Chapter 14. Oh, the Places You’ll Never See!
Oh, the Places You’ll Never See!
I would never admit to it, but seeing that had made me envious.
I’d seen that kind of love in my grandparents—the kind that looked like true love—but I had never shared that kind of all-encompassing love with anyone, and it was something I probably would never experience in my life.
Nobody, not even Leo, had ever looked at me the way my grandparents looked at each other, like the sun and the moon and the stars hung in each other’s eyes.
Like their world started and ended with the other person.
I’d never know how it would feel to be so deeply in love with someone, to trust them, and to be happy and secure in the knowledge that they would be there for you through thick and thin, for better or for worse.
Knowing that whatever you did, you were safe, because someone else would always be there for you.
“I can still smell you from where I’m sitting.”
I turned to Rob, who was watching the conga line as he sipped his gin and tonic. “I thought you said I smelled good.”
“I said you smelled fine, and that was a few hours ago, when the chocolate was still fresh. Now you just smell like stale cupcakes.” Rob loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves, exposing forearms that rendered me slightly mesmerized for a few seconds. “How’s your grandpa doing?”
“He’s good.” I averted my eyes from his forearms. “Enjoying a night of card games and C-drama reruns with his friends, as we speak.”
Rob was quiet for a few minutes as he picked up his glass and swirled the liquid around. “How did your grandparents come to raise you? You said you’d tell me the story of your parents some other time. Is this a good time?”
“I guess so.” My eyes drifted to watch the conga line, which seemed to have gotten longer in just a few short minutes.
“My mom died when I was a baby, and my dad decided that he didn’t have it in him to raise a young child on his own.
He left to pursue his career, so my grandparents raised me instead. ”
“I’m sorry.” Rob looked disturbed. “Where’s your dad now? Do you talk to him at all?”
“Every now and then.” I shrugged, trying not to sound like it bothered me, because it didn’t. “He’s based overseas for his job, so he comes home maybe once, twice a year.”
A sad look crossed his features. “I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for you.”
I waved a dismissive hand, because I didn’t want, or need, his sympathy.
“It never felt hard, because I never knew anything else. My grandparents are all I’ve ever known, and I’m just grateful to have them in my life, because if it weren’t for them, who knows where I’d be right now.
There’s no point wasting my time being upset about my dad, or resenting him, because how can you resent someone you don’t even know, right? ”
It was what I’d told myself over and over again, but that wasn’t the entire truth, because even though I had come to accept that my father was never around, I did resent him for not making more of an effort to be present in my life.
Fine, so maybe he wasn’t mentally and physically able to care for a young child while coping with the grief of losing his wife and juggling his super-important job.
But that was thirty years ago. How hard would it be to reach out to his one and only adult daughter now, say, once a month, at the very minimum? Was that too much to ask?
Maybe that was another reason I couldn’t trust men and relationships. How could I, when the very first one I was supposed to have with my own father didn’t even work out?
But yeah, I had accepted the fact that there was nothing I could do about it. My life could have gone in a totally different, much worse direction, so instead of being angry and bitter about how things could have been, I chose to be grateful for it.
“You’re a bigger person than I am,” Rob said. “I probably would never be able to forgive my parents if they’d done that to me.” His expression hardened. “I don’t want to judge, because I’m sure your dad had gone through a lot, but I don’t know how anyone could have done that to their own child.”
My smile was thin. “I’ve stopped wondering about that ages ago.” I signaled to the bartender behind us for another glass of wine. “Have you thought about your father’s request?”
“I told him I’d try working in his office one or two days a week, as a trial run to see if it was a good fit. Then I’ll think about going back to finish my degree.”
“What did he say?” I thanked the bartender as he placed a fresh glass in front of me.
“He wasn’t happy, because he doesn’t like taking no for an answer. Wanted me to come in full-time immediately.” His smile was dull. “We haven’t come to an agreement yet. How’s the store? Did you get in touch with that knitting influencer you told me about?”
“No. I’ve tried to reach out, but none of her people responded to my emails. Her last public appearance was two years ago, and I heard she doesn’t do in-person events anymore now, unless it’s someone she personally knows.”
“Let me ask around. Maybe someone I know would know someone who knows her.”
The conga line was now gone, replaced by people dancing the macarena. Neil Cosgrave was in the group, laughing with a few other guests, looking like he was having the time of his life. Like he was genuinely enjoying other people’s company, and vice versa.
That was a good sign, right?
“He’s a nice guy.” Rob followed my gaze. “Thank you for trusting me to do this for you. I know it couldn’t have been easy, but I think you’re very brave for doing this and putting yourself out there.”
“You’re getting too far ahead of yourself. I never said I trusted you.”
“You don’t?” He tilted his head at me. “You wound me.”
“I haven’t decided.” I bit back a smile.
“Anything I can do to help you decide?”
“If I’m going to trust you, it has to happen organically.”
“That’s fair.” He nodded. “Trust can’t be given; it has to be earned.”
“Exactly. Maybe you can start by telling me things about yourself. You know more about me than I do about you, so we need to level the playing field.”
“Sure. What do you want to know?”
“Why don’t you answer the questions you gave me in your questionnaire?” I folded my hands in front of my chest. “Let’s see. What is the one thing that’s most important in your life?”
His answer was quick. “Easy. Being with my loved ones.”
“What were some of your other questions? Oh, describe to me your ideal partner.”
“I know you said the ideal man doesn’t exist, but I think the ideal woman does exist. She wouldn’t be ideal for everyone, but she would be for me.
Someone with a zest for life, someone funny, loyal, and smart, and has similar values to me.
” He gave me a faint smile. “Someone who puts their family above everything else.”
Was I being delusional if I thought he was describing me? Or was it wishful thinking? “Okay.” I cleared my throat. “What about hobbies? What do you do in your spare time, other than setting people up and going to weddings?”
“It used to be sports when I was younger. Basketball, football, tennis, hockey. Anything that would keep me out of trouble.”
“That shows.” I made a vague gesture at his physique. “I mean, I can tell. You’ve, uh, obviously kept it up. Anyway, final question. Give me five fun facts about yourself.”
He ticked off his fingers. “One, I’m addicted to coffee.
At least four cups a day. Two, I love watching stand-up comedians, because they always cheer me up after a long day.
Three, I played drums in high school, because I wanted to impress this girl I had a huge crush on.
Four, I think pineapple on pizza is one of the most genius food inventions ever, and yes, I know that’s controversial.
And last one”—he leaned closer, his voice a low rumble in my ear—“I have five tattoos, and no, you can’t see them, because they’re in places you cannot see. ”
I couldn’t care less about coffee, or pineapple, or pizza, or food in general, because all I could focus on was how he was so close and how it was giving me warm, tingly feelings all over my body, along with full-blown permission for my brain to go rogue and imagine the (oh so many) possible locations of the tattoos that I would never see in my entire life.
What the hell did “places I cannot see” exactly mean?
He gave me a wide, innocent grin, and for a moment, all I could do was stare at his eyes, back to the puzzle of figuring out the shade of yarn of those hazel eyes.
Lemon Myrtle? Or Dark Lime?
I snapped myself back to the present and narrowed my eyes at him. “Okay, you really got me thinking with that”—I made air quotes with my hands—“‘places you cannot see’ line. I mean, that was really good. Maybe I’ll steal that and use it on my date with Neil.”
“Got you thinking, huh?”
“Only for, like, two seconds.” More than two minutes, and still going.
“Good.” His grin was teasing, like it was holding secrets that I would never be privy to, and I was suddenly, irrationally, jealous of whoever he had privately shared those secrets with.
“But seriously, when you go on that date with Neil, make sure you unleash all your wit and charm. Go ahead and steal my line, as long as you make him fall head over heels in love with you, because you deserve your happy ending.”
His eyes drifted across the room, and an affectionate smile lifted the corners of his mouth as his gaze snagged on someone across the room. The brunette that he was talking to earlier—his ex—lifted her glass at him in salute.
I knew I should probably ask how things went with her, but I had a weird feeling that I wouldn’t like his answer.
And so, as the night went on, instead of thinking about Neil, my mind kept wandering to someone else.
Someone I knew I shouldn’t be thinking about, because I knew it would only lead to heartbreak.
Someone who was my polar opposite, who wanted love and happy endings, while I didn’t believe in one.
And I didn’t know if I could trust anyone enough to even consider thinking about it. Not even if it was him.
Because I knew relationships weren’t made to last.
At least, not for me.