“The Bachelor?” Mr. Finance scoffs. “I don’t watch that kind of television. It rots your brain.”
I catch Lucy’s eye for a half second before she finds the breadcrumbs on her plate more fascinating than a painting at the Sistine Chapel. She hasn’t admitted to this asshole about her affinity for tabloids and trashy reality shows.
“So what do you watch? Bloomberg news? Or maybe you don’t watch TV at all?”
“What’s wrong with the news?” Mr. Finance states. “As a fund manager, I need to keep up on current events.”
Nailed it. I glance in Lucy’s direction, but she’s still trying to read the future in her breadcrumbs.
“The Bachelor is a study in people. Understanding what motivates people leads to better decisions in work and life,” I declare loftily although I’m not lying. I’ve definitely used some of the shit I’ve picked up through reality TV in picking a jury. Sometimes you can pin down exactly a person’s type based on a few revealing questions. “Right, Lucy?”
At the direct callout, Lucy abandons her plate and puts on a strained smile. “I’ve heard the shows are very entertaining.”
“She likes Chef’s Table on Netflix, too. We watch it together every Tuesday night. Usually we order pizza in.”
A muscle in Mr. Finance’s jaw jumps. He folds his napkin and places it by his plate. He scoots his chair back. “I’m going to wash up before dinner. Don’t wait for me if the food comes.”
He takes off, leaving Lucy and me alone. I lean back and push Mr. Finance’s chair away with my foot. “Now you’re pretending you don’t watch The Bachelor.”
“Gosh, you’re so hostile tonight,” Lucy declares. “You’re practically cousins. He’s a banker. You’re a lawyer. Those are both white collar jobs.”
“I can’t believe you’re comparing me to a bottom-feeding hedge fund manager. He moves around money. I actually work.”
“Okay. Okay.” She holds up her hands. “I don’t want to argue about this. I want you to leave.” She kicks at my chair. “I’m supposed to be on a date.”
“Well, I'm not leaving. I’m hungry, and Donna is bringing me my chicken piccata.” I cross my arms.
Lucy reaches over and shoves me with two hands. Taken by surprise, I nearly tumble to the floor. I right myself in the nick of time and manage to catch a glass of water before it tips over.
“Is this what happened the night Leif got kicked out? You pushed him and he lost his balance?”
“No. That was an accident, and you promised not to bring it up.”
“Donna reminded me.”
Lucy crinkles her face. “Are you telling me that they gossip about that night here? I’ll never be able to come back.”
“Why not? Nothing’s changed. They’ve been gossiping about it, and we still get good service and good food. Maybe they’re even extra nice to us because you had the bad date. And, honestly, in retrospect, why are you bringing dates here anyway? This is our place.” Honestly, why are you dating in the first place? is what I really want to ask.
Lucy shrugs. “I like the food here, so when the dates go bad at least I’m eating something I really like. It takes the sting out of the bad dates.”
“Then stop dating.” I butter some more bread for her.
“I don’t want to end up a spinster. I want to have babies and a family.” Her lips form a little pout, and I want to knock everything on the floor and eat away at her mouth until the pout is transformed into a smile.
“That’s why you should marry me.”
“Gosh. I wish you would stop saying that.”
“Can’t. Won’t.” I plan to keep saying it until she marries me which, in her mind, is never, so I guess I won’t ever stop asking.
Chapter Six
Lucy
I’m going to murder him. Why is he doing this to me? It’s already hard enough to try to push my crush on him to the side. I can’t believe he went as far as to bring up Leif. He must really be in a mood tonight to revisit that debacle.
Leif had been the last man I dated before my mom got sick. It was a disaster. It took me a few months to come back here after that, and I only did because my mom asked for their food, so I had to come pick it up. I never should have told Wyatt that story the first time we’d come here together. I’m not sure what made me bring it up to him that night. Maybe it was because I had been nervous about showing my face inside this place again.
“You’re a lawyer. I should have guessed.” Mark’s voice breaks me from my thoughts. I inwardly groan, knowing this is going to get worse between the two of them. I decide that I should eat my food faster. It’s the only thing to do if I want to get the heck out of here.