The Arrangement Anthology 2(14)

He laughs louder and actually twists in his seat. “Avery, you are a spectacular woman, but I cannot possibly imagine a world where you deliberately let your car be stolen, and then flashed traffic to jump on the back of a stranger’s bike.”

Grinning at him, I lift my water glass and take a sip before saying smugly, “I planned the whole thing. You fell into my elaborate trap.” I offer a soft, diabolical laugh and smirk at him.

Sean leans forward and takes my hands. “Do you ever wonder if you fell into mine?”

I make a face. “That wasn’t the right question, either. Ask me, Mr. Ferro.”

Sean is cradling my hands in his and staring into my eyes. My pulse races faster when he looks at me like that. He has this hypnotic stare that’s unnerving, and sexy as hell. Sean’s eyes dip to the table and then back to my face. My heart pounds harder and I can’t stop smiling. Part of me wants to squee up and down the hallway, but I need to act sane for a moment.

Sean’s lips part and I’m ready. My answer is ready. I’m so excited!

His eyes dip to the table. “Avery, I can’t ask you now.”





CHAPTER 10




I blink. “Rich boy say what?”

He pats my hands and tips his head to the side. “Stop talking like a cartoon character, and listen. I wanted things to be a certain way, at a specific time. You’ll have to wait.” He pulls his hands away and leans back in his chair.

My bottom lip curls out and I’m pouting without meaning to. “I hate waiting.”

Sean just grins in response. He doesn’t produce the ring or mention marriage. There’s no talk like before, at the beach, no nothing. He’s stern and cold again. I don’t hide my disappointment. I can’t. It feels like I’ve been sucker punched one too many times and I can no longer pretend not to care. Sean ordered before we ever sat down. It would have irritated me if he didn’t get the most delicious food I’d ever put in my mouth. Sean is presumptive and it pisses me off, because this thing with the ring and the food, it’s to show how well he knows me and how well he can control me. Yeah, I want things like that sometimes, but not now.

After dinner, I’m leaning pretty far to my right, with my elbow on the table and my hand holding up my head. Think surly teenager. It’s not pretty but after this morning, I expected more from him. Sean has issues. Every time I feel like we’re on the same page, he does something like this. I’d cry if I weren’t so pissed off.

The waiter brings out our desserts and refills my champagne glass. For a moment, I wonder if he’s going to propose during dessert like a normal guy, but Sean would never hide the ring in something. He’s too straightforward for that. Since there’s no jewelry in sight, I’m doubting that there’s going to be a proposal tonight.

I poke at my dessert, but don’t really eat it. Sean notices. “Are you finished?” He’s been watching me from the other side of the table, quieter than usual. Or maybe I’m just steaming too much to be a good date.

“Yes,” I say, pushing away the plate. The truth is I’m a little crushed and feeling the post-Christmas crash, but I didn’t get any presents. It sucks monkeys. I can’t even pretend anymore. I glance around the room and wonder if anyone else is having a crappy night. The other couples look happy, like they’re celebrating something special. This place cost a small fortune, so it’s a treat to eat here. A bunch of the patrons probably blew a week’s pay on this dinner. Except for my man, Sean. He’s got lots of money and even more emotional PMS. God, he’s worse than I am. Maybe.

“Good, because I have a question for you.” I straighten in my seat a little bit and try not to let my balloon of hope inflate again. Seriously, that thing has been bent every which way and resembles a deflated knot right about now. Sean puts his fork down and folds his hands together. “Are you attending your graduation ceremony?”

My face scrunches up. “What?” Weird question.

“They asked me to give a lecture to the graduating class—to be the guest speaker—and I told them that I’d have to ask you.”

I lean on my elbow again and pick at the table cloth. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Why not?”

“There’s no one to hood me. You know, before you walk across the stage, someone puts the sashie thing over your head and rests it on your shoulders. My mom would have done it. Since she’s not here, I figured…” I look up into his face and see the fragility. Looking back down at the table, I say, “I don’t understand. Why do you want to hood me? You know you don’t actually get to tie me up, right?”