21
BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR
Brooke
“Can I interest you in wine?”
It’s a simple enough question from the server at Max’s, but I draw a blank.
I glance at Drew, then at the goateed server, then back at Drew. Am I supposed to order liquor? Is that acceptable for a fake date? A fake real date? Should I order lemonade instead?
I’m…flummoxed
Drew lifts a brow. “You like chardonnay usually, right, honey?”
He must think I’ve spaced out.
But if I order wine, will that make me sound like a lush in the sports press? Is the media going to say I have a drinking problem?
“I’ll have a Perrier,” I choke out.
“And for you, sir?” the man asks Drew.
“Same,” he says with a smile, so natural when I’m so not.
When the guy leaves, Drew shoots me a curious look. “You okay, Brooke?”
“I’m great,” I chirp.
But do I look annoyed? Wait. Do I look appropriate? I’m wearing a red blouse and jeans. Is that proper fake dating attire? Should I have worn a boho dress? A cute little hat? A slouchy top?
Where is the handbook for this, Stephen?
“How was your day?” I ask Drew, pasting on a smile. Like we always have cheery, PR-y, media-friendly conversations. Not like we play with innuendos, talk dirty, share stories, or chat about hopes and dreams and orgasms.
“It was good. Worked out, ran with Patrick, practiced. I told Patrick about us,” he says, his shoulders relaxed, his eyes bright.
He’s happy and relieved.
But I can’t shake the sense someone is watching. Probably because someone, somewhere,is.
“You did?” I glance around. Someone is probably listening too.
What if some fan finds out how long our fling has been going on? A reporter? A blogger? Will we besooo cutethen?
“How did it go?” I ask.
Drew takes a few seconds before he answers, like he’s weighing something—or maybe editing himself? I can’t quite tell. Then he smiles and says, “He got a kick out of learning you’re my taco-spankings woman.”
“Shhh,” I hiss.
Shoot. Did I just sound like a shrew? Disciplining my boyfriend? Wait. Is he my boyfriend?
My stomach churns.
“My bad,” Drew says, chastened.
My heart slams against my chest. I feel so foolish. “It’s fine.”