Sweet Little Lies by Michele Grant Read Free Book Online Page A

notice
and
warrants a visit from Chef David.”
    I took my time, poured us both some expensive bubbly water before I answered.“Chef David is a friend of mine from Chicago. He opened this place about six months ago. I calledhim today to tell him I was in town and he insisted I come through.”
    “You are friends with a celebrity chef,” she stated slowly, as if getting used to the idea.
    She cracked me up. Hard as she tried to put me in a box, I kept climbing back out. I could tell she was dying to ask questions but couldn’t quite bring herself to do it. Heaven forbid she should sound datelike. I just nodded with a little smile.
    “Oo-kay.”
    I couldn’t help it, I had to laugh.“It’s killing you, isn’t it?”
    “What?”
    “You’re dying to ask about my background, but you don’t want to act like you care because after dinner I’m supposed to be dismissed from your world, never to be heard from again. Am I right?”
    She leaned back, squinted a little before sighing. “You got me. I really don’t want to start anything, so can I just be a little curious about you without it meaning anything more than that?”
    “Would it make you feel better if I said I don’t have time for any sort of entanglements now myself? I start graduate school in less than two weeks and plan to completely immerse myself in that. Besides, you seem like a woman who needs a lot of time and attention. I don’t have either of those to give.You can stop worrying about me stalking you after our non-date is done, no matter how good you look tonight.” She had this great expression when she was deciding whether to be irritated or amused. She had worn it often since I sat down next to her on the airplane last night.Was that just last night?
    She smirked.“That was both complimentary and insulting at the same time.Are you calling me high maintenance?”
    “Girly, I saw those wedding presents. I know you’re high maintenance,” I reminded her.
    She nodded her head. “Point taken.” She sighed. “Those were some nice gifts.”
    “No doubt. But easy come, easy go—right?”
    She made a moving forward motion with her hand. “On to the next.”
    We sat smiling at each other with the candlelight dancing between us when Chef David walked up.“Hey, S. Dub, what’s good?” I got up and clapped him on the back.
    “Dave Roget, Christina Brinsley. Christina, this is Chef David.”
    Dave was a 5′9″ light-skinned brother with a great smile and just enough glossy sophistication to cover his South Side Chicago roots. He took one look at Christina, leaned in to take her hand, and flashed the smile. “Christina, a pleasure. A true pleasure.Welcome to my little bistro.” He squeezed one of her hands between his and looked at me.“Nice, son.”
    “Thank you for having us on such short notice,” Christina replied while trying to pull her hand away.
    “Not a problem at all.Thanks for gracing my humble establishment with your presence.”
    “Down, son. Unhand the girl,” I teased and sat back down.
    “Oh, sorry. So do we want to talk about how you two know each other and whether Christina wants to be my first ex-wife, or get straight to the menu tonight?”
    Christina laughed.“No, thank you.And menu, please.”
    Dave put his hand on my shoulder.“S. Dub, you trust me?”
    I nodded.“With everything but her, sure.”
    “I’ll send you guys some stuff I’m working on, then.This one’s on me.You two just sit back and enjoy your date.”
    “It’s not a date!” we both said at the same time. Adamant and in unison.
    Dave looked from me to Christina and back again. “I … see.”
    Christina folded her arms and looked at me. I looked back, saying nothing.
    “All right then.We’ll be sending out some wine pairings with each course, unless you want something stronger?”
    I tilted my head to Christina, indicating that the decision was up to her.
    “Wine sounds lovely.Thank you, Dave.”
    “Great, great. I’ll be back out to