A Cosmic Kind of Love(68)
Derek raised an eyebrow and leaned toward me. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Everything in me relaxed.
Wow.
Althea was right.
He was so nice.
“You want to spend our date talking about another guy?”
“Well, you’re just going to be thinking about him, so why not talk to me about it. We’re here. We have drinks. Food. And I’m a guy. I might have a new perspective on the situation for you.”
That was true!
Desperate to talk to someone other than Althea about what I was feeling, I opened up, and hundreds of words about Chris poured out.
Chris
The bar Darcy had directed me to served food too, and the place was packed. Darcy had texted that she was in a small booth at the back of the restaurant, so my gaze moved there first.
Darcy smiled and waved from her spot, and I moved through the tables to get to her.
“Hey.” I leaned down to kiss her proffered cheek. “How are you?”
“I’m great. I ordered you a beer.” She gestured to a bottle of my favorite craft beer as I slid into the booth across from her.
I tapped the beer bottle against her cocktail glass. “Cheers to that.”
Darcy smiled that sweet smile of hers. It was the first thing I noticed about her when we met. She was tall, beautiful, and elegant, but her smile wasn’t glamorous or sultry. It was sweet, and her laugh was almost childish and completely infectious.
The incongruity was disarming and unexpected.
For a while I thought I was in love with her, but I knew now that what we had wasn’t love. Even though it was mostly long-distance, we’d dated for several years, and I’d never shared myself with her the way I had with Hallie in the mere few weeks we’d spent together.
That didn’t mean I didn’t still feel affection toward Darcy. Despite the way things ended, I believed she was a good woman and intelligent and passionate about the things that mattered to her.
“How are you?” she asked.
Something about her tone was too probing. “What do you know?”
Darcy sighed. “Your father mentioned something to my father about you floundering and writing a book?”
“Floundering.” I huffed, feeling the sting even though I wished I cared less.
She touched my arm. “You know I don’t believe you’re floundering.”
I shrugged. “I’m just trying to figure out my next move.”
“And the book?”
My fucking father. “Just something I’m thinking about doing,” I lied. I didn’t want to get into it with her. As great as she was, Darcy loved a project and could be pushy about it.
“Well, if you ever want to run ideas by someone, I’m here.”
“Thank you.” I took a chug of my beer. “What about you? How are the wedding plans going?”
She raised an eyebrow. “You want to hear about that?”
“Darce, we’re good,” I promised her. “I mean it.”
Suddenly she exhaled slowly. “Oh, Chris, I’m exhausted. Matthias’s family hated our engagement party. They hated New York and our friends. Now they’re talking about not coming to the wedding, so days after we booked our venue on Martha’s Vineyard, Matthias starts talking about eloping to Paris. I can’t elope. I’m a Hawthorne. If I don’t marry in New York, it will break my mother’s heart. He doesn’t get that . . . and”—frustration wrinkled her nose—“I think he thinks I’m a spoiled snob.”
I didn’t know how to answer that because, as much as I cared about her, Darcy sometimes could be a little pretentious. But she was never malicious about it. It was just a consequence of her upbringing.
“Great, I’m complaining to my ex-boyfriend about my fiancé. How classy.” She mistook my silence for discomfort. “I’m sorry. You know it devastated Mother when she realized I was switching an astronaut for a French artist.” She threw me a guilty look. “And not just because she was proud of you but because she genuinely loves you.”
“You know I’m fond of your family too. But it wasn’t meant to be. We’re both where we’re supposed to be now.”
“You’re the very best of men, Chris. Do you know that? So smart and kind and understanding.”
Chuckling uncomfortably, I shrugged. “Did you just bring me here to get me drunk and lay compliments on me?”
“Oh, yes, I forgot you hate to be complimented. Do you want something to eat?” Darce changed the subject. “They do hot snacks. We’ll need a menu though.”
My gaze drifted over the table, looking for a menu. Finding none, I searched the tables behind us only to freeze at the sight of pink hair and a familiar profile.
Hallie.
Sitting in the middle of the room at a small table, leaning toward a guy I was secure enough to admit was handsome and laughing flirtatiously, was Hallie.
My Hallie.
On a date.
Suddenly my chest tightened with something like panic.
“I think that’s Hallie Goodman,” Darcy said beside me. “You remember her from my engagement party? She’s planning my wedding— Chris?”
I was already out of my seat, moving around the tables, my feet taking me to her with a mind of their own. The pulse in my neck throbbed, and the heat that flushed through me shocked me. The heat that told me I was angry.