Chapter 6 #2
“My parents worked a lot, and I was an only child, so I spent a lot of nights having dinner by myself, and I always dreamed of having a big family that gathers around the dinner table for a chaotic, lively meal. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that some kids have enough personality for multiple children, so it’s not necessarily about quantity.
I feel like I’d have to meet each kid first to decide if we should add another one. ”
Exactly like last time, the world around them and the space between them slowly disappeared.
And then, exactly like last time, Freya Jonsson’s voice broke the spell.
Only this time, instead of a laugh, it was a yelp.
He and Naomi both turned to face the entrance just in time to see a woman topple backward to the ground, her arms swinging wildly in a pointless attempt to reclaim her lost balance.
She crashed down with a dull thud, landing fully on top of another woman, who was already halfway to the floor.
The first woman’s wide-brimmed hat flew off and rolled across the floor, coming to a wobbly stop near the base of the host stand.
It took a second for his brain to catch up with his eyes and make sense of what he saw.
There, tangled together like a strand of Christmas lights, were Freya and … Abby.
And from the look on their faces, they were both as flabbergasted to see each other as Will was.
They pushed away from each other and stood, Freya brushing out her suit as Abby placed the large hat back on her head. Large hat?
He struggled to follow what was happening while also trying to guess what had led them to whatever was happening.
What was Abby doing here? Had she been the woman in the large hat sitting at the table that Naomi had stopped to look at?
Why was Freya not waiting in the car? How had Abby managed to end up tumbling backward into Freya?
And was there any chance that they would be able to laugh this off and walk away?
“Throwing a drink on me wasn’t enough, I take it?” Freya snapped.
Will exhaled slowly. Guess not.
He sensed Naomi looking at him, and he looked back at her, not quite sure where to begin. “She was going to pick me up … I didn’t know …”
“I didn’t know either,” she said, sounding somewhere between apologetic and exasperated. “I was super nervous about our date, and I think my friends decided to drop by.”
“Friends, plural?” He glanced at the small crowd forming around Freya and Abby, who were still battling.
“Yeah. That’s Abby’s sister over there. And the really tall person is Riley.
” She pointed at someone who stood a foot above the rest of the crowd, their height made even taller by their platform shoes and the shock of pink hair pulled into a bun at the top of their head.
“I’m sorry; they’re really nice people but combined, they struggle with …
um … boundaries. It’s not always like this, though, I promise. ”
“This is about the award, isn’t it?” he heard Freya say. “You’re jealous of me, like you’ve always been.”
He’d been worried about Naomi understanding that there were some boundary issues with his work life and personal life, but it seemed like maybe she would understand better than he thought.
“I promise it’s not always like this with Freya either. I can actually do things without my boss. And when she does show up, it’s never like … this.”
“Me? Jealous of you?” Abby said, her volume matching Freya’s.
He stood up. Last time, the only thing that had separated Freya and Abby had been Naomi physically separating them. He got the sense that a similar intervention was going to be needed. “We’d better … before …”
Naomi nodded, pushed her chair back, and then hurried towards the two women.
“It’s so obvious, Abby,” Freya said, letting out a sharp laugh. “It always has been.”
“Obvious to who?” Abby gestured out to what she probably thought was an empty space. But as her eyes followed her arm, it was clear that she—and then Freya—noticed their spectators. Both women took a sheepish step back.
Before he could move in, the person Naomi had identified as Riley walked up to Freya and held out a hand.
“Ms. Jonsson, it’s a real pleasure to meet you.
I’m Riley Tahara. They/them pronouns. I’ve always been a fan of your work.
Real hard-hitting. Have you ever considered doing a piece on up-and-coming designers?
It can be a real rollercoaster ride of emotions, you know.
I think it would appeal to a wide audience.
And if you’re looking for someone, I happen to know a charming young person.
” Will wasn’t entirely sure if Riley was trying to create a distraction to break the tension or to shoot their shot. Perhaps a little of both.
Freya gave Riley a firm handshake accompanied by a big nothing-to-look-at-here smile. “Thank you—Riley, was it? I’ll certainly consider it.” She released Riley’s hand and looked at Will. “I came in here to let you know we’re late.”
“It’s past seven already?” Will asked in disbelief. That explained why she was in the restaurant, but had the hour really flown by that quickly?
“7:09.”
“Dammit—security won’t let us in to see the prime minister if we’re late. I’m sorry; I completely lost track of time. I’m ready to go, though.” Will turned to Naomi. “I’m sorry I can’t stay longer, it’s just—”
“The prime minister, I know,” she said.
Nothing about his time with Naomi had gone as planned. Not meeting her at the reunion, not her date-crashing friends, not whatever chaos was brewing between Freya and Abby.
But he knew without a doubt that it didn’t matter.
He leaned in close and whispered, “I had a really great time tonight.. I hope I can see you again. Soon.”
Having his lips mere centimeters from her neck made time slow down, even as his pulse quickened. The heat of her skin, the faint, citrusy scent of her perfume—it pulled him in. He wanted to close the distance, to kiss the soft, golden skin and follow the curve of her jaw to her mouth.
Instead, he kissed her cheek. The sensation lingered on his lips as he stepped back. And then, like yanking himself from a current, he turned and walked away.
Freya followed him outside, her heels clacking aggressively against the sidewalk. As she reached his side, he glanced at her, curious if he should say anything.
She answered his silent question by raising a finger. “Not a word.”