Chapter 20 – Dean
I sent my dad a text halfway through dinner, asking him to do two things. One, to dance with Grace after dinner, and two, at some point, to ask Blaire to dance so we could switch partners.
He gave me a double thumbs up in response, and I put my phone away just in time, as Blaire leaned over me, wanting me to taste her swordfish.
Bless Mom’s heart, she had attempted to run defense all through dinner, asking Blaire questions and connecting her with other people at our table. But Blaire, even when she was debating the ethics of attorney/client privilege with another lawyer, continued to find ways to touch me. A lingering hand on my knee when she leaned over to hear, or a touch of my arm to get my attention. Even if Grace had not been forefront in my mind, the purposeful orchestration of it bothered me quite a bit.
I had done the same thing to Grace while we looked over contracts, and if I had made her feel even a fraction of the discomfort I was feeling now, I needed to apologize for it. There was flirting, and then there was testing limits .
I declined tasting Blaire’s swordfish and focused on my own food, grilled chicken with a spicy pomegranate drizzle. But being bad company didn’t come naturally to me, and it didn’t seem like it was helping. Blaire wasn’t concerned with whether I was quiet or outgoing, just my bank account and my looks.
I struck up a conversation with the man to the right of me, listening while he explained that a few years ago he decided to day-trade inside his Roth Individual Retirement Account. Then his wife chimed in with her take on it and how he’d brought her around to the idea, and the next thing I knew, it was time for dessert and couples were starting to take to the dance floor.
“What do you say we order two different desserts and split them?” Blaire asked me, nodding her chin towards the waiter headed to our table.
“I’m fine with that.”
After we ordered, she joined in the conversation with the couple next to me. Blaire explained some of the side hustles she’d tried during law school, including day trading, and I realized what a shame it was that she and I couldn’t be friends. She was brilliant and witty, and yet about every minute or so, I’d catch her watching me carefully to see if I’d noticed how brilliant and witty she was. Maybe Grace had ruined me for take-charge women. I used to like it when relationships fell into my lap. Now, it seemed, I only had a thing for the grumpy, standoffish types. I smiled to myself.
“What’s that about?” Blaire asked, her breath hitting my ear. “You’re telling yourself some secret joke. I can tell.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t give away my inner thoughts.”
“Not even for me?” Her look turned coy.
“Not even for you.” I reached over with my spoon and took a small sample of her vanilla bean panna cotta. Cold and creamy. But just okay. I returned to my chocolate mousse mud cake, which Blaire had tried a moment ago and declared too sweet for her taste. I was happy to see Grace devouring her slice of chocolate mousse mud cake at a table three over from ours. She hadn’t looked my way once .
I waited until Henry and Grace were on the dance floor before I asked Blaire to dance. Her face lit up, which made me realize she’d maybe started to catch on to my disinterest, and I’d just renewed her hope.
The orchestra ensemble, which had been playing all through dinner, left halfway through dessert to make way for a band playing high-energy covers. I laughed at my dad’s attempt to keep up with Grace. He was no dancer, but it was clear they were having fun.
I took Blaire’s hand and led her out to the floor. Blaire gave me a sultry look and began dancing right up in my space with some swaying that would put the palm trees in Florida to shame. I lightly dodged before her elbow could connect with my ear. When she glanced back at me, I smiled, assuring her this was super fun and I was loving it. I put my bob to the beat on automatic and glanced back at Grace and Henry. As usual, Grace was completely oblivious to me or anyone else looking her way. My smile turned genuine, watching her bust a move as much as her mermaid-style dress would let her. No one could accuse her of elbow assault, because she commanded her space. During the final notes of the song, I leaned into Blaire so she could hear me.
“Wanna take a break?”
“No way. I’m having so much fun!”
Charlie passed by on his way off the dance floor and wiggled his eyebrows at me, having overheard. I reached out as if to grab him as my replacement, and he laughed and backed out of reach. “Have so much fun, you two! We need to catch up soon, Dean. I’m heading to meet up with Olivia. The idiot she was on a date with is currently giving ‘guitar lessons’ to a group of half-drunk women. So, she’s out.”
“Take care of her.”
“Always. You take good care of Blaire, you lucky man.”
Blaire giggled and gave me a side hug.
I glared at his retreating smug face, making him that much more pleased with himself .
A new song started up with an electronica vibe, and Blaire and I danced to that, and then the lead singer announced it was time to slow things down. The band started up the introductory notes of Sinatra’s “The Way You Look Tonight,” and Blaire smiled and put her arms around my neck, pressing her body flush against mine. I let out a resigned sigh and lightly put my hands to her back. This time, when I looked across the dance floor, I met Grace’s grumpy gaze. She’d picked the perfect moment to finally notice me.
I planned for everything, and I prided myself on being able to pivot at a moment’s notice. But I was at a loss for what to do. Short of prying Blaire’s hands off of me, I was stuck, held hostage in the arms of my date. My head hurt, my tuxedo felt tight, Blaire’s hands cradling the back of my neck felt even tighter, and her leg was pressed against me like this slow dance was a tango. Not to mention, her perfume was burning my eyes.
Grace’s lowered eyebrows seemed to be asking me why I had the audacity to keep staring straight at her while holding another woman against my chest, and I mouthed, “Help me.”
“What?” she mouthed back.
“Help me.”
She looked even more confused, and then she shook her head and focused on Henry, who, from the looks of it, had never stopped talking.
“Blaire, I’m not feeling well.”
“What?” she asked.
I repeated myself, and then took a step back, accidentally dragging her with me, because she hadn’t let go of my neck. I steadied her before she tumbled into me, and for the first time that night, she looked irritated.
“What’s the matter?”
“My stomach.” I was such a coward. But I was not about to tell her that she was the leading cause of claustrophobia in men, so I turned and headed off the dance floor and straight out into the foyer where a helpful attendant pointed me in the direction of the restrooms .
I took my time getting air, even stopping at the auction tables and putting my name down for four floor-level tickets to a Sun’s game. When I headed back in, Blaire was dancing with someone else, and Henry and Grace were nowhere in sight.
I pulled out my phone, which I’d kept on silent. Dad had sent me a text. Grace was ready to go. Good luck with your date.
Awesome.
I went to sit with Mom and sipped on my ice water.
“Is your stomach feeling better?” Mom asked dryly. “I haven’t heard you use that excuse since the third grade.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Blaire was snapped up soon enough. Her bottom barely touched her seat before someone came over and asked her if she’d like to dance. Will you be well enough to drive, or will I need to offer her a ride home?”
“Would you?”
Mom rolled her eyes. “I was making a joke. But yes, if you’re having that terrible of a time, go now. I’ll tell her you got violently ill. Just don’t you dare say it was the food tonight. I’ll never get invited to another thing again. You have to tell her there’s a flu bug going around at work or something.”
I kissed my mom’s cheek. “I could dance with you first.”
“Go. Go before she sees you. I’m never talking you up to any of my friends again. I had no idea she’d take every word I said about you to heart.”
“What did you say about me?”
“Go.” She made a shooing motion. “You’re no longer a wonderful son who is very good with money, and so good-natured no one would believe it, so it doesn’t bear repeating.” She gave me a wink, assuring me all was forgiven, and I hightailed it out of the ballroom, only stopping to watch when it looked like an older gentleman was heading in my mother’s direction. I was ninety percent sure she wouldn’t dance with him. Sure enough, she invited him to sit with her instead, which he did .
Mom claimed she was too set in her ways for romance. It was more like she was holding out for an ideal situation and was more than content if it never came along.
I accepted the thank-you gift bag they handed me at the door, had the valet retrieve my car, and I drove home. Since I’d never given Blaire my personal cell number, I texted Connie and let her know to send Blaire my regrets for not staying longer, and that my stomach would be all better with a little bit of rest.
Connie texted back with four words. I told you so. They were followed by three more . Good for you.
I hung up my tux and left it on the door to be taken to the dry cleaners this week, and then I took a quick shower and changed into a t-shirt and shorts. Workouts late at night didn’t do good things for my sleep schedule, but I was restless. I opted for a walk on the treadmill with a slight incline. I had installed a projector screen in front of the treadmill, and I changed it to show rolling hills and pine trees so I had something to look at while I walked. After about two miles, I breathed easier.
I’d also realized something. It felt good to rely on Mom’s forgiveness, to stretch the limits of her patience. Not because she expected me to be perfect, but because I had always expected it of myself. And that was dumb. She would always need me, but our relationship would be better if sometimes I needed her, too.
Mom didn’t believe in texting, so I called to see if she’d gotten home yet.
“Hi, Mom.”
“I’m heading to bed, Dean. But I’m glad you checked in. Blaire was very worried about you. I had to take that story I suggested about the flu going around at your work and run with it.”
“Was she okay with you being her ride home?”
“Yes. Some guy in a green tuxedo and no dress socks invited her to an afterparty, but she said she’d much rather change clothes first and have her own transportation. So, we left not too long after you did. ”
“Sorry about that.”
“Not at all. She has a vitamin concoction she swears by for warding off sickness. She took some and sent some home with me. I’m saving it for a real emergency. I have a dose for you as well.”
“That was nice of her.”
“Yes, it was. You won’t be calling her again, though, will you?”
“No.”
“Would you like the address to the afterparty? You could have a miraculous recovery.”
“That’s also a no.”
She gave me her signature sigh, the one I’d always caved to in the past. And then she laughed, ending in a little sigh. “I’ve never thought of myself as determined, but I guess I am. I’ll let this go. Goodnight, darling.”
“Goodnight, Mom.”
I shut everything down in the workout room and headed upstairs to watch a show, but my phone chimed with a text.
Grace: What happened?
Having her reach out first loosened something in my chest I hadn’t realized had been weighing on me. I sat cross-legged at the foot of my bed and quickly typed.
Dean: My answer won’t make me look good.
Grace: I’m the last person you need to impress.
Actually, she was the only person, but I was relieved to be able to tell her anyway.
Dean: I faked getting sick. You are the world’s worst lip reader .
Three little dots came and went, and then my phone lit up with an incoming call. Grace launched in with, “I’m a great lip reader. I thought you were trying to be funny.”
“In what way would that be funny?”
“I don’t know. Because she was all over you, and it would be funny to pretend you hated that.”
“I did hate it.”
“Like, all-the-way hated it? You know what? Never mind.”
“Grace, don’t you dare hang up on me.”
She sighed. “I wasn’t planning to, but now I sort of want to.”
“You’ll show me.”
Grace laughed. “I can’t help being contrary. It sneaks up on me. And I’m getting it all back with Piper.”
“No, you’re not. When you have an actual holy terror child, you’ll know. And yes, I all-the-way hated it. Blaire came on way too strong for a blind date. So, I bailed. It wasn’t my finest moment.”
“You took a blind date to a ten-thousand-a-plate dinner?”
“It was a favor to my mother.”
“Oh.”
We were both quiet for a minute. Grace was probably dwelling on how stupid rich my family was, but I couldn’t get over her need to know if I all-the-way hated having another woman draped all over me.
“Am I too touchy with you?” I asked.
“What?”
“Do I take liberties? Do I make you uncomfortable when I lean in, or when I say dumb things to make you turn red? Do I touch you too much?”