Page 47 of The October Arrangement
“What?” He picked up his drink. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
“You called one of the hardest restaurants to get into in the city a few hours ago, said Simon Montclair would like a table, and magically a table appeared?”
“Pretty much.”
“That’s not making a reservation. That’s being filthy rich.”
He laughed. “Or maybe it’s because Montclair Development owns the place.”
My jaw dropped. “You do?”
“MDG does.”
He could call it a dinner all he wanted. This was absolutely a date. He brought me to a restaurant his company owned.
“Say it, Simon.”
“Say what?”
“This is a date.”
“No. I don’t put labels on dinner. Enough with the date bullshit. Tell me what happened with you and Grady. Why did you break up?”
“Are you asking because you’re genuinely interested, or are you conducting a background check on your temporary roommate?” I smirked.
“Believe it or not, I’m genuinely interested.”
I ran my finger along the stem of my glass. “Things weren’t working anymore. I wasn’t happy.”
“That’s rather vague,” he said.
“It wasn’t meant to be.”
“How long were you two together?”
“Almost two years.”
“That’s quite a long time.” His brow arched. “Did you live together?”
“No.”
“Were you going to?” he asked.
“He wanted to. I kept putting it off.”
“Why?”
“Because I wasn’t sure. He talked about marriage, kids, a house with a picket fence.”
“I’m confused. You didn’t want those things?”
“I do.”
“Then what was the problem?”
“I realized I didn’t want them with him. God, that sounds horrible saying it out loud.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Simon said.
