He nodded, throat working.
“How is your… life?” Smooth, that. And all encompassing.
“It’s good,” he said quickly. “Um. So good. Father is talking of retirement soon, and I’ll be taking over operations of the hotels.”
“That sounds exciting. Especially for one so young.” I picked up a glass of water to sip.
He flushed. “I hope so. It’s a lot of responsibility.” And then it seemed like he wanted to take that back. “But not so much that I won’t be able to see you! If we are to marry, then I will make as much time for you as you require.”
I sprayed water onto the table and coughed. “That’s… good. That’s… if we marry. Whoa. Like. What?”
“Sorry!” Todd said like he’d offended me. “Sorry. I didn’t mean if. I meant when.”
I knocked over the glass of water onto the table. It spilled all over Todd.
“Oh shit,” I said. “I’m so sorry. I’m not usually this awkward.” Well, that was a lie. This was about par for the course. I scooted over in the booth and took a cloth napkin and started dabbing the water off of Todd. It took a minute before I realized I was rubbing his crotch. I stared in horror.
“Oh gods,” Todd moaned.
“Sam,” Ryan snapped. “What the hell?”
I looked up at him with wide eyes. “I’m not giving him a hand job!” I shouted. “I’m just trying to get him dry!”
The restaurant went silent as everyone looked over at us.
“I said that really loudly, didn’t I?”
“Sam?” Todd squeaked. “Could you… move? Your hand?”
I looked back down, and my hand was still in his lap. “Sorry,” I said, patting his crotch a couple of times. “My bad.”
Todd looked like he was about to faint.
Ryan didn’t bother turning back around or moving away from the table.
“No more sneak hand jobs,” I told him. “I promise. My virtue is still intact.”
“I highly doubt that,” he said.
“So much sass,” I said. “How come no one knows you’re so sassy?”
“It doesn’t often come up in conversation,” he deadpanned.
A waiter came over, looking somewhat apprehensive. “Is everything okay, Duke Goldwaithe?”
“Duke Todd Goldwaithe,” I said, trying it out. “Mrs. Sam Goldwaithe.”
Everyone stared at me.
I waved my hand at them. “It’s a thing Gary and I do.” Mrs. Sam Foxheart sounded amazing, but I didn’t think now was the right time to say that out loud. Or ever.
They still stared.
“Gary? My best friend? The hornless gay unicorn? The fiercest diva in existence? Nothing? Ryan, you know who I’m talking about. After all, you were practically fondling him at the celebration.”
He looked like it hurt him to acknowledge that yes, he did in fact know the fiercest diva in existence. “There was no fondling,” he said roughly.
“There was fondling,” I told the waiter. He looked terrified. “And demands of peeled frozen grapes. It was, like… this whole thing. You aren’t laughing. Maybe you had to be there.”