Ollie laughs. “He can’t have messed it up that quickly, can he?”
“Well,” Liam says with a shrug, “he hasn’t dated in a long time. He must be out of practice.”
“You two shut up,” I say, pointing the whisk at them. “And set the table.”
They disappear, still laughing. I keep stirring the eggs, wondering if they might actually be right.
Maybe I did do something wrong today.
Maybe I did something that made Antonia uncomfortable.
Last night at the restaurant, when we met, things had been awkward to start with, but once we moved past the business talk and started discovering each other, everything shifted.
I got to know her. Saw her beyond the CEO with a spine of steel who runs boardrooms like battlefields. Beyond the woman who randomly wears pink wellies when you least expect it.
I got to see her.
And what I saw, I really liked.
And what I tasted of her… I liked even more.
Maybe I should reach out. Speak to her away from work. But she said it wasn’t the time or the place. Then again, we’re not in that time or place anymore.
It’s two hours later. I’m at home. And I assume she’s at her place.
Although I suspect she spends more time at the office than she lets on. Every time I’m there, I notice that sofa bed. The crushed cushion. The sheet that peeks out from underneath.
She probably thinks I haven’t seen it. But I have. And the only reason to keep a sofa bed in your office is if you sleep there. The only reason to sleep in your office is if you’ve got nothing waiting for you at home.
I think of Christmas Day, when I saw her in the graveyard beside her son’s grave.
Me beside my wife’s. But I have my son. I can hold him, laugh with him, still find something good in the day. I suspect Antonia doesn’t have that.
That cuts deeper than I want to admit.
***
We sit down to eat. Liam tops off the waters while Ollie sits down and immediately shovels scrambled egg and toast into his mouth like he hasn’t eaten all day. Which, knowing him, he might not have—especially if his brother hasn’t fed him. It wouldn’t be the first time.
The conversation drifts across the usual things: school, tests, what’s happened during the day.
Halfway through dinner, my phone rings.Savannah.
I ignore it.
Right now I’m having dinner with her brothers. I’ll catch up with her later. I send a quick message to say I’ll call her back soon.
Part of me hoped it was Antonia calling. That she wanted to talk. Deal with the issue we had.
Liam clears his throat. “So, Dad,” he says, “are you going to see Antonia again?”
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
“But you said yesterday went so well.”
“Things aren’t always that clear-cut.” I aim for relaxed but come across as defensive.
He nods, half accepting the answer, half already losing interest as he goes back to his food.