Sadie
“So, Sarah—” Jamison’s mom, Sally, began, but I interrupted her.
“Yes, of course.” She smiled an apology. Her shoulders crept toward her ears, and a pink warmed the balls of her cheeks. “I will remember, eventually. Please, don’t give up on me.”
“It’s okay. What were you going to say?” I tugged the strap of my lace top back up on my shoulder.
Next to me, my dad turned his menu toward my mom on his other side to ask her if he liked scallions.
“It’s scallops you don’t like,” she answered.
“That’s right.” He went back to reading every dinner option, again.
A salty breeze blew off the ocean, sweeping my hair across my face and the hem of my skirt against my thighs under the table.
The patio was busy with waitstaff weaving between tables and the gas fire pits around the edge of the seating.
I was the last to arrive in our party and placed directly across from Jamison.
Which was fine, because I was handling him the same way I liked to handle all my dirty laundry—ignoring it.
Flicking her hand, Sally shook her head. “Never mind, you probably already told me.”
“No, it’s fine.” I leaned my chin in my fist and gave her my undivided attention, not even sparing an ounce for the nervous tap-tap of Jamison’s index finger on the tabletop.
The glow from the fire burning a few feet away set him in stark contrasts, all warm tones along his nose, high cheekbones and jaw.
Shadows drew the other half of his face in darkness.
It was truly annoying how romantic he looked, with his hair tousled across his forehead and his navy button-up shirt tucked into gray slacks.
The crease from his hip to his ankle went on for just under an eternity.
He would have been too sexy for me to even handle, if not for the fact that I’d seen that shirt before.
He’d worn it the last time we’d “hung out,” and he had made it excessively clear that he was not into me.
A fresh wave of embarrassment crashed in my stomach, remembering how I’d opened up only to be shut down.
“I was just wondering what you do for work,” Sally said folding her hands in her lap.
Jamison’s eyes snapped my way, boring holes through me. I refused to be unsettled by him.
“I’m a business administrator,” I stated.
His eyes narrowed, and it was everything in me not to glare back.
“You know,” Sally began. “I’ve always hated that job title. But then, I guess, it’s hard to fit, ‘Without me this place falls apart,’ on a business card.”
For the first time that night, a genuine smile spread across my face. One that didn’t hold a strained tightness around the corners. One that actually fit all the way up to my eyes.
“I leave detailed notes when I go away, so they’ll make it for a little while.”
He made a hmm sound, and I had to fight for my life not to roll my eyes. His very existence was irritating.
“Sade,” June called from the other side of the table. “I can’t decide between the short rib and the shrimp linguine. Will you get one, and I’ll get the other, so we can share?”
“I’m getting the salmon.”
“Sadie,” she whined.
“I’m getting the salmon,” I repeated, this time more forcefully.
Her fiancé, Mike, put his arm around the back of her chair. “Just get ’em both, babe. We’ll reheat the leftovers for lunch tomorrow.”
She bounced a little in her seat, satisfied. “Okay.”
Affection warmed in my chest for my future bother-in-law. The way they balanced each other gave me hope for something I had never experienced—someone who really, truly loved me. Someone who wouldn’t think I was interchangeable.
Now that I knew he was Jamison’s little brother, I could see the similarities.
Their dry sense of humor, their height, and the deep-set of their eyes.
But where Mike had a warmth and friendliness that pulled every stranger toward him, Jamison was rigid and straight backed.
He had a knack for being too abrupt and setting people on edge.
Not me, though.
Before our last encounter, I might not have been special to him, but he was at least nice to me.
“And where do you live?” Sally asked, pulling me back to our conversation.
“Chicago.”
She gasped and slapped Jamison on the arm. “Gene just bought a condo there!”
My eyebrows shot for my forehead. “Oh, Gene, did you really?”
“Buying,” he corrected, his voice a little raspy. Definitely ringing a bit irritated. “The deals not done, yet.”
“He’s an environmental lawyer, and he’s been working between Lansing up in Michigan and Chicago, and it’s just hard to establish a life when you’re between two places.
” Sally gestured with her hands as she spoke, her eyes bright as if she’d just solved an important issue.
To Jamison, she asked, “How wonderful is this? You two can spend time together when you go back to the city.”
I shrugged a bare shoulder. “Well, if Gene has been spending time in Chicago, I’m sure he has his people and places there. I don’t know if I could show him any more than he already knows.”
“Oh, please, you love bragging about your secret corners all over the city,” June scoffed. “Actually, Gene, she works in environmental conservation as well. She works for, like, a water preservation company.”
“Do you really,” he remarked, and it seemed that only I caught his sarcasm.
Sally’s eyes widened. “Well, isn’t that ironic! That’s exactly what Gene does.”
“The coincidence is almost unbelievable,” he agreed.
His smug expression was doing wonders to counteract any attraction I’d felt for him—which wasn’t much—since arriving to dinner.
“I don’t know if I believe it myself, Gene.” My pleasant expression was stuck on my face, but my eyes shot daggers at Jamison.
“Why are you saying his name like that?” Mom asked.
I let out a slow breath. If everything blew up in my face because I couldn’t pretend that he was a stranger well enough, I’d never forgive myself. And he’d never let me live it down.
Leaning forward, June nodded at her. “I thought she was saying it weird too.”
Dad shrugged. “It is his name.”
“Seems like a little extra push,” June explained.
“Yeah, a little more emphasis,” Mom agreed.
“I don’t know.” Grabbing my glass of wine, I lifted it a few inches from my lips. “So, what’s on your schedule tomorrow, Peanut?”
June opened her mouth, but Sally interrupted, “Oh my goodness! ‘Peanut’ is the cutest nickname!”
Rolling her eyes, June said, “It’s less cute when you find out she’s allergic to peanuts.”
Everyone laughed, and my mom started telling how I began calling June “Peanut” when I was diagnosed with an allergy at thirteen to convince them to “rehome” June when she was ten.
But Jamison’s eyes had gone wide and stricken. “You don’t think you should have said something?”
Mike’s eyebrows pinched together considering his brother.
“It’s not a big deal. It’s mild. It’s not like I’ll die, I just don’t feel great.”
Jamison leaned forward, placing his fists on the table. “Can a nut allergy even be mild?”
I glanced around the table, Mike looked a little embarrassed, but everyone else just looked confused. “Mine is. I just get itchy.”
“I eat peanut butter every day.”
“Well, as long as I don’t eat it, I’ll be fine.”
I’d seen this side of him before. It was the version most everyone else experienced, with his intense stare and biting tone, but I was not used to being on the receiving end.
The response he was bringing out of me was .
. . confusing. I didn’t even want to admit to myself that I kinda, possibly, didn’t hate it.
But also, I had a very real desire to push back and be a little shitty.
Sitting back in his chair, he brushed his fingers over his lips. “Got it.”
Judging by the scowl he directed my way, he had a lot more he wanted to say.
You and me both, asshole.
June cleared her throat, reminding me that other people were with us.
“Um, so tomorrow,” she began, “Mike and I are finalizing details with the wedding coordinator. I was hoping you all could help show people around as they trickle in. Most of wedding guests are staying at hotels nearby, but they may want to come and see the place.”
“Sure.” I shrugged. I’d planned a chill day of laying on the beach or maybe going for a hike. It wouldn’t be a big deal to greet their friends and our family.
“Oh, and your dance lesson,” Mike said, as the waiter placed our appetizers in the middle of the table.
I blinked. “Dance lesson?”
“Didn’t we tell you?” June asked.
“Yeah, we thought it’d be a good way for you and Gene to get a chance to know each other and hopefully be more comfortable during the wedding party dance.”
Jamison’s eyebrows were higher on his forehead than I thought I had ever seen them. “I have a dance lesson tomorrow?”
“It’s only like forty-five minutes, we figured you wouldn’t mind.” Gesturing toward me, June added, “I mean, seriously, look how pretty your partner is.”
My cheeks burned instantly, and I hoped no one could see me blush in the dark lighting. I was going to kill June. She didn’t have to be so embarrassing.
Just when I thought the silence was going to swallow me whole, Jamison rumbled, “Good point.”