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“No. I’m not going back to him. I’m fine.”
“You’re delusional Zane if you think this will work. Suppose she only ever wants to be friends with you even if she did get divorced?”
“She won’t. I know she wants me.”
“I’m done with this conversation. Good luck waiting.”
“Come on, Luc. I need your support.”
“I can’t give it to you because I’m afraid for your sanity.”
Lucian leaves my office, and I wonder if he’s right. Suppose Lana only wants to be friends with me for the rest of our lives. Will that mean I’m destined to be alone? I don’t want to consider it.
It’s Wednesday, and I’ve been resisting the urge to contact Lana. I haven’t seen her since Sunday, and I desperately want to spend some time with her. I thought maybe we could go for a quick drink somewhere, maybe Clancy’s if she’s up for that. By 4:30, I can’t stop myself, and I text her.
Are you up for a drink tonight after I get out of work?
I’d love to. Declan flew to Miami this afternoon and won’t be back until Saturday. I’m bored.
You should have texted me. Would you be up for dinner also then?
Sure. I have nothing to do. I had a dress fitting today, and now I’m deciding on invitations.
Seriously, I don’t want to hear about her wedding plans. It takes me back to when we were planning our wedding. I had very little input, but invitations I did help make the decision. It was the one activity where we sat together, stuffed and sealed the envelopes, and put labels on.
When Lana left me, I had to contact everyone on my side to say the wedding was off. It was horrible though I did have some respite since Paige helped me. Still, it’s not something I want to bring up in to present memory. It’s just too painful.
Have fun with that. Do you want to meet me at Molly McGiven’s at 5:30?
Yes. I’ll see you there. XOXO
Oh God, she didn’t just give me hugs and kisses. I wish it were the real thing. At least tonight, I can pretend that we are still a couple even though I can’t touch or kiss her the way I want.
I go into my private bathroom to get ready. I keep a toothbrush, cologne and some pomade in there, which I use all three. I look good and smooth the wrinkles out of my slacks. Lucian has been on my ass to stop dressing so business-like. Most of the employees here wear jeans unless I give them prior notice that we have a visitor coming.
I let the programming department wear what they like. The creative types love to dress in t-shirts with characters on the front. My only dress code requirement is that nothing is torn or overly provocative.
At exactly 5:10, I pull on my jacket and shut down my laptop. I want to get to the restaurant before Lana does. It occurs to me that I don’t even know where she and Declan live. They couldn’t have moved into an apartment, yet since last I heard, they were still searching for a place. They must be living at one of the hotels.
Molly McGiven’s is one of my favorite steakhouses. I’ve been eating here for years. I greet the hostess, Chrissy, by name, and she takes me to a booth in the back. It’s quieter here, and I prefer the privacy that it provides. The waitress approaches, and I tell her my companion is not here yet, but I order a scotch while I wait.
I’m engrossed in some email messages when Lana is brought to the table. I almost drop my phone because she looks good enough to eat even in her plain dress of tight navy designer jeans and a pretty light blue v-neck sweater. Her hair is in a thick braid, and it makes my dick twitch to see her elegant neck exposed.
“Lana, you look lovely,” I say as I get up to greet her. She plants a soft kiss on my cheek, and I want more, so much more, but I pull away.
“You look handsome as always. Thank you for inviting me to dinner.”
“I wasn’t sure what to do for dinner, so I might have ended up here anyway.”
“You eat here by yourself?”
“Sure. I usually bring some paperwork from the office or the newspaper. It’s not so bad eating alone.”
I see a look of sadness in her eyes, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“You’re by yourself. I take some of the blame.”
