“Sorry, Holly,” Nate says dutifully.
“It's alright, really,” my mom says quietly. Thankfully, the doorbell rings and I can excuse myself. Angry as I am at Nate, I still don't like to hear his dad speak to him in such a condescending way.
I walk down the hallway to the foyer, and hear my mom and Pierce following me. I wince. I was hoping I'd get out the door without them all meeting—wishful thinking, clearly. I smile at Greg as I open the door. He's wearing a navy blazer and khakis, and looks a little nervous.
“Hey, Greg,” I greet him.
“Greg! It's so nice to meet you,” my mom says from behind me, forcing me to open the door all the way.
“Good to see you,” Pierce says, shaking his hand.
“Mr. Thornhill,” Greg replies formally. I see Nate appear in the entrance to the living room, leaning casually on the doorjamb but saying nothing. He smiles at me as I catch his eye. I frown at him and look away.
“Have her home by ten,” Pierce instructs Greg.
“Yes, sir,” Greg replies.
Pierce slaps him on the back just as I'm about to protest. “Don't worry, Greg, I'm just giving you a hard time.”
“Oh, you had me for a second there,” Greg says, exhaling in relief.
“Well, we should get going,” I cut in so that Pierce doesn't have the chance to make any more hilarious jokes. “See you later!” I call, pulling the door closed behind me. I just catch Nate's smirking expression before I shut the door.
“You alright?” Greg asks as we walk to his car.
I force a smile and nod my head. “Yes, sorry! My mind wandered for a second. So, have you ever been to this restaurant before?”
Greg chose a very nice French restaurant for our date, it's a cozy, softly lit place set in the hills of Potomac. The wait staff is clearly passionate about their food, and delighted to have a young couple on a date that they can fawn over.
“So, how is it working for your stepdad?” Greg asks with a grin.
“You know, it's not that bad. I hardly ever think twice about it, really. He's all the way at the top of the company, and I’m all the way at the bottom, so we rarely interact on a day-to-day basis.”
“Speaking of being at the bottom, Roderick called me Steven yesterday,” Greg says, referencing Pierce's business partner.
I laugh. “No! Is there even a Steven working there?”
“Nope! That's the worst part. Who knows who he was thinking of…” He shakes his head remorsefully. “How come Pierce's son isn't working at Thornhill and Co.? Didn't want to work with his dad?”
“Um, the opposite, actually. Pierce is pretty hard on Nate...I feel kind of guilty about the whole thing because I think Nate wanted the internship, and then Pierce offered it to me to punish him. I tried not to accept, but Pierce insisted, and we’d just met, you know? I didn’t want to be rude. Not to mention, my mom and Pierce haven't known each other for very long, so I was a little taken aback by how quickly they’d gotten married…” I bite my lip. “Sorry, wow. I'm rambling.”
“It's OK, I get it. My parents are divorced, too.”
“Well, mine aren't actually divorced. They weren't married in the first place,” I clarify. But Greg isn't listening—he's squinting at the entrance to the restaurant.
“Speaking of…isn't that Nate now? Did you tell him we were coming here?”
“No, what? It can't be him,” I reply, turning around to look. But sure enough, there he is, with a brunette stunner on his arm. That asshole! There’s no way this is a coincidence—he must have overheard me telling my mom that Greg was taking me here.
“Brynn!” Nate says with a smile, leading his date over as the hostess trails them. “I didn't know you guys were coming here too! Greg, right? I'm Nate.”
“Good to meet you,” Greg says, shaking his outstretched hand.
“And this is Sophie,” Nate adds, indicating his date.
“Hey,” she says, glancing up for a moment from the cellphone in her hands.
“Did you all want to sit together?” the hostess asks. “We could pull another table over.”
I could kill her.
“What do you think?” Nate asks Greg, his grin at full-wattage.
“Um, yeah, sure, why not?” Greg complies. I quickly stand and make my way over to Greg as a waiter helps the hostess pull another small table over. I'm not going to sit next to Nate and risk a repeat of that thigh-touching incident.
“I'll let you two sit next to each other,” I explain with a saccharine smile as I take a seat next to Greg.
“We just ordered so you're not too far behind,” Greg says as the hostess hands Nate and Sophie menus.