I tell the waitress I’ll have the same, uninterested in the food and more interested in Morgan. Noticeably, the waitress lingers long enough for me to glance up and see what she’s waiting for. After a moment’s awkwardness, she walks away.
Morgan take
s a sip of water from her glass, placing it down, and focusing her attention back on to me. Unlike every other time, she maintains eye contact, staring at me with curiosity.
“So everywhere you go, is this what happens? Women just wanting some Noah love?”
“No,” I tell her, leaning forward, resting my elbows on the edge of the table. “There’s this one woman. A pain in the ass really. She’s all against the Noah love. Probably heads home to her litter of cats and sticks pins into a voodoo Noah doll.”
She remains speechless, lifting the glass of water to her lips again, hiding a playful smile. “So tell me…” she begins. “You’re new to LA. Why here?”
This would be the perfect time to be honest about why I came here. But something warns me about being too forward at this very moment may not be such a good idea. And so, I hold back the information, keeping the topic to a bare minimum. “Let’s see. Things back home got complicated. My cousin lives out here. I just wanted a new start and luckily her husband owns a very well-known publishing house and needed someone to run their marketing department here in LA.”
She purses her lips, shaking her head. “Complicated? As in relationship complicated?”
Should I tell her now that I don’t do relationships? No point giving false hope. And if I don’t do relationships, what exactly am I trying to achieve here?
You want her in bed with you.
You want to boost your confidence because lately, you’ve been questioning everything in your life.
I switch to a darker tone, inviting her to drop the subject. “It involved a woman but no, not a relationship.”
She seems to pick up on my tone, dropping her eyes to the table following with a chagrined expression. I immediately regret not being honest, apologizing by resting my hand on top of hers to rebuild the connection between us.
Lifting her eyes to meet mine, she gently slides her hand back and forces a smile. “So, you’re staying with your cousin and her husband?” she asks, switching subjects.
“And three daughters. Hence... my early morning woes. Did you know that kids have the ability to invade your personal life in ways you can’t imagine?”
“Yes.” She follows with a chuckle. “It’s crazy how the littlest things you take for granted are somewhat misplaced when you have kids.”
“Have you spent much time around them?” I ask, cautiously.
“Yes, just close family,” she says plainly. “Scarlett can’t stand them. But don’t ever tell her I told you that.”
I nod my head, slowly, watching the way her eyes examine my face with pure intensity.
“I need my own place. Noah needs plenty of private time,” I hint.
“I can only imagine,” she says, eyes wide, her lips parting softly.
Those lips. I need to do something with them. The restaurant is busy, people seated all around us. Surely, stealing just one kiss wouldn’t be inappropriate?
The waitress returns with our food, distracting me if only for a moment.
We talk a little bit about work.
She tells me how she got into the business, and why she doesn’t allow her relationship with Scarlett to go public. “I’m not interested in being in the spotlight. That’s why I go by my middle name. The tabloids would be following me if they knew I was her sister.”
“And Bentley?”
“Just a random name I chose.” Taking a bite of her fish, she chews gently, swallowing then wiping her mouth daintily with the napkin. “How good is this fish?”
I agree, quick to remain on topic. “Why did Scarlett tell me you guys were sisters?”
“I don’t know. She’s quite fond of you…” she trails off.
“But I’m quite fond of you,” I tell her.