Don purses his lips together, having spotted his youngest son heading towards the tables. “There he is. And…” A heavy sigh. “That would be his problem.”
Cheryl swats him on the shoulder. “Don’t you dare say anything about it when that young woman can hear you!”
“I won’t, I won’t,” promises Don.
I twist around in my seat to look. Charlie is heading towards us, with a pretty little brunette at his side. Her sun-tanned skin is glowing and both of her wrists are covered in bracelets made from glassy, brightly colored beads. She’s wearing a matching necklace, with rows and rows of beads, perhaps five or six on top of each other. There’s something classy about the way that she holds herself, though, and her smoky eye shadow ups the look to a completely different level.
“Morning,” says Charlie, sliding into one of the empty seats. “Everyone, this is Zoey.”
She looks a little abashed to be the center of attention, but Don is true to his words and makes no disapproving comments in her presence. That doesn’t change the fact that there’s a clear amount of tension in the air—something about Zoey’s presence that has totally changed the course of the morning.
I feel bad for her. I wonder if a lot of Charlie’s dates get treated this way. Not badly, exactly, but with a clear amount of disapproval at their company. Honestly, I wonder if part of why Charlie does it is just to prove a point.
To prove that he can keep doing things this way, whether his parents approve of it or not. A desperate action to keep control of something in his own life. Give it another five years, and I think that Heather might be willing to do the same thing.
It’s just another reminder as to why Grant and I started this fake relationship to begin with. I think that Zoey and I are both equally relieved when it’s time for everyone to get up. Cheryl excuses herself with ‘plans in the city’ and makes no effort to invite either of us.
She flashes me this apologetic look before she leaves, which makes it sadly clear that the only reason I’m not going with her is because she doesn’t want to bring Zoey along too. Don and his sons leave at the same time, heading off for their meeting. It’s being held much earlier in the day than usual, no doubt as a result of Cheryl’s strong-arming him.
And then it’s just the two of us. I flash Zoey a smile, not sure what to expect out of her. She gestures over her shoulder, towards the door that leads to the bar. “How do you feel about starting the day with a mimosa?”
I think about how I slept with Grant the night before, how it only made me like him more, and about how complicated my life has suddenly gotten. “Surprisingly good about it.”
She leads the way into the bar. There aren’t too many people around at this hour—just a little past ten—but I don’t feel bad about going over and taking a seat at the bar counter. I think it’s because Zoey is clearly so at ease with the situation. Her posture is relaxed but also confident.
“I’m clearly not going to be winning any awards with them,” jokes Zoey.
I tell her, “Try not to take it personally. They’re a tough crowd to win over.” A pause. “So, how long have you and Charlie—been together?”
Zoey laughs. “Charlie and I just met at the bar last night. I don’t know if it’s a one-night kind of fling, or if I should be expecting a call later tonight. But he did ask me to join him for breakfast this morning.”
My cheeks color. There’s nothing wrong with one-night stands, but I’ve never been interested in them myself.
She gestures down at the ring on my hand. “You’re clearly going to be around for a while though, huh?”
“Grant just proposed to me yesterday,” I tell her, a little bit of pride in the words. The fact that it’s a fake proposal suddenly feels jarring. What would it have been like if Grant had really meant those things? That I was his best friend, that he wanted me at his side forever?
“Congratulations,” says Zoey, earnestly. “If that’s how this whole trip is going, I think that I’ll settle for just being a one-night stand. I’m not looking to get hitched any time soon.”
“I don’t think that Charlie is either,” I tell her, aiming for reassurance.
She lets out a laugh. “I’ll be honest, that might be a good thing. It would be almost a crime to take someone like that off the market.” The mimosas are brought out. Zoey leans forward and says, “Between you and me, he’s the best lay I’ve had in ages.” A pause, and then a devilish grin splits across her face. “Is his brother good, too?”
My cheeks burn red. I can feel the heat of the blush run down the side of my neck. I take a long sip of my drink to try and bide my time while I think on how to answer that.
Zoey takes it as an answer all of its own and laughs. “So he is! Does he pull hair, too? I didn’t know that was something that got my gears grinding but—” She whistles. “Damn. I’d answer him, if he called again tonight. Even if it means having to deal with the absolute worst breakfast I have ever had.”
My face feels like it’s on fire. “I, uh I don’t know.” I don’t know why I decide to be so honest, either. Maybe it’s just been too long since I could be real with someone about this. I’m not very close with my friends anymore since they all moved out of town, and my sister—the person I can talk to about anything—can’t learn any of this. “Last night was, you know. The first time that we’ve done anything together.”
“Oh my God, you agreed to marry someone you’d never slept with?” Zoey says. “What if he was boring?”
“I’m more concerned that I’m going to be the boring one,” I tell Zoey, honestly. “I don’t have… A lot of experience with that sort of thing.”
It’s just a little white lie. She doesn’t need to know that my experience consists of my own hand, a small lipstick-shaped vibrator back home, and the night that Grant and I just shared together.
Zoey reaches over and gives me a pat on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about that. With your face, I don’t think any guy could resist you.”
“That’s sweet but—”