Page 5 of Seal the Deal
“Why is the table set for four?” Andrew asks, setting the wine on the table. He doesn’t want a drink, he wants answers.
“Let’s just sit and have a drink,” Amanda tries. “I just pulled the lasagna out of the oven, so it needs to sit for ten or fifteenminutes before I can cut it. I made caesar salad too, without croutons because I know you hate them.”
“I don’t hate croutons, I just?—”
“Hate the mix of textures,” Denise and Amanda finish for him.
“Yeah,” Andrew exhales, unsure why that makes him feel so wrong-footed.
They’re his friends. He’s known Denise forever, and when she started dating Amanda, he liked her immediately, a rarity for him since he often takes a while to warm to people. It wasn’t long after that Amanda became Charlie’s agent, and their little friend group became even more intertwined. His friendship with Amanda has grown as close as the one he shares with Denise, but he feels none of his normal ease with his friends tonight.
“You look like you’re going to throw up, sweetie.” Denise rests a hand at his lower back. “Just sit down and have a drink.”
“I don’t want a drink, I want to know what’s going on.”
Amanda and Denise share a look that does nothing to make Andrew feel any less confused or calmer.
“If this is a blind date, I’m never speaking to either one of you again,” Andrew says, feeling like he might be sick. He let Charlie talk him into one of those last year, and it’d been one of the most soul-sucking, confidence crashing experiences of his life.
“We would never do that to you,” Denise tries, but something in her expression sets off alarm bells.
“You’re doingsomething.”
“Well….yes,” Denise admits, turning towards Amanda. “Is he coming?”
“He was supposed to be here already,” Amanda replies, looking at her watch. “The selfish asshole.”
“Who is supposed to be here?” Andrew asks, eyes darting between them both as if he might be able to figure out their motives through mindreading.
“My cousin,” Amanda answers. “He’s uh, not actually an asshole. At least, not all the time.”
“You have a cousin?” Andrew frowns. “I thought you didn’t have any family.”
“It’s complicated.”
“It’s really not,” Andrew protests, thinking back to what he knows about Amanda’s family—namely that they passed. “Someone is either dead or alive.”
“He’s definitely alive,” Amanda replies, settling herself on the edge of the table. “Though he won’t be for long if he doesn’t show up.”
“Why is your cousin, who is apparently not dead, might I add, coming to dinner?” Andrew questions.
“That’s exactly what we hoped to discuss over dinner.”
“I’d prefer if we could discuss it now.” Andrew wishes he had one of his discreet fidgets in his pocket. As it is he plays with the seam, running his fingers back and forth over it, counting to three and then doing it backward.
Right now he’s confused, triggering his anxiety. Normally, he maintains control by understanding the social dynamics and situations around him at all times to anticipate what someone needs, either from him or the situation at large. He can’t do that when he has no idea what the hell is going on.
“You know,” Denise starts, “her cousin is a great guy once you get to know him. Deep, deep,deepdown.”
“This feels an awful lot like a set up,” Andrew grumbles.
“It’s not a set up,” Denise protests. “At least not exactly.”
“Then what exactly is it?” Andrew demands.
“So my cousin and I—we’re not actually related. My mom married his dad’s brother when I was little—step-kid and all, you know how it is.” Amanda’s expression tightens, and she reaches for her wine glass, downing half of it before dropping into one of the seats at the table. Andrew copies her, trying to mimic herbehavior to put her at ease. “My step-dad’s family is old money, the kind that fucks you up. My mom could never fit into that and neither could I. They got divorced when I was fourteen, and he was only nine, so it’s not like we kept in touch after.”
“I’m sorry,” Andrew says.
