Now #3
“Of course I do.”
She looks at the ornate ceiling briefly. “There wasn’t even two thousand dollars in that bundle, Jackson. You’re blowing this way out of proportion.”
“You gave me so much more than that. I owe you everything, Evie. Everything. I wouldn’t have made it without you. You were there, day after day, when it was the hardest, when no one else was supporting me. You gave me a chance before anyone else. And for that, I owe you a lot more than a house.”
My words seem to affect her, doubt flashing before her eyes as she remains silent, digesting what I just said. Whatever she might have answered is robbed from me by Nathan’s return.
“So, do we know what we’re splitting, honey?” he asks as he sits back down.
Only then does she rip her gaze away from mine to offer him a small grin. “If you really want the lamb, you can have it. I’ll let you try whatever I order.”
“Really?”
“Of course.”
He seems satisfied with that decision as he takes a sip of wine. “Oh, that’s delicious. So, Jackson, you were about to tell me what it’s like to be the world’s greatest driver.”
“That might be a little much.”
“So you’re suddenly humble?” Evie interrupts. “Three years of winning the championship in a row. Four in total. And with a very young team. You are the best driver in the world.”
Hearing it from her has me smiling like an idiot. “If you say so …” I turn to her fiancé and say, “It’s a lot of pressure. A lot of jetlag. And a fuckton of sponsor work.”
“And a lot of women too, right?” Evie gives him a slight jab with her elbow. “What? We’ve all seen the pictures with the models, actresses, singers … You’re a busy man.”
I don’t feel comfortable discussing all that, especially not in front of Evie, so I dismissively say, “Honestly, I’ve come to realize that none of that really matters without the right person to share it with.”
“It’ll come, buddy, don’t worry. I, myself, almost lost faith in love, but then I met this woman right here.”
“When did you two meet?” I ask, wondering why I’m doing this to myself.
“Two and a half years ago. Then we dated for two years, and I realized I wanted to marry her. And here we are now.”
Two years. It took this fucking tool two years to know. “That’s interesting …” I can’t help but say.
“Why?”
“I realized I’d marry her the first time we met. Well, the second time, really. I was a little busy the first time.”
Evie’s gaze remains on the discarded menu before her, brows twisted with conflicted thoughts.
Nathan laughs at my admission, like it’s a joke, and says, “Teenage hormones are wild, aren’t they? I remember my first girlfriend. I thought she was the love of my life, too. But boy, was I wrong.”
I can guess that he lays a hand on Evie’s thigh, under the table, and I have to physically restrain myself from reaching over to rip it off before breaking it.
Instead, I empty my glass and pour myself another one. I’m done by the time the waiter hurriedly approaches to do it himself, so he takes our orders instead.
“Where did you meet?” I ask once he’s gone again.
“The Halloween party at our office building. We work for different companies on different floors, but I already had my eye on her. She was dressed as Uma Thurman in that movie, you know … Pulp Fiction.”
“She was?”
“Yes, she looked great. She had a fake syringe sticking out of her chest and everything.”
“It’s a very simple costume to whip up,” Evie explains. “And I had that hairstyle back then, so I thought, why not?”
She squirms in her chair, and while Nathan has no idea what’s happening to her, or even notices her discomfort, I do. A few months into our relationship, I took her on a movie date, and we watched a rerun of Pulp Fiction.
We sat all the way up in the back of that old screening room, and I’m surprised she remembers anything about the movie. I kept her focused on me nearly the entire time. To this day, I still can’t hear the music they dance to without getting a raging erection.
When our eyes meet again, I know she’s thinking about the same thing.
A little too hard, she slams her napkin on the table and says, “I need to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”
She gives Nathan a peck, which looks more like a reminder for me than an actual act of tenderness, and gives me one last glance before standing up. I watch as she makes her way through the busy restaurant, her figure a perfect ode to female beauty.
My phone buzzes in my chest pocket, like fucking providence, and when I check the notification, I see it’s some random news about the race in Suzuka next week. “Sorry, I have to take care of this,” I lie to Nathan. “It’s one of my sponsors.”
“Oh, of course, no worries.”
I nod and extract myself from my side of the table. Once I’ve made sure Nathan isn’t paying me any mind, I walk the same path Evie did. It leads me to the hallway where the bathrooms are located.
This whole dinner is bullshit, and I’m not letting her leave without admitting it.
I’m done fucking waiting for her to open her eyes. I’ve waited seven fucking years. It’s enough.