When she flitted her attention to Sue, she found her whispering in Mark’s ear, oblivious to anything but her future husband.
“So, when is the happy day, Mia?” Sue’s mother asked. “I’m told you and Michael are engaged.”
Shit. Now what?
Fingers still gently circling her knee, Michael answered mildly, “We haven’t set a date.”
“Oh.”
“Hey!” Jason said from the door to the room. “We made it!”
Michael’s fingers stilled on her knee.
Jason pulled Kelli from behind him and her face flushed red as he addressed the parents. “This is Kel.”
“Sorry we’re late,” she said, nervously tucking her red hair behind an ear.
“We’ll blame the growler you ordered when we left the pub,” Mark said in a good-natured tone. “Sit down, dude, before you fall down. He indicated the chair next to Sue’s mom.
“Ah, no. I want to sit next to my good friend, Mike. You guys met Michael Anderson yet? He’s a big deal.”
The fingers on her knee tightened and she placed her hand over his.
Poor Kelli. She knew exactly how she felt. Humiliated. Angry. Sad. Jason didn’t drink often, but it wasn’t pretty when he did.
When Jason took the chair next to Michael, Sue popped up. “I think I’ll catch up with my mom. Why don’t you sit here, next to Mia, Kelli?”
Mark shot Jason a dark look, but his friend missed it completely.
Sue’s mother cleared her throat. “Well, we were just talking about Mia and Michael’s wedding plans.”
No. No they weren’t. “Or lack thereof,” Mia said without thinking, straightening her silverware.
The table fell completely silent and Michael’s grip on her knee loosened. “No date yet. I’m just glad she said yes.” His fingers resumed their gentle, reassuring circles and she let out a grateful breath of air.
Jason pointed to her left hand. “No ring yet, either, huh?”
“Well, I…we—” How in the world could she cover for this oversight?
“It’s being designed right now. As you know, I deal in antiquities and have access to some of the greatest craftsmen in the world. Mia’s an artist, so when I asked her to marry me, I didn’t present just any ring. I wanted her input.” He lifted his hand from her leg and took her hand. “Tell them about the ring, Mia.”
Oh, crap. Why didn’t he just make up something? He knew all about this kind of thing and she didn’t have a clue. He squeezed her hand and she looked in his deep blue eyes that no longer appeared crisp, like the ocean, as they had earlier. They were richer, like her favorite indigo pigment in her paint box, imbued with amber flecks. “Blue,” she said. “And gold.”
“Mia’s an artist?” Jason interrupted.
“She is. Quite accomplished, too. You haven’t seen her paintings?”
A strange tingle traversed her spine. No, he hadn’t. She’d never let him see them. Air whooshed out of her lungs. Never once had she protected her art from Michael, yet she’d hidden it from Jason. Michael’s words from their carriage ride in the park were true, but she’d never really seen it until now. “Just like me, you only let people see what you want them to see. You manipulate your image every bit as much as I do.”
“Excuse me, please,” Mia said, pushing to her feet. Michael stood immediately to pull her chair back. Leaving the table like this was awkward, but not nearly as awkward as losing her shit in front of them. Here she’d been all self-righteous about her own openness and condemning of Michael being so controlled and guarded, when she was exactly the same. Hell, even the Super had seen it. “You two are very much alike,” he’d said.
Instead of retreating to the ladies room, where she was sure Sue would follow, she stepped out on the front porch of the restaurant. The cool crisp air in her lungs made the near panic subside. The unreliability and lateness? She’d done it on purpose. She’d been pushing people away. But not Michael. He’d seen right through it, straight into her, as if she were made of clear glass. “I have a theory about that,” he’d said. Scatterbrained and forgetful at times because she was easily distracted was far different than unreliable, which was the image she’d created. You couldn’t let people down if they didn’t rely on you.
“Figured it out, did you?” he handed her a shot glass. “Introspection and revelation can be inconveniently timed.”
She sniffed the straw-colored liquid. “Tequila.”
“Jason says it does good things for you.”
She smiled at his reference to the conversation in his apartment and leaned on the porch rail. “And you responded by saying that you do good things for me.”
“I’d like to.”
Whoa. No holding back. It was almost surreal to be here with this man only her wildest fantasies could conjure. A man so deep, she hadn’t even begun to scratch the surface. “What are we doing?”
“Taking off our masks.”
She nodded and downed the shot in one gulp.