A moment later they said good-night to Diana, whose face hid a smirk, and left the office. Ten minutes later, they sat at a small table in a local bar where the waitress addressed Adam by name.
“Come here often?” Teddy teased when the woman left to get their drinks.
He smiled and appeared uncomfortable.
“You don’t have to answer that,” she said, teasing still in her voice. “This is a small town.”
“I’m sure there are places where you’re recognized,” he told her.
“Many of them,” she admitted. “My job requires it.”
“Mine, too,” he said. “Really,” he repeated at her skeptical look. “Depending on the market, my hours can be unpredictable. Often this is the only place to get food after midnight.”
“No snack bar at the company you own?”
“By midnight it’s empty and I prefer more than a diet of potato chips and chocolate.”
Teddy didn’t reply. He reminded her of chocolate, the kind that was dark and bittersweet, but with a good measure of milk. For a moment, she wanted to taste him, see if that body had the same feel and texture of melt-in-your-mouth chocolate. Teddy had once planned a chocolate wedding. Everything from the cake to the trays that held the multiple sugary concoctions had been made of chocolate: dark chocolate, milk chocolate, white chocolate. Some with nuts. Others with designs made of dried strawberries, raspberries or blueberries. She imagined Adam fully sculptured in a rich, milky flavor that would make her teeth ache.
“White wine,” the waitress said, setting a glass in front of Teddy and snapping her mental musings. She set a beer glass in front of Adam, poured the honey-colored liquid into the cooled glass and left them with a friendly smile.
Teddy sipped the dry wine.
“What’s it to be?” Adam brought up the subject she’d been dreading.
“You’re sure this will work?” Teddy wavered in her decision. She’d spoken to Diana, but thinking of her mother had set her pulse on edge.
“How can it fail?” Adam asked. “Going on a few harmless dates will play right into their plans.”
“And the girlfriends?” Teddy asked, intentionally using the plural. “Suppose we commit to this and the one woman you want above all others walks into your life? How are you going to explain me to her? Or the change in women to your mother?”
She’d seen the expression on his face change. There was a woman in his past. The proverbial one that got away.
“That’s not likely to happen,” he said.
“What about me? My one and only could show up unexpectedly.”
He tried to cover his surprise, but Teddy saw the eyebrow rise over his left eye before he forced it back in place.
“Is there a chance of that?” He leaned forward, cradling his beer in both hands, and spoke in a low voice.
“It could. I don’t live in a convent.”
He waited a moment as if he was weighing his options. He had no options. “I wouldn’t hold you to the terms. I’m sure your mom would be even more pleased to know her daughter had found the right man.”
Teddy understood the implication. He wasn’t the right man. This wasn’t going the way she expected it would. She felt as if she’d somehow hurt Adam, although she didn’t know how.
“In that case,” Teddy began, “knowing that a true romance with someone else can and would complicate things, we agree to end this pretense early should that happen.” She stared at him. “Agreed?”
“Agreed.” Adam raised his glass and clinked it with hers to seal the deal.
“So, how do we begin?” she asked.
“We’ve already begun.”
The kiss they’d shared came to Teddy’s mind. She didn’t know if he was into public displays of affection, but her brides and grooms had no problem letting the world know they’d found that special someone.
“We need to get to know each other, so if our parents quiz us we’ll have similar stories.”
“Similar? Not the same?”
He shook his head. “When my dad tells a story, my mom is always correcting his details.”
“Does that happen in reverse, too?”