“Yeah, we’ve had many special family dinners at this restaurant. We always commemorated major moments here, like our adoption days and graduations. Things that mattered.” Ford lifts my hand and lightly kisses my knuckles. “And since today marks our first official date, I figured we could—”
“Larkin?” I turn around and spot my brother, wearing a sport coat, khakis, and a confused expression on his face. “What’s going on?”
Oh crap.
Oh God, it’s my brother.
My brother is here, watching my boss kiss my knuckles.
“Hey, Beau,” I say with a wave, trying to act as casual as possible. This is all normal. Ford kissing my hand, totally normal. “Uh, just having dinner. You?”
He takes a step forward. “Obviously you’re having dinner. But what are you two doing?” He motions between Ford and me.
“Oh.” I laugh nervously. With everything that’s been going on, I forgot to tell Beau about Ford and me. From his narrowed eyes and furrowed brow, he’s not liking the fact that he found out like this. “Well, you know, we’re, uh . . . we’re kind of dating.”
“Dating?” Beau asks, his expression turning into worry. “Larkin, what about your job? What you’ve worked so hard for.”
Ford steps in. “I assure you, nothing—”
“There you are, you hunk of meat . . . Ford, Larkin?” Palmer says as she appears at Beau’s side and loops her hand through his arm. And, oh my God, does she look gorgeous tonight. Wearing a skintight navy-blue dress and nude heels, she is turning all the heads in the room . . . including my brother’s. “What are you two doing here?”
“They’re on a date,” Beau says, eyes still on me. I can feel his worry, which translates into guilt for me.
“What?” Palmer says, louder than I think she expected. “You’re on a date with your assistant? Ford, what the hell are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking I’m a grown-ass man and I can do what I want.” He motions to Beau and Palmer. “And what’s this?”
“This is exactly what it seems like. Beau and I are an item.” Palmer cuddles in closer to my brother. Look at them, so cute. And the smile on Beau’s face, well, that makes me—
“Since when?” Ford asks.
“Why does it matter?” Palmer shoots back.
“Yes, how long?” I ask Beau.
“Not that long,” Beau answers, all of a sudden squirming, but then he turns it back on me. “Why didn’t you tell me about you and Ford?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask, gesturing to Palmer.
“Because I wasn’t sure . . . if, you know, this was something to talk about.”
“What do you mean ‘if this was something to talk about’?” Palmer asks, pulling away and looking up at him. “Of course it’s something to talk about, unless you’re ashamed of me.”
“I’m not ashamed of you, not even in the slightest. I just wasn’t sure if—”
“Ford? Palmer?” The door that was just swung open shuts behind Cooper and Nora, who’s also dressed in a tight, formfitting dress, but hers is yellow, and she paired it with navy shoes. “What are you doing here?”
Palmer’s eyes narrow as she points. “Are you bribing the baker with your manly ways?”
“Oh good,” the hostess says, cutting in. “You all know each other. The only seating we have left is a continuous booth, so we’ll have to place you side by side. Right this way.”
No one moves.
Instead, the siblings all just stare at each other. You can see their minds working, trying to process the whole situation.
Nora and Cooper are on a date.
Palmer and Beau clearly have something going on.
And then there’s Ford and me . . .
Why does this seem like a recipe for disaster?
“Maybe we find somewhere else to eat?” I suggest. Calmly, I add, “There’s a lot of tension between you three at the moment; I’d hate for that to ruin any of our nights.”
I can see where this is headed. I’ve seen it in the emails. I’ve witnessed some showdowns in my time. They’re all geared up; they’re all on the defensive. If we eat together, this will not end well, especially if just seeing each other already has them nitpicking.
Ford is the first to acknowledge me. Quietly he says, “It will be okay. I promise. I’m not going to let anything ruin this first date for us. We had plans; we’re sticking to them.” He takes my hand and starts to follow the hostess.
“Well, I promised Nora lobster potato nuggets, and hell if I’m going to back down on the promise.” Cooper falls in behind.
“I’ve been boasting about the bread-and-butter platter all day. Beau and I aren’t going anywhere.”
And then there were six . . .
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
DR. BEAU
I don’t think I’ve ever been this physically uncomfortable in my entire life.
If this were a movie and I was watching these poor souls try to navigate through a dinner with the siblings they can’t currently stand, I’d be cringing behind my hand the entire time.
That’s actually what I want to do, but behind my menu instead.
Oh man is the air thick.
The tension has forced me to take off my jacket and continually wipe my hands on my pants.
There’s no denying there are unresolved issues between the Chance siblings; it’s evident in how they all eyed each other in the lobby of the restaurant. The issues with the party, the instigating emails, the confessions they’ve admitted to since being here—I can feel it’s all on the tip of their tongues. The kindling is there; it’s as if they’re just waiting for someone to light the match.
But besides the Chance sibling drama, I can’t believe my sister didn’t tell me she was dating Ford. We tell each other everything—we made that promise once our dad died. To always stay close, to be a constant presence in each other’s lives, and to never hold anything back.
And here we are, both holding back information.
Every time I glance at her, her eyes turn down, almost as if she’s ashamed.
“Hey, I’m over here,” Palmer says, tapping my hand, which is resting on the table.
“What? Oh yeah, sorry. This evening caught me by surprise.”
“Me too,” Palmer says, her eyes looking worried. “But let’s make the most of it, okay?”
“I would like that.”
Awkwardly, we’re all lined up together in one of those long booths that stretch across the wall, with a table and a single chair on the other side. And these tables are close, so I can hear Ford breathing and Cooper talking about the cake.
Oh no, not the cake . . .
“Did you say butterscotch?” Palmer asks, head whipping to the side.
“Can you not listen to our conversation?” Cooper says. “You have your own date. Focus on your doctor.”
I see the irritation, the insecurity in Palmer’s eyes, and I know Palmer well enough to understand that when there’s insecurity, she goes on the defensive. “I’ll focus on him when Nora confirms there will be a lavender cake.”