Second Chance: A Military Football Romance - Page 417

“Beer would be great.”

“Why don’t we go out onto the deck,” Claire said. “Chloe and I will get the drinks; Alicia’s made some delicious appetizers, so the two of you can get started on those and we’ll join you shortly.”

“Sure,” I said, though I had no clue who the hell Alicia was. A sister? I didn’t think Chloe had mentioned having any siblings.

I followed her father outside. The deck was huge, overlooking an even bigger green lawn, broken up by several garden plots overflowing with all types of flowers. “Have a seat,” he said, and we sat down at the teak wood table, which was laden with several trays of food.

“So,” John said. He didn’t say anything else after that, though, and just looked increasingly uncomfortable. He didn’t strike me as the sort of person who was usually at a loss for words. He looked over at the food and cleared his throat. “It looks like Alicia has put together a fine spread.” He blanched at the potential innuendo that could be deduced from “Alicia’s fine spread,” but neither of us said anything. Under other circumstances, we might’ve shared a laugh, but that was clearly not going to happen.

“And Alicia is ...?” I looked around, not seeing this Alicia or any signs of her. I really had no recollection to Chloe ever mentioning her name.

“Our chef,” he replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Today’s usually one of her days off, but we asked that she come in and prepare something since you were coming by.”

I smiled. “I gave my chef the day off today.”

He returned my smile, though I could tell it was mostly to cover up his confusion as to whether or not I actually had a chef.

“Anyway,” he said. “These are the appetizers here, and it looks like we’ve got some grilled portabellas, bacon-wrapped scallops, and some crab cakes, which are one of Alicia’s specialties.”

“Everything looks great.”

I imagined Alicia, trapped in the hot kitchen, a huge ball and chain attached to her leg, being forced to make hundreds and hundreds of crab cakes ....

I laughed, just a little, but enough that I couldn’t cover it up with a cough or something.

Chloe’s dad looked at me. “Something funny?”

“Oh, uh ...”

Luckily, Chloe and her mother appeared with the drinks, saving me from trying to think up an excuse for my laughter.

“Here we go!” her mother said cheerfully.

“So, Graham, tell us about your childhood. Did you grow up here?”

“Afraid so,” I said, intending it to be a joke—yes, a bad one, I know—but realizing that neither of Chloe’s parents were going to take it that way.

“Oh.” They exchanged glances. “Is something wrong with the Cape?” her mother asked.

“No, I don’t mean it that way. Although, winters here can be kind of rough. That was just my attempt at a lame joke.”

There was some forced laughter and then some more silence.

There was absolutely no cohesion, no meshing, no middle ground for us to meet on. To combat the complete awkwardness, I drank more beer. Drinking more beer made me more affable. I laughed louder, longer. Was that thing Chloe’s dad said even that funny? Questionable, but I laughed anyway. And here was her mother, trying to reignite the conversation, asking me what my parents did for a living.

Under normal circumstances, I would have said that my mother was a waitress and I didn’t have contact with my father. But not today. Today I chugged the rest of my beer. I looked at Chloe’s mother.

“My mother works in the service industry. And by service industry I mean The Finery. Know of that place?”

Claire had no idea, but for a second, I swear, John blanched. And the reason he did so was because he did know the place. Whether that was just because he’d driven by there or actually had personal experience, I had no idea, but finally! Common ground. I seized the opportunity.

“Yes!” I exclaimed. I leaned over and clapped him on the back. He nearly jumped out of his seat. “You know The Finery!”

“What? No, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” But the look on his face said he knew exactly what I was talking about.

“What is it? What’s The Finery?” Claire asked, looking first to John, then to me.

Chloe nudged me. I had no idea if she knew what The Finery was, but from the expression on her face, I had a feeling she’d at least heard about it.

Tags: Claire Adams Romance
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