12
“So, you’re happy to go for us again?” Indina, my manager, looked over her glasses at me. I nodded.
“More than happy,” I assured her. “I really enjoyed the gala. I’m sure that this will be fun too.”
“Good.” She nodded and then leaned in close as though sharing a secret with me. “I hate these kinds of things. Reason I got into library work was so I didn’t have to worry about fancy parties all the time, but it seems like it comes as part of the territory.
I laughed and leaned back, touching the necklace around my throat. Kristo had given it to me a couple of days ago, a thank-you for Sunday. It was pale, delicate silver with a single pearl pressed into a small claw at the center, and I thought it was about the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
“Well, I’ve got you covered,” I promised her. “Don’t you worry. I’ll be there.”
“Wonderful.” She nodded. “That’s all I needed you for. Thanks.”
I headed back to work and bit my lip as I imagined going to another one of those big, fancy parties all over again. A few months ago, I would have been on her side. I didn’t get into a business as unglamorous as this one because I wanted to be traveling around the country schmoozing people up. But that gala had been what had brought me to Kristo in the first place, so maybe I was better at this kind of thing than I thought I was.
I headed back to my desk to pick up where I’d left off with the filing. It was monotonous work, but it allowed my mind to wander, and I let it stray to the night we’d met again. All those people I’d chatted up—and apparently made an impression on if some of them were coming to the fundraiser to see me again—and only one of them had really stuck with me. The man I was married to. My husband.
I grabbed my phone out of my pocket and sent him a text suggesting we meet for dinner that evening and telling him about the fundraiser that was happening soon. Knowing him, he’d likely throw a big pile of his own money at the library just to make a point as well as buying me a dress so expensive, it could have funded a whole library all by itself.
He agreed at once, replying to my text barely a minute later and making me grin with a kiss at the end of the message. Fuck, I was looking forward to seeing him. It was weird because I was already married to and living with this man, yet I still got those early-relationship flutters whenever I heard from him, whenever he showed this kind of interest in me. The paradox sometimes made my head spin, but like so many other things to do with our romance, I didn’t think about it too hard and tried to go with the flow as best I could.
The rest of the day seemed to inch by painfully slow as I waited for work to finish up so I could go out to dinner with Kristo. He texted me the name of the place he had booked for us, and I looked it up and practically swooned when I saw the tiny, intricate little plates they served and the menu of the day they had up on the website. I finished up at five on the dot and swept out the door, hopping into my newly-refurbished car and heading across to meet him at the restaurant.
He was already there, waiting outside for me, eyes narrowed against the bright late afternoon sunshine. He offered me his arm, and I took it as we headed inside, and I planted a swift kiss against his cheek. Fuck, it was fun to play at this stuff, even if I knew it was just a game.
“Our table’s ready,” he told me, and we headed to grab our seats, getting some sparkling water and our menus.
“So, that fundraiser, huh?” he remarked casually, glancing over the menu. “Should I be worried that you’re going to meet another husband and run off with him?”
“I don’t make a habit of marrying men I barely know.” I rolled my eyes at him. He grinned.
“Sure about that?” he teased, and he paused for a moment, taking a sip of his water and just looking at me over the top of it.
“You should come with me,” I blurted out before I could stop myself. “It could be fun.”
“Sure thing,” he replied casually. “I’m your husband. It would be odd if I wasn’t there.”
“Thanks,” I beamed at him. “I appreciate it.”
“And I’ll get you a new dress,” he went on. I waved my hand.
“You don’t have to—”
“But I want to,” he cut me off firmly, and I couldn’t help but laugh at him.
“You know, you’ll make a really great real husband one day,” I remarked, and he cocked his eyebrow at me.
“And what does that make me now?” he asked, and I felt something kindle to life inside me. Didn’t he know how hard it was when he played these kinds of games with me? I decided it was for the best if I just ignored him for the time being and focused on this evening instead.
“Hmm, I don’t know,” I lifted the menu up to hide from him for a moment. Whenever we were out for dates like this, I found my mind wandering, found myself drawn to this idea of us truly being together. I just had to keep reminding myself what he’d said to me, the truth he’d told me about the kind of person he was and the love he wanted or didn’t.
He seemed to sense my quietness and changed the subject.
“So, this gala,” he went on casually. “Who’s going to be there?”
“No one who’s going to be much use to your business,” I admitted. “It’s probably just going to be people who want to think they’re fancy and cultured schmoozing near a library. Not much.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” He grinned, cocking his head at me. “And seeing you in a new dress.”