Undrea glanced over at him again. “Interesting.” Amazing how a little bit of information about someone could make them even more attractive than they already were.
“I shouldn’t have said anything. You’re already picturing him as the father of your children, aren’t you?”
She snorted and then threw a French fry at Aaron. “I am not. Stop that.”
“I just know you’re going to get all gooey over him.”
“Zip it, Rigby.”
He wiped his mouth with his napkin, then tossed it on the table. “You know what you need?”
“I’m afraid to answer that question.”
“A good swim.”
“Had one this morning, thank you.”
“Then you need a night out with the girls. A little time in the VIP room at Insomnia.”
“The VIP room only happens when Greyson’s paying, and he’s pretty busy these days.”
“You don’t need Greyson. Just go and have fun. You’re a very attractive woman. Guys will be all over you. You’ll forget about Ethan in a heartbeat. You’ll see.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” She grinned. “For your information, we’re working on a girls’ night out already.”
“Good. Go.”
“You’re just worried that me liking him is going to screw things up for this deal.”
“It could. And getting a job like this would be pretty major for us.” He shifted forward again. “You know his house could end up in a magazine. And any magazine that comes to take pictures of his place would be all over a big aquarium. They love stuff like that. Which means we’d get a mention in connection with Ethan Edmonds.”
She hadn’t thought about that. “You think so?”
“Yes.” He let out a low whistle. “You know what that would do for business? You’d have to hire a second crew, for one thing.”
She put her hands up. “I think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself. That’s a lot of what-ifs.”
“Yeah, you’re right. It is. But I can’t help thinking about it.”
She understood. She glanced down at her plate but cut her eyes at Ethan again. She couldn’t stop thinking about him.
Ethan had no right to feel relieved that Aaron was just an employee of Undrea’s. No right and no reason.
And yet, he was relieved. When he’d seen them in the booth on the other side of the restaurant, he’d immediately assumed that the man across from her was her boyfriend. That simple thought had gotten him up out of his seat and moving toward them before he’d even thought about what he was going to say.
Thankfully, he hadn’t made a fool of himself, but the truth remained that Undrea continued to be firmly stuck in his head. The mental real estate she occupied seemed to be getting larger, too.
He didn’t know what to do about that, either. For that matter, he wasn’t sure he wanted to do anything about it.
“How’s your meatloaf?” Nina asked.
“It’s really good.” He looked at her dish, feeling a little short-tempered because he’d predicted what she was going to order. “I’d ask how your dry salad with dry chicken is, but I can pretty much guess.”
“It’s not dry,” she said. She dipped the first two centimeters of her fork in the vinaigrette she’d asked for on the side. “I’m having dressing.”
“Are you though?”
She stared at him. “Are you bothered by how I’m eating all of a sudden?”
He took a moment, not really sure he wanted to open this can of worms. But then he kind of did. What was the point of letting something fester until it blew up? Better to tackle it in the early stages, right? “I’m not sure why you wanted to come here if you weren’t actually going to eat anything that was on the menu.”
“What are you talking about?” She laughed like he was being silly. “Where do you think this food came from?”
“That’s your standard special order. A garden salad with no cheese and no croutons with plain grilled chicken and dressing on the side. That’s not on any restaurant’s menu.”
“Maybe it should be. Then it wouldn’t be a special order.”
He sighed, already regretting the conversation. “You’re missing the point.”
“No, I’m not. You’re mad at what I ordered for some reason, despite the fact that I’ve been ordering this same meal for at least the last two years that we’ve been together. Why now, Ethan? Hmm?”
“Because…” He thought a moment, picking his words carefully. “It’s not living life. Not in an enjoyable way.”
“You think that plate of brown glop in front of you is living life?” She smiled sweetly in an attempt, he imagined, to soften her words. “Ethan, my love, you’re a guy. When it comes to weight, you can get away with that kind of meal. I can’t. To look the way I look, I have to watch what I put into my body. I have to be aware of the carbs and the calories and the sugar content. And that doesn’t even touch on all of the other things I have to do to maintain how I look.”
He knew all about that: the time she spent at the hair salon, getting her nails done, facials, the yoga and Pilates and all the other stuff that he wasn’t sure he wanted to know about.
She gave him a look. “Not to mention you should be eating healthier anyway.”
He shook his head. “Maybe. My episodes have yet to be tied to diet. And I don’t eat like this all the time. I’m just saying, would it really be the worst thing in the world to let go once in a while? I know you’re very conscious of what you eat. But does it have to be twenty-four seven? What kind of fun is that?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Why is all of this coming out now?”
“You’re the one who wanted to eat here. I thought maybe just this once, you’d actually do that. Eat. Instead, you got your standard boring salad. Again.”
She stared at him for a long moment with a sweet, patient smile fixed in place. Then she calmly reached over, picked up one of the cheddar-stuffed onion rings that were left and took a bite.
She took a second bite, and then a third, finally finishing the entire thing. After which, she took a sip of her water, then wiped her hands on her napkin. “Do you feel better now?”
He laughed. Nina was nothing if not capable of placating him. “Do you?”
“I feel great.”
He wasn’t so sure about that. At the very least, she was probably calculating how many extra steps she’d have to take on the elliptical to burn off that fried monstrosity, but he didn’t care. He knew she’d done it to appease him. And somehow, it had worked.
It wasn’t her fault that she was a picky eater. If her eating habits bothered him, that was his issue to deal with.
She’d pretty much just underlined that.
“Sorry,” he said. “You can eat what you want.”
“Thanks.”
“You know, though, you don’t have to be that skinny. I’d be perfectly fine if you were a bigger size or whatever.”
“Sure,” she said. “You have a long history of dating plus-size women.”