers all day, and mine is about getting them out. To parties, to events, to all manner of social engagements. Fucking hell, I feel like I just consumed a bag of lemons.
Coincidentally, another viable excuse.
“What about you?”
I swallow hard to stave off a sigh. This is like hearing from a fish about how great the ocean is and then having to tell them you hate water. “I have an event planning business. Sophie Sage Events.” I wave my hand in front of my face. “We do all sorts of stuff all over the city. Private parties, corporate events, weddings. That sort of thing.”
He nods, and I have to wonder if he’s just about as put off by my career as I am by his. I mean, I’m not knocking it for everyone—I know these are the times. But “Professional Gamer” is definitely not on the list of qualities I’ve been envisioning for my husband since I could write in my diary, that’s for sure.
“That’s interesting,” he says again, trying his best to be polite.
I nod again before picking my menu up in front of my face. Man, this is going to be a long night if I can’t get some kind of grip on making this conversation flow.
“Excuse me,” a chillingly familiar voice says from the side of our table, making my eyes widen as I pull my menu down tentatively. I peek just enough above the top to get a glimpse, and I nearly faint as a smiling Jude, the Magic Dancer catches my eyes at that very moment and winks. My stomach immediately flips over on itself with memories and unbidden excitement, but it’s not long before it changes its tune. Attractive or not, seeing this guy here, right now, is not a good thing. At all.
Holy shit. What in the ever-loving hell is he doing here? my mind screams as the true panic starts to set in. This wasn’t on my list of excuses at all, so I don’t think I’m manifesting stuff.
I cough, choking slightly on the building saliva in my throat, and Jude reaches over to pat me on the back. Nathan’s eyes narrow at the gesture, and I’ll be damned if I can’t blame him.
If I could just get the awkward choking under control, maybe I’d be able to wade into the brink with…some sort of explanation.
Not that I know what that would be at all. I don’t think any version of this guy stripped so well I spontaneously orgasmed is going to help me here.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Jude continues, glancing between me and my date. “I don’t know either of you very well, but I couldn’t help but come over and offer my congratulations.”
Oh God. Noooo. No, no. This is even worse than I realized.
“Congratulations?” Nathan asks. “On what?”
Jude laughs, slapping my date on the back with a big old healthy dose of consequences he can’t even begin to comprehend. “On the wedding. I met your lovely bride here just the other night, and she told me she was getting ready to tie the knot. I feel honored to get the chance to meet the lucky guy.”
Nathan turns to me immediately, his neck contorting with a whole hell of a lot of what the fuck. “You’re married?”
“Nathan,” I hedge, trying to figure out how to explain this whole thing without making a scene. I’m not my sister like Jude thinks I am. Though, I was pretending to be her, to be fair. So, I am the woman Jude thinks I am, even though I’m not the woman who was getting married. Simple, right?
Nervous laughter spills from my lips suddenly, and fuck if that’s not, like, the exact opposite thing I needed to happen right now.