Not Pretending Anymore(20)

That thrilled me, but at the same time, I had to wonder what the hell was taking him so long to ask me out. He could have easily done so by now.

A few minutes later, Daisy appeared. “Holy shit, Molly. Spill on your new guy.”

I gave her the same story I’d just given Will—that it was new and the verdict was still out.

“Well, if it doesn’t work out, send him my way, because a man who looks like that and brings you food and flowers is gold.”

I felt like saying, yeah, men like that don’t exist .

But then again, what about Declan was really fake? He does look the way he does, and he is an amazing cook. While tonight’s dinner might have been for show, the Belgian waffles he made me the other night weren’t. And neither was his offer to accompany me to visit my dad, or the fact that he was a really good listener.

My sights were set on Will, but for some reason, as the night wore on, it was Declan I couldn’t stop thinking about.





CHAPTER 7




* * *



Molly



Declan found a parking spot around the corner from my father’s house in Lincoln Park.

“So I’ll just be here doing some work if you need me.”

I felt bad making him wait in the car. He’d said he had work to do, but I couldn’t imagine he would have chosen to be stuck in his vehicle if he weren’t doing me a favor. And if I admitted that I felt bad asking him to wait here for me, he’d insist on doing it anyway. So instead, I made it seem like I needed his support at dinner. It wasn’t a total lie.

“Do you...think we could change the plan? I’d love it if you could come inside with me.”

His forehead wrinkled. “You want me to have dinner with you and your dad?”

“I know it’s kind of random for me to bring you along, but I’d prefer not to be alone.”

“Well, that’s all you had to say.” Declan removed his seatbelt. “But what’s the story?”

“What do you mean?”

“Who am I supposed to be?”

I punched his shoulder gently. “How about my roommate, Declan?”

“Now there’s a novel idea.” He chuckled.

“Just be yourself.”

He winked. “I can do that.”

We exited the car and made our way up my father’s front steps. He lived in a three-million-dollar, single-family home on a posh, tree-lined street in one of the nicest neighborhoods in Chicago.

My “stepmother” Kayla answered the door. “Molly, it’s so good to see you.”

She patted me on the back as we did the obligatory hug.

“You, too.”

“And who’s this?” she asked.

“This is my friend Declan. Hope you don’t mind me bringing him along.”

“Of course not! We have plenty of food.”

“Good to meet you,” Declan said.

I could’ve sworn Kayla gave Declan a once-over. That wouldn’t have surprised me. Anyone who could steal a man from his family has no shame.

“Where’s Siobhan?” I asked.

“Your sister is at her friend’s house. She wanted to see you, but she was invited to a sleepover that started at four. She was torn.”

“Ah,” I said. “Hopefully I’ll catch her next time.”

As much as I would have liked to see my nine-year-old half-sister, I was kind of happy to have my father all to myself tonight. Siobhan was so talkative that no one would have gotten a word in edgewise.

“Your father is in the living room,” Kayla said.

We followed her through the foyer into the house. Dad had been looking out a window and turned when he heard us enter.

He opened his arms. “There’s my beautiful daughter.”

“Hey, Dad.”

As we embraced, I could feel how thin he’d become. His head was bald, but I knew that was because he’d proactively shaved it. But it was still shocking to see.

His eyes moved to my right. “Who’s the guy?”

Declan extended his hand. “Hey, Dr. Corrigan. I’m Declan, Molly’s roommate.”

My father nodded in recognition. “Oh...this is the funny guy you told me about.”

Declan’s eyes widened.

“Shh…” I smiled. “Declan can’t know I talk nice about him.”

“I’m glad he could join us.”

“Me, too, Dr. Corrigan.”

“Please call me Robert, Declan. Can I offer you something to drink?”

“That’d be great.”

We followed Dad into the dining room. The room was adorned with gorgeous crown molding. The old-school architecture of my father’s house was striking. He opened the liquor cabinet, which was a built-in hutch in the corner.

“I’ve got almost anything to suit your fancy. What do you like?”

“A scotch will be great,” Declan said.

“Coming right up.” He turned to me. “And my Molly? What does she want?”

“I’ll just have a white wine.”

He hollered into the kitchen. “Kayla, can you pour Molly some of the white you opened last night?”

“Of course,” I heard her say.