Page 87 of First-Time Caller
I glance in the direction of the open kitchen at the back of the restaurant. Our waitress is interested in the cute pastry chef, her hair tied back in bright red pigtails while she holds a piping bag in her hands. Their eyes catch and hold like magnets, even across the expanse of the crowded restaurant. I’m tempted to order more dessert just so she has another excuse to go talk to her.
“I don’t know,” I say slowly. “Isn’t that against the rules?”
“What rules?” His eyebrow jumps up again. “We’ve already established this date is a bust. No offense.” He reaches across the table for his tiny pot of tiramisu. “Might as well go for broke.”
I poke around my dessert, considering. It would be nice to talk to someone. To try to untangle some of my crossed wires.
“I’m a completely unbiased sounding board. You can confide in me.” He shovels another bite into his mouth and his eyelashes flutter. “Fuck, this is good.”
“It really is.”
“Incredible. Now tell me what’s on your mind and why you think you don’t have feelings for this person you definitely have feelings for.”
I stab my tiramisu harder than I mean to. “You said you’d be unbiased.”
“Unbiased,” he agrees. “Not stupid.”
At my confused look, he rolls his eyes. “Anyone who’s listened to you guys on the radio for longer than thirty seconds can tell there’s something going on between you two, Lucie. He called me the wrong name like sixteen times.”
I think of Grayson laughing next to me at the breakfast table, the guys in the shop and their lists. Maggie in her office with her knowing looks. Jackson and his perfectly timed interruptions.
They know. All of them know.
The entire city of Baltimore has been listening to me develop an unrequited crush.
I take another bite of chocolate. “Well, this is embarrassing.”
“It’s really not. It’s lovely, actually. It’s honest in a way most things aren’t.”
“Not if he doesn’t feel the same way,” I grumble.
Oliver makes a soft sound. “He feels the same way.”
I shake my head, images from the other night flickering through my mind like a slow-motion horror movie. Begging him to dance with me in front of the jukebox. Grabbing his T-shirt and pulling hard when he tried to tuck me in on the couch. Imadehim stay. “I’m not so sure about that.”
“I am,” Oliver replies. “You should have heard him when he called me to set up this date. I don’t think he could have said fewer words if he tried. And before he hung up, he told me, ‘Be nice, or I’ll kick your fucking ass.’ That’s a direct quote.”
“That’s just how he is.”
“Sure.”
I tip my head to the side. “If I’ve been so obvious, why did you call in? Why did you want to go on a date with me?”
Oliver’s smile settles into something wistful. “Because I figured if anyone could knock me out of this feeling, it would be you, Lucie. You’re . . . captivating. I think the whole city is in love with you.”
I’ve heard that before. From Aiden. Before one of our shows. I thought he meant it as a joke, but maybe . . .
“I talked about how to change a tire the other night. For twenty minutes.”
“It was charming.”
I huff a breath. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Why did you want to be knocked out of your feelings? Who is this mystery girl that has you all tangled up?”
He winces. “Ah. That’s the tricky part, I guess. It’s my . . . brother’s ex.” I suck in a breath through my teeth and color brushes the tops of his cheeks. “You see the issue.”
