Page 38 of Almost Not Quite Engaged

“How did you know the year?” Nate whines while leaning on a credenza on the back wall behind the desk.

“The color, depth of hue.” I win him over much faster than anticipated.

“Wait a minute, there, you’re telling me you’re a little lady who knows her Scotch from sight?”

“I do, but I’d much rather taste it.”

“I’ll be damned. Zane snagged a gal I can stand.” He smiles over the top of his rocks glass.

Without hesitation, I go in for the kill. “How’d you shoot this morning, sir?”

“I didn’t get out because of blasted Aunt Lolly. Nate here shot a 110, must be jitters. I shot a 78 yesterday.”

“Impressive. What’s your handicap?”

I know the buzzwords. I don’t give a crap about any of this, but I’ve been having this same conversation with my father’s friends since I was ten. Not Scotch until later but all about golf, hunting, skiing, The Jets and vacations.

Jack’s voice is a cozy reassuring blanket. “Is noon too early for a lady to indulge in just one with us?”

“I’d be honored.”

Zane crosses his arms over his chest and looks almost proud.

“Let’s see if she can guess this one,” Nate says as I nod. I’m down, you smug tool. I got this.

Jack turns asking, “How do you take it, missy?”

“Is this another part of the test? Two fingers, neat with an ice chip.”

I sit in the wingback chair adjacent to his as I watch the angle they pour my drink. I cross my legs and Zane’s gaze wanders up my leg. What the hell is that about? He needs to stay on his own side. Do not come closer to me until I figure out if Zane’s acting or are we actually flirting. Are we teasing, antagonizing or doing something else? I don’t think Scotch will bring clarity but right now it’s the only option.

Nate hands me a glass. I sniff for the show. “It smells creamy like toffee. Glenfiddich, 18 to 21. The brandied look makes it 21.”

Jack leaps up a little bit. “I’ll be good God damned.”

Nate blusters and whines, “No fair. You cheated.”

Zane grins widely, and I rejoice at knocking Nate down a peg. “Hey, that’s my girl you’re calling a cheat.” A flutter at the title of being someone’s girl. I never even felt that from Chad the way I feel it from my fake boyfriend. Now I’m sad that Chad probably never cared for me. Were we never really in love? Was all of it an act on his part to get my money and to get me to pay for things?

Jack’s voice pulls me out of the spiral. “Little lady, you must come to the Scotch tasting.”

A whine erupts from the corner. “Dad! It’s just dudes.”

Jack’s sturdy frame nimbly rounds on Nate. “Quit your bitching, boy. You’ve had enough dude time. I’m paying for the goddamn thing. Consider her my plus one if Zane doesn’t mind.”

Zane looks so proud of me that I figured out how to get out of all lady parties that might pop up tomorrow. “Not at all.”

I lift my chin to Jack. “I’d be thrilled to have such a handsome date.”

Nate downs the rest of his glass. “You’d better hold tight, Squire. Dad’s making a move.”

Squire. Interesting. I lean over and take my thumb and forefinger around his knee and pinch. “Yeah, Squire, better watch out.” He winces, and I’m elated he has a terrible nickname. He’ll never learn my childhood nickname. Only my parents’ friends use it.

He shudders a little bit, like shaking off a chill. Zane wanders around the room then settles on the arm of my chair as Jack talks about tying flies and trout.

Zane spells the word help on the back of my neck, and my body reacts without my permission. I can’t concentrate because he keeps tracing the line where my hair meets my neck. Back and forth, it’s hypnotic, and my goosebumps give me away this time.

I’ve no place to hide them in a sundress. Zane notices and rubs my arm, thinking I’m cold. They don’t disappear with the heat of his hand but get worse under his touch. Realizing what’s happening, he bursts into inappropriate laughter and looks at me.