“What are you having?” he asks, still masked by the menu.
“I think I’m going to go with the Chef’s Choice of salmon.” It’s stuffed and served over vegetables and sounds absolutely yummy. “You?”
However, I already know what he’ll decide. He’s going for the steak, which is why I chose this restaurant. They specialize in fish and steak.
“I think I’ll have the bone-in ribeye.”
I smile to myself because I probably could have ordered for him. At least that much of him hasn’t changed.
“You’re smiling.”
“It’s nothing. I just knew what you’d order.”
His mouth curls slightly and the knot in my stomach eases. “Am I that predictable?”
“Actually, no.” I would have never predicted that he’d take me on the balcony of a masquerade ball.
The waiter arrives and we order. When he leaves, the uncomfortable silence presses between us. Figuring the mood can’t get worse, I decide to get one question answered.
“I came by the hospital the other day.” I pause. “The day after the ball,” I clarify.
His piercing blue eyes finally focus on me and I get the feeling he’s been avoiding the contact.
“You did? You didn’t stop and say hi?”
His voice is guarded and the distance that’s grown between us becomes palpable.
“Actually, you were pretty busy. Some might say you were even a bit tongue tied.”
His eyes narrow. “You saw me.”
I nod and finally just blurt it out. “You had some blonde wrapped all around you. I didn’t want to interrupt.”
His eyes widened. “The noise,” he says more to himself. “That was you. I heard someone walking away. I assumed someone on staff caught us.”
“Guilty,” I say a little wanly raising a hand like a child in preschool. “Imagine my surprise especially after you… we um… on the balcony.”
“Cate.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I should have known after you walked away and said nothing that night, you were just acting in the spirit of the party and it didn’t mean anything to you.”
“That’s not it,” he growls. I watch his jaw set. He’s a little fierce when he’s determined about something. “I was angry that night, seeing you there. Dancing with guys, their hands all over you.” That is an exaggeration but I keep quiet. “When I hoped you felt what’s between us, you ran out to the balcony. When I followed you out there, I had no idea what I planned to do or say. Then you let me touch you—”
“Your wine,” a red faced waiter says, holding a bottle of merlot.
Andy glances up as the flushed waiter pours him some and lets him taste before he leaves the bottle with us.
Andy continues as if the interruption hasn’t happened. “I took what we both wanted. What you eagerly let me have and I won’t apologize for it.”
I can’t blame him. “I don’t expect you to.”
“But what you saw at the hospital wasn’t what you thought. Nurses have hit on me since day one, but that’s probably because I’m new and single. The one you saw is a little more aggressive than most. She won’t take no for an answer.”
“Sexual harassment,” I say, but it’s more of a joke.
“Exactly. I had to report her because this isn’t the first time she wouldn’t back off.”
I sit back because you don’t often hear men taking a stand on a willing woman throwing themselves at them.
“Is she pretty?”
He pauses mid-sip. “Does it matter? I’m not interested. Is that the reason you went out with Ted Caine?”
I could have lied. Instead I opt for the truth. “It wasn’t to spite you. He asked and I assumed you’d moved on.”
He’s quick with a retort. “And you know what they say. To assume is to make an ass out of you and me.”
“Fine,” I say, defeated. “I could have talked to you about it.” I hate how our conversation is taking a turn for the worse. “But that doesn’t explain why you went with Désirée to the White House Press Dinner.”
“And that’s what you think?”
“That’s what she said when she saw me out with Ted and took the picture to share with the world, but especially you.”
“Again, you assume the worst. When in actuality, she was there, but not with me. I went with my college buddy. You remember the two guys that were with me that night I took you home? I know them from undergrad. When I moved in the area, I called them up knowing they lived here. Well, one of them is a Congressman. His date bailed on him at the last minute and he talked me into going with him.”
Insert foot. I have gotten everything wrong. “How did it go? Or is that scowl for me?” I ask tentatively.
He sighs. “Both actually. I feel like all this misunderstanding could have easily been explained if you just trusted me.”
“I do.”
He shakes his head. “You don’t. And maybe that’s partly my fault for how I left things on the balcony.” He at least looks a bit shamefaced.