Chapter 27
TWENTY-SEVEN
Amelia adjusted her purse and squared her shoulders. She locked her apartment door and did a double take when she saw the door open to number 303, with a young couple trying to fit a couch through the door. They dropped it halfway through the threshold and scowled at each other.
“Are you relations of Mrs. Gordon?” Amelia asked. She pointed to her door. “I’m her neighbor.”
“We’re moving in,” the man said, wiping sweat off his forehead. “I’m Eric. Nice to meet you.”
“Kayla,” the woman said.
Amelia shook hands with the two of them, frowning at the slice of apartment she could see through the door. It was utterly bare of Mrs. Gordon’s knickknacks. “I didn’t even know Mrs. Gordon moved out,” she said, feeling oddly hurt.
Yet another person leaving her stranded. It wasn’t that she loved Mrs. Gordon, but the old lady had been a constant in her life since she’d moved into the building.
“The old bitch disappeared overnight,” Mr. Petrovski said, poking his head through the open door. “Didn’t even take her cat. Now Her Majesty is shaking her rear at my Winston all hours of the day and night.”
“She didn’t take her cat?” Amelia gaped. “Did she die?”
“One can only hope,” he replied, then slammed his door.
Amelia turned back to the new couple and grimaced. “He’s actually really nice. His cat is great.”
Eric and Kayla exchanged a glance, then gave her a polite smile. She left them to maneuver their couch and jogged down the stairs, head spinning.
The restaurant loomed ahead, inside which Ben probably waited. Unless he was late. Should she text him to tell him she was nearly there? Was she being too eager by being on time? But being late was so rude. On Maggie’s wedding day, when Leo was late?—
No . No, Amelia wouldn’t think about Leo. Not tonight. Not when she was the new-and-improved version of herself, the version that dated and flirted and smiled coquettishly.
Stomping down the sidewalk, she opened the door and bared her teeth at the hostess, who blinked in response. With a deep breath, Amelia rearranged her face into her best approximation of a smile. “Hi,” she said, “I’m meeting someone? Ben?” Why did her sentences keep coming out as questions?
“Of course,” the hostess said with a professional smile. “Follow me.”
The rapid beat of Amelia’s heart drummed against her ribs. As she kept her gaze on the woman’s swinging ponytail, she reminded herself of all the things Leo had taught her. She just had to be herself—truly. If she felt attraction, all she had to do was let it show. And if all else failed, she could touch Ben’s arm and compliment his shoes.
Ben stood when she approached his table. There was an awkward moment when they looked at each other, unsure of how to greet each other. A hug? A kiss on the cheek? A handshake? A high five?
Deep breath . Emboldened, and determined to make this date a success, Amelia cut the tension and reached over for a half-hug and a cheek kiss. It was moderately awkward, but it was fine. When they sat down across from each other and asked for water from the hostess, Amelia’s nerves settled slightly.
“I’m glad we got to see each other,” Ben told her. “This place is supposed to be great.” He gestured to the menu.
“Oh, it’s all small share plates, is it?” That meant discussing the food and coming to an agreement about what to order, which was good because it was natural conversation, and also awful because what if they didn’t agree on what they wanted to eat?
Stop overthinking .
Amelia studied the menu for a moment, seeing nothing. Her nerves ratcheted tighter and tighter until all she wanted to do was run away.
But she hadn’t gone through a week with Leo St. James and the utterly ridiculous heartbreak that followed just to fail at the first hurdle. She’d kissed him and had sex with him, and it had been good. It had been great! Sure, right now, she had no desire to get physical with Ben. But she would not run away from this. Maybe she was awkward and uncomfortable, but she’d been awkward and uncomfortable on her first sales call when she launched her business. This was no different.
Gathering her courage, Amelia glanced under the table. “Oh, different shoes today,” she noted. “I like these ones too.”
Ben beamed. “Thanks! I got them on sale.”
So he’d bought this pair himself. That was encouraging! Amelia asked him where he’d bought the shoes, and the stilted conversation became a little bit smoother. She relaxed, and then the waitress was filling up glasses of water and asking if they wanted to order drinks or appetizers. They laughed about not having even glanced at the menu yet, then began discussing options. Conversation flowed.
This was better than Amelia could have expected. She even worked up the courage to reach over and touch Ben’s hand when he suggested they get the grilled corn, cooing about how much she loved the idea, really laying it on thick. Ben looked pleased.
Then conversation turned to work, and before they knew it, the food was arriving. It was a perfectly pleasant conversation. Amelia even found herself enjoying it. There was no spark, of course, and she found herself comparing Ben the Barista to Leo at every turn—and why was she thinking of him as Ben the Barista now, instead of just Ben?
When the waitress came over to clear two of the small plates they’d finished, Ben peered at her curiously.
“What?” she asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way,” Ben started.
“But…”
“But I feel like you’re not really sensing any chemistry between us.”
Amelia froze for a moment, then relaxed her shoulders. “Is it that obvious?”
“Not at first,” Ben answered, smiling softly. “But I have the feeling I’m being friend-zoned.”
“Can I just say, I hate it when guys use the word ‘friend zone’ as if it’s some fate worse than death? You should be glad to be my friend!”
Ben laughed. “If you were to call me your friend, I would be glad, Amelia.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re not feeling a spark either, are you?”
He shrugged. “Sorry.”
“Can’t force it, I guess.”
“Nope.” He stabbed a potato with his fork and chewed it, then said, “I had high hopes for this date. I’ve always thought you were really cute, but I figured you were too good for me.”
Not again . Amelia stared. That was crazy talk. “That’s crazy talk.”
Ben chuckled. “Come on. Beautiful, talented, clever, and runs her own business? What guy wouldn’t be intimidated?”
The words rang through her like the peals of a massive bell. She frowned, mulling over the words, thinking about that last day with Leo in the car. “Intimidated?”
“Of course.” He ate another potato.
Amelia sipped her drink as her heart began to pound. Here she thought Leo had pushed her away because he wanted to keep living the single life, playing the field, sowing his wild oats. But that was the opposite of everything she’d learned about him. Leo craved companionship and closeness. Was it possible he’d been intimidated …by Amelia ?
“Who was that guy you were with at the bakery a couple of weeks ago?” Ben asked, going in for a third potato. In his defense, they were delicious.
“Huh?”
“The one who sat with you when you came to pick up your sister’s wedding cake.”
“Oh,” Amelia answered, already knowing who Ben had been talking about. It wasn’t like there were many guys who sat with her at Camilla’s bakery. “That’s Leo.”
“And you and him…?”
She let out a long sigh. “I don’t know.”
A sad smile tugged at Ben’s lips. “You and I never had a chance, did we?”
“I’m sorry,” Amelia exclaimed. “I shouldn’t have agreed to this date, but everything’s so confusing, and?—”
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Ben cut in. “I’ve wanted to try this restaurant since it opened. This gave me the perfect excuse.”
“You’re not mad?”
He shrugged. “Nope. Might be time for me to enter the hellscape of online dating, though.”
Amelia laughed. Relief swept through her, cool and sweet. Sure, the date had been an utter failure as far as romance went, but she’d come here, and she hadn’t messed up. She hadn’t been unconscionably awkward, and she hadn’t scared Ben away.
“So you and Leo. What’s going on there?” Ben asked.
Amelia grimaced. “Nothing, unfortunately.”
“You like him?”
She let out a sigh. “Yes. A lot. Too much. He was clear with me about what he wanted, which was nothing serious, and I went ahead and opened my heart to him anyway. It’s my own fault for feeling heartbroken about it.”
“Did you tell him how you felt?”
“No, but thanks, Dr. Ben.”
He grinned, hair flopping down over his eyes as he leaned forward to grab a little crispy piece of chicken skin that had been pushed to the side of one of their plates. The food had been truly divine tonight, so that was another bonus. The evening hadn’t been a total waste.
“I think you should tell him,” Ben said.
“He’s probably gone by now.” Amelia tried to gulp away the lump in her throat. “I probably won’t see him again.”
Ben chewed, his gaze drifting over her shoulder. Eyes widening slightly, he swallowed and said, “I’m not so sure about that.”
“Amelia!” a familiar voice screamed. Murmurs grew behind her, and Amelia spun in her chair, heart thundering.
Leo stood in the restaurant doorway, shirt askew, hair mussed, eyes wild. He blew past the hostess and ignored the wide-eyed stare of the other patrons, eyes stuck on Amelia as he stomped across the restaurant toward her.
Heart a trapped bird in her chest, Amelia put a hand to her breast and tried to catch her breath. Her voice was gone—completely disappeared. She couldn’t say a word.
In the restaurant’s windows, Amelia saw three faces pressed to the glass: Camilla, Lucy, and Scarlett. They must have told him where she was. But why?
Leo came to a stop beside her table. He gave Ben a short, withering glare, then turned back to Amelia. They stared at each other for a long moment, the tension in the air shimmering until Amelia could hardly breathe.
When she was sure she couldn’t stand another moment, Leo dropped to his knees beside her and said two words on a gust of breath: “Marry me.”