Chapter 44
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
LEXI
“You’ll be moving in with him five minutes from now.” Becca’s lying on my bed, while I sit at my dresser in my underwear, applying makeup.
“No, I won’t. We haven’t even officially dated yet.”
“It’s not often people go on their first real date two months after falling in love and sleeping with each other countless times.”
“I did not fall in love with him the first time I met him at his apartment to talk about the book.”
“Totally did.”
“Did not.” My voice comes out weird because I’m focusing on applying mascara and my tongue always sticks out when I do that.
Also, while I know now that it was love at first sight, I’m not sure it counts if you don’t realize it at the time.
“You’ve had this weird glow about you ever since you got home that day.”
“I do not glow.”
“Totally do. It’s like you’re a ghost in an old black-and-white movie from when the special effects were shit. You know, like someone gliding around in a long white dress with a white fuzz around them. You’ve had that fuzzy white stuff around you ever since that day.”
“It sounds attractive and romantic.”
I have to admit, I do feel pretty glowy ahead of my first real date with the man I have completely fallen for and, after spending hours on the phone with him over the last three weeks, am more certain than ever I’m meant to be with.
It was hard not to accept his offer to pick me up at the airport and whisk me off to his new place.
And, boy, I am desperate to see him, and touch him, and kiss him, and oh my God to get naked with him.
But I knew after the long journey, which involved kicking my heels at Cairo airport for a few hours on a layover, I’d want to wash and sleep off the flight and make myself look as presentable as possible first.
I want our first evening back together to be something extra special that we reminisce about for years to come.
I go to grab my dress that’s hanging on the back of the door where I steamed it earlier. It’s spent so many years squished in my closet between all the other nice clothes I never wear that it was a mass of creases.
“Wow.” Becca sits up when I pull the black-and-white-polka dot dress over my head. “I’d forgotten what you look like when you make an effort.”
“Gee, the compliments keep rolling in this evening.” I shimmy the wide neck down until it’s off my shoulders.
“Seriously, you look fucking gorgeous. Like the actual princess you’re about to become.”
“I’m not about to become a princess. Could you zip me up, please?” I back up to the end of the bed.
“You’ll have a…what is it they call them? Oh yeah, a lady-in-waiting to do stuff like this for you before too long.” She says lady-in-waiting with an over-the-top posh English accent.
“We will not have staff like that.”
“We. See? You said we. You’re totally already married.”
“His parents’ heads would explode if we’d done that secretly, without bagpipes and flags.” I roll my eyes. Ugh, the thought of having to deal with them isn’t the greatest, but it will be a small price to pay for being with Oliver.
His new Soho loft looks gorgeous. He’s given me a tour over the phone, and I can’t wait to see it in person.
It’s a monumental move for him because it’s the first home in New York he’s paid for himself.
And he’s able to do that because we’ve received the first payment from the streaming service after submitting our treatment for the first season of the documentary series.
“This bag is perfect. Thank you.” I hold up the small lime green purse Becca’s lent me. It’s a designer number, but I don’t recall the name.
At the sound of a car horn in the street below, she hops off the bed and pulls back the sheer curtain just enough to peek around it. “Big, shiny black car about the size of this apartment. I guess your royal chariot awaits.”
“Okay, now I’m nervous.” My belly is doing flips and flops and somersaults and cartwheels. I press a hand to it. “And awkward. And like I’m going to make a fool of myself.”
“Dude, you’ll be fine.” She crosses the room and hugs me. “You’ve been having video-chat sex for weeks. And nothing could be more embarrassing than that.”
The poor driver’s been standing by the back door of the car since I walked outside, which feels like it was half an hour ago given how slowly and carefully I’m making my way down the front steps of my building.
After six weeks in desert boots, these heels feel like a bad joke.
And the last thing I want is to spend my first date with Oliver at urgent care.
The nerves don’t help. But that’s silly, because we’ve talked so much now that it already feels like we’re in a solid, committed relationship.
At least I’ll have a few minutes alone in the car to pull myself together before we get to wherever Oliver’s meeting me. He refused to say where we’re going tonight, but since it’s early evening, I assume we’ll be eating somewhere.
Finally, I make it to the sidewalk with all my bones intact and teeter toward the driver, who opens the door.
“Thank you,” I say, as I duck my head into the car.
“Good evening.” The unexpected sight of Oliver’s mischievous smile as he holds up two glasses of champagne jolts my heart and makes me jump, sending me stumbling back in shock.
“What are you doing here?” Trying to regain my balance, I end up inelegantly falling onto the back seat beside him.
“Whoa!” He fights to keep the glasses level to prevent the champagne from sloshing out. “Aren’t you pleased to see me?”
“Very. Just surprised.” I adjust my dress and black wool coat and generally try to tidy myself up before I take the glass he’s handing to me. “I thought I had a few minutes to get over my first-date jitters.”
“Do you often go on first dates with men you’ve already slept with multiple times?”
“I find it’s best to get that out of the way first. You know, figure out if that part’s compatible. And if it isn’t…” I shrug.
“Well, I’m happy to have passed that test.” He taps his glass against mine and leans in for a kiss.
“You’re going to get covered in lipstick.” The words are barely out before his lips connect with mine, and all my worries, all my stress, all my nerves disappear on the wave of calm that comes with the touch of his mouth against mine.
I never knew it was possible for someone to turn me on yet also make me feel comfortingly safe all at the same time.
“Welcome home,” he whispers as the driver pulls into traffic. “I’d much prefer to be welcoming you into our home, but apparently you won’t have any of that.”
He wanted me to move in with him as soon as I got back to New York. But, despite Becca’s best efforts to talk me into doing just that, I’m sticking to my dating plan.
I nudge him with my elbow. “Told you, I don’t want to skip the fun part.”
“You don’t think the living-together part would be fun?”
“Yes. But I want the dating part to look back on too. I mean, the normal dating part. Well, as normal as it could ever be dating you. Rather than just the brief weird time we had in Scotland.”
“Weird but great,” he says.
I nod. “And I’m looking forward to seeing you when no one’s trying to listen in on us.”
“No one was listening in the church.” He takes my hand and kisses the back of it.
“Giles the perv definitely heard at least the end of it.”
“Lucky Giles.” Oliver wiggles his eyebrows. “Anyway, did you get time to tell your parents about us?”
I’d promised myself I would explain everything to them before I left Yemen but struggled with where to start.
I wasn’t sure how I’d go from previously telling them to ignore any press reports about me dating Oliver because it was absolutely not true, to telling them it now is totally true, and it’s serious, and they should probably meet him.
“Yeah, called them from the airport before I left.”
“What, like five minutes before boarding so you could say, Hey, I really am shagging that prince guy now, but gotta run!”
“Damn, why didn’t I think to put it like that? No, I was there an hour early, so I had plenty of time.”
“And how did they take it.”
“Shocked. Stunned. I had to tell them each three times before they finally absorbed it. They kept passing the phone back and forth like neither of them could believe it.”
“And are they…happy about it?”
“Yes. When I landed I had a text from Mom. Hold on. I’ll show you.”
I pull the phone from my borrowed purse.
MOM
Sorry if we were a bit flabbergasted earlier. Not often you hear news like that.
So happy that you’re happy. He seems like a good man.
“Love her already,” Oliver says. “Clearly an excellent judge of character.”
“I’ll book them flights and a hotel so they can come visit and meet you. But we need to go through the work schedule first to see when you’re free and figure out dates that fit with their days off work.”
He wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me to his side. “Can’t wait to meet the people who raised this incredible woman.”
“Are you going to tell this incredible woman where we’re going?” I ask as the car turns north.
“Wait and see.” And there it is, that glint in his eye that says he’s up to something.
A glint I will never tire of.
When the car pulls over by the West 77th Street entrance to Central Park, Oliver picks up the bag with my cute-but-difficult shoes in it.
Turns out, he’d stopped by yesterday to collect my sneakers from Becca for me to change into.
Apparently we have to do a bit of walking.
He’s clearly put some planning into this.
“I’ll carry these,” he says. “You can put them back on when we get there if you like.”
“I assume you’re not going to tell me where there is?”
“Nope.” He kisses my temple and climbs out of the car.
I follow him out to see another black car pull in behind us and Cole and Dane get out.
“Hey, guys,” I say.
They nod back politely, eyes everywhere but on me.
Oliver takes my hand, places it in the crook of his elbow, and leads me into the park.
“Are we going to the Boathouse for dinner?”