Not a Second Chance (9 page)

“Very true. That would be boring.”

She cracked a smile and picked up a container of pasta salad. “I guess you behaved the way I thought you should. I just…Well, it was sort of weird that you never introduced yourself. But maybe it was better this way.”

“If she asked, I was going to say my name was Flynn.”

“Why Flynn?”

He shrugged. “I scanned your bookshelf for ideas. That’s the name that caught my eye.”

“I was going to introduce you as Jennifer.”

“You’re hilarious.”

“It’s this joke Jo and I have that—Never mind. You ready for lunch? It’s a bit early, but I’m not in the mood to pick up where we left off.”

“No? That’s too bad.” It would help purge the thoughts of romantic indoor picnics from his mind.

“It really is. But last time we had an indoor picnic, you got lucky afterward. So don’t give up hope. Of course, this isn’t going to be a picnic. Since we’ll eat at the table, it’ll just be a normal meal.”

“You’re sure you don’t want to try the floor? Come on—it’s feeling rejected.”

“I don’t think the floor has the same feelings that you do.”

“I don’t feel rejected. Just impatient to get lunch over with.”

She laughed. He was glad he could still make her laugh.

It might be irrational, but Allison was disappointed Sidney hadn’t said anything when Jo dropped in. He hadn’t acted like her boyfriend, hadn’t acted like someone who had anything to do with her life. He’d acted the way she wanted, but it disappointed her nonetheless. Once upon a time, he would have come to stand beside her, wrapped his arm around her waist, introduced himself, and tried to make her sister laugh. And if that hadn’t made Jo think twice about asking Allison for yet another favor, he would have stood up for her.

But they didn’t have that kind of relationship now, and the man was a real pain in the ass who did little but piss her off. Even when he was doing what she wanted, he pissed her off.

At lunch, he made dirty jokes about nearly every item of food. Not just sausages. How did the man function in daily life if that’s how his mind worked?

Okay, he made her smile once or twice. But that was all. He’d made her smile many more times on their long-ago indoor picnic at his parents’ house. Though she’d probably just been smiling the whole damn meal, one continuous smile, because she liked the guy and they were on a date. She’d given herself permission to take the whole day off from schoolwork—so it was probably that, too.

She’d told her friends all about that date, and Maya seemed to remember. Or just considered picnics in general to be romantic—it wouldn’t be unreasonable for her friend to have forgotten about Allison’s fourth date with a guy she dated a very long time ago. In fact, it would be more normal for Maya to have forgotten.

Whatever the case, the sneaky plan to sabotage their weekend—by making it more romantic—had some effect. After Maya left, Allison had stared at the contents of the basket as Sidney cheerfully talked about eating on the floor, and she was filled with longing to be the girl she’d been back then. About to—Well, not quite fall in love. But about to start what had been generally a good relationship until the last couple months.

Yeah, she was dripping with enthusiasm. The past few years had been a bust for her relationship-wise, so now she was pining for stupid things like that.

After lunch, they walked to Sidney’s condo. It was a long walk, but what else were they going to do? If they had sex every hour, Allison would get sore.

“You okay?” he asked as they waited for a light.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Do you feel guilty about not babysitting Dexter?”

“No.” She hadn’t been thinking about it much. “Though it would have given us something to do other than strangle each other, like Maya said. I can’t believe she offered to look after him. She’ll probably do something small that won’t measure up to Jo’s standards. I’m glad I won’t be around to see the fallout from
that.
”

“No?”

“Hmm.” She glanced at the red light. “If the alternative is you telling me I should sit on the floor yet again, maybe I would.”

“You shoot down all my ideas.”

“I know. It’s my specialty.”

She made the mistake of looking at Sidney. And this time, she saw the guy who’d taken her on that indoor picnic date, the guy she’d been a little crazy over, even if she never came to love him.

But that was ancient history. She should focus on today. Seeing his condo, meeting his parents, somehow filling the rest of the hours. Nothing more.

* * * *

Allison looked around. Sidney’s condo was one floor from the top and had a view of the lake. Not too fancy, not too big, but it looked remarkably clean and comfortable.

“Wow,” she said. “This is nice.”

“What were you expecting?” he asked.

“I don’t know, but my expectations were pretty low.”

“I’m not surprised. Mouse-infested basement apartment or something like that?”

She punched his shoulder. “No, I wouldn’t go
that
far.”

“Just almost that far.”

She shrugged and slipped off her shoes. “Perhaps.”

But maybe this was what she should have expected. After all, he did seem to have his life more or less together, and he probably made decent money.

Sidney walked to the L-shaped couch and sat down. He patted the cushion beside him. “Come sit.”

She went over to the couch and lay back, her head on the arm of the couch and her feet on his lap. They were quiet for a few minutes. It was two thirty—they still had quite a bit of time to kill. Maybe they could watch a movie. Maybe a really long movie. They could watch the first
Lord of the Rings
movie today and the next two tomorrow. Yes, that sounded like a tolerable way to spend a weekend with Sidney.

But first, she wanted to know more about tonight’s dinner. The one where, for the first time in her life, she would pretend to be someone’s girlfriend.

A totally normal thing to do, of course.

“Which restaurant are we going to with your parents?” she asked.

“Geyser.”

Wow. Allison never thought she’d eat at
Geyser
. The swanky restaurant in Yorkville was probably ten times as expensive as any restaurant she went to with her own family.

“As long as you’re not paying…”

“I’m not.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “But the portions are so tiny we’ll probably have to eat again afterward.”

“That’s sad.”

“It is. Fine dining should not mean the food is so small you need a microscope to see it. And so expensive you need to work for two hours at a well-paying job to pay for a bite of beef. But my parents shot down my suggestions, so that’s where we’re going.”

“At least I won’t have to worry about calories if everything’s tiny.” Though she’d already promised herself she wouldn’t think about calories this weekend.

“I wouldn’t count on it,” he said. “Everything’s probably doused in goose fat from geese that are fed exclusively foie gras.”

“Isn’t that cannibalism?”

“I suppose it is. Okay, geese that are fed bacon.”

“Bacon,” she scoffed. “That’s peasant food. What about pancetta? Prosciutto-wrapped scallops?”

“Still too ordinary. The geese might turn up their beaks.”

She laughed. “Filet mignon with truffle oil? Lots and lots of truffle oil.”

“That’s better. But perhaps the geese would prefer a charcuterie board.”

“Or lobster dipped in a barrel of organic butter.”

“Or—” Sidney started to smile, but then he shook his head and looked away.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“I don’t think it was
nothing
.”

“Fine. I was just thinking that geese might be vegetarian. And goose fat is goose fat, so the goose’s diet probably doesn’t matter anyway.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what caused you to look away.” She suspected he’d been disturbed that they were enjoying themselves without having sex. Frankly, she found it a little disturbing too.

And it wasn’t the first time it had happened today. Even arguing with him was fun sometimes. Aside from the dinner with his parents, where she’d have to fake being his girlfriend in a place she totally didn’t belong, spending the weekend with Sidney didn’t seem like the hardship it had yesterday.

What the hell was happening with them?

“Why did you refuse to meet my parents?” he asked. “I wanted you to meet them during reading week, and you said no.”

Well, spending the weekend together wouldn’t be a hardship if they could avoid the past. But that was impossible, apparently.

Allison sat up and put her feet on the floor, trying to collect her thoughts after the abrupt change in conversation. “I knew we wouldn’t stay together much longer, so I didn’t see the point.”

“So in February, you already knew it wasn’t going to last.” He still wasn’t looking at her. “Why didn’t you just break up with me then?”

“I don’t know. But I never hid the fact that you weren’t part of my plans for the future. If you saw it differently, it’s because you were seeing what you wanted to see instead of what was actually there.” She paused. “When you said, ‘I love you,’ and I didn’t say it back, what did you think?”

“That you weren’t in touch with your feelings, but it would happen soon enough.”

“When I refused to meet your parents, what did you assume?”

“That you were scared of meet-the-parents situations.”

“I don’t remember you saying any of this to me.”

“It seemed awkward to bring it up.” He shifted farther away from her. His hand, which had been resting on the back of the couch, curled into a fist. Every inch of his body looked tense.

“Sidney, what happened after we broke up?”

“I was a bit unhappy. That’s all.” He said it nonchalantly, but she knew that was an act.

“A
bit
unhappy? Am I the reason for your year of doing nothing but playing poker?”

“I wouldn’t say you were
the
reason.”

“But I was one of them.”

“I suppose you were,” he said. “What do you want to do now? Watch a movie?” He started to get up, but she placed a hand on his wrist.

“Wait. I’m not done.” Allison tucked her feet underneath her. They were definitely not finished here. Now that they’d started talking about this, she wanted to know everything.

“Oh joy. More interrogation.”

“I wouldn’t call it interrogation. Just—”

“Whatever.” He waved a hand. “Hurry up.”

“So am I the reason you don’t date? Because you don’t want to go through a bad breakup again?”

He looked at her for a moment then stood up. “We’re watching a movie. What do you want to see?
The Usual Suspects? Children of Men? No Country for Old Men?
Maybe—”

“I assume that’s a yes,” she said.

“I forgot how stubborn you are,” he muttered. “Fine. Yes. That breakup made me realize dating isn’t for me.”

“But you’re totally and completely over me?”

“It’s been ten years. Of course I am.”

She felt a tiny dagger to her heart when he said that. Which was ridiculous. It was probably his harsh, clipped voice, not his words. Yes, that must be it. Because of
course
he was over her. She’d be worried if he wasn’t. And it wasn’t like she wanted to get back together with him.

“Look, can we move on?” He walked over to the television.

“You’re the one who seems to have trouble moving on. The one who hasn’t had any relationships in a decade.”

“I have moved on. By realizing I shouldn’t bother with relationships.”

Sidney stalked back to the couch and leaned over her, one hand on the armrest. There was none of the ease they’d had when they arrived at his condo. None of the playfulness of when they debated what to feed snobby geese. He loomed over her now, and she shrank back just a little.

“There will be no more of this for the rest of the weekend,” he said firmly. “Got it?”

“Just one thing.” She swallowed. “I’m sorry. About everything.”

“Why are you sorry? If you had to do things again, you’d do them the same way, wouldn’t you?”

“Probably.” Her life had turned out more or less the way she’d wanted it to. But she had to apologize because knowing their breakup had affected him so much…it hurt. She might not have loved him, but she’d never wanted to cause him that much pain.

“Then you’ve got nothing to be sorry about.”

“
Children of Men
,” she said.

He looked momentarily confused, but then he straightened up and pulled out the DVD. “Fine with me.”

Allison did not understand the menu.

What were sunchokes? And celeriac? Vegetables of some sort, presumably. She would ask, but she didn’t want to sound stupid; she would look it up on her phone, but she didn’t want to seem rude.

Sun-kissed carrots.
But carrots were grown underground.
Mint foam
. What exactly was that?
Lemon-asparagus composition
. This wasn’t English class—how did that make any sense?

She wished she’d looked at the menu beforehand. Then she and Sidney could have had a good laugh about it too. But his parents, Carl and Janice, seemed to take this very seriously, so she tried her best not to chuckle at any of the menu items. Like the ninety-five dollar burger, or the beef tenderloin lollipop served with carrot reduction, compressed celery, heirloom plum relish, and charred apple seeds and ribbons. She read that one over three times, certain her eyes were deceiving her, but apparently they were not.

Then there was the drinks menu. Five types of sparkling water? Lime-scented coconut water? Also listed were old-fashioned ginger ale, not-so-old-fashioned raspberry lemonade, sparkling blood orange tea, and cucumber lavender soda. Plus some kind of fancy apple juice made from New Zealand apples, as if Canadian ones weren’t good enough.

And those were just the nonalcoholic beverages.

Sidney leaned close to her, and she felt an unwanted shiver down her back. A shiver that had nothing to do with the flimsy material of her dress.

The awkward tension between them had dissipated throughout the movie. Having sex afterward helped too. And now she almost felt like they were a team in this crazy place where neither of them really fit in.