15. Double Date
DOUBLE DATE
LARS
“ D o you want to sit together, or would you like your own table?” Rose asked Jack as we approached the yacht club.
“Can we have our own table?”
“I dunno,” I admitted. “Two tables are two tables. It’s fine to sit together.”
I wasn’t opposed to getting more time one-on-one with Rose, but I worried about giving Jack and her friend that much freedom. Weren’t we supposed to focus on being responsible adults?
“Anytime I get to spend with Katie is wonderful, but a table would be good,” Jack admitted. “Because then I’d have her full attention, and we could say whatever we wanted.”
I chuckled. “You aren’t going to offend us, Jack.”
“I cannot get mushy with you there. I don’t know if you know this, but I would like to tell Katie I really like her, and I know she likes me, but I was too embarrassed to tell her.”
So, Rose and Betty were right. Jack was into girls.
“You know, you could have told me,” I said. “I would have… I don’t know…”
“Been less embarrassing? Doubtful, Lars.” She giggled. “I thought you knew?”
“Definitely would have remembered if you were into Katie.”
I kept it in close. I knew making a big deal about it wasn’t great. She was who she was. If she were chill about this, I’d follow her lead.
“My Dad told me she’s not good enough for me. That’s why I didn’t want him to know.”
“What? Why? She’s great. Clever, sweet, pretty—a catch,” Rose said. “Best of all, you like her.”
Jack flushed. “I do. A lot. No. Her family is ‘new money’, and he has opinions . Americans, you know? Less-than-ideal.”
Rose snickered. “Yes.”
I hoped Jacqueline’s rant didn’t offend my half-American not-girlfriend. Her reaction suggested it was fine.
Jack focused on Katie, who stood near the club dining entrance.
“Do I… look okay?” Jack fidgeted with her handbag.
“You look great,” Rose said.
Jack trotted to her friend.
“Let me deal with the ma?tre d’,” Rose said. “They’re adorable. I want this to be fun for them.”
Rose was right to this point. I loved how hard she tried and took such a genuine interest. I didn’t fight her.
Rose approached the host’s stand. “Hi. So, we have two teens with us—our niece and her friend. We’re so mortifying, you know? Is there a way we can be seated near them but not with them? Miss Sardani just won the junior’s race.”
She said it all in the sweetest, most proper way.
“We will see what we can do,” he assured.
I looked over my shoulder at Katie and Jack. The awkward, adorable way they spoke too close told me everything I needed to know. I couldn’t break their hearts. Rose was right. This was good for them. I needed to, as Betty said, “stan” them. The host arrived.
“We have one table for four or one for two. Not two. I do apologise, miss…”
“Ferguson,” she said. “Lady Rose Ferguson. My father is the Duke of Lauderdale.”
She tried everything.
“And… and my boyfriend is Prince Lars of Norway.”
It was awkward but well-intentioned. I nodded awkwardly, wanting to climb into a hole. I hated acknowledging my title publicly—especially around Americans who always made a massive deal out of it.
“Apologies, Lady Ferguson. I am… I will try to find a solution.”
He went away. I whispered, “You don’t?—”
“I am making this happen for them. I cannot break their hearts.”
“They are babies. They will have other love stories, Rosalind.”
“Yes, but I cannot kick a good love story, Lars. It’s the one thing that makes us most human. And they’re such sweet girls.”
She sighed. “I want this for them. Seeing at least one couple come out of this with butterflies will make me happy.”
I smiled, happy for them. They held hands. I sensed Katie already knew Jacqueline was all in. Then again, maybe she was nervous like me and was unsure if she crossed that line. Flirtation—something Americans and Brits did like it was second nature—seemed painful and awkward to me.
“They’re better at this than I am,” I admitted.
“They’re fucking adorbs. Young love. It makes me feel whole to see them happy. You did a good thing, Lars.”
Without thinking, I rubbed Rose’s back. “It was your idea.”
Rose gazed up in this sweet, innocent way I hadn’t seen before. She was kind to a fault and trusting. It wasn’t the lusty gaze I’d spotted the day before—I’d like that, too. This appeared genuine and of actual interest. Rose liked me, didn’t she? I gave her a hearty smile.
“Uh-huh. Yep, it’s nothing.”
I saw Rose’s oldest brother, Mac, standing with his wife, Mary.
“What?” Rose asked.
“This,” he pointed between us. “Since when do you go on dates with someone and gaze into their eyes without it being a thing?”
“We’re here with the kids. We’re chaperoning ,” Rose protested. “It’s all very innocent. Promise.”
This was totally why my hand now rested on Rose’s lower back, and my thumb could have copped a feel if it wanted to.
Mac shot me an annoyed look. I couldn’t drop my hand without drawing even more attention to the situation.
“Ma’am, we really are full of bookings,” the host said, concerned.
I had an idea—one to keep all of us looking above board.
“Is the four-top still available?” I asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“And the two?”
“Yes.”
“Can the four of us take the four top and sit the kids at the two top?”
“Of course, sir.”
“Great,” I said.
As I turned back to Rose, I expected an appreciative grin. Instead, I got a faux smile that indicated I’d somehow fucked up. What did I do?