Chapter Twelve

We end up at a dim sum restaurant called Pearl China in Arlington. It’s a large airy place and already crowded. The hostess comes over. She’s a slim Asian woman in her forties, petite and energetic, and she reminds me a little bit of Aunt Sun. She smiles widely. “Matt! So good to see you.”

“Hey, Lin.”

“So two people, yes?”

He nods, putting an arm around my shoulder. “Yup.”

“Follow me.”

Conversations buzz louder as we weave through the restaurant toward a big water tank with flounder and lobsters with rubber bands around their claws. Our booth is a couple of yards away and big enough to accommodate at least four diners.

She gives us laminated menus and leaves. I study it and check off the items I want on the order sheet. “You seem to know the area pretty well,” I say, sliding the sheet across the table to him.

“I grew up here.” He marks his choices and hands it to our waitress, who’s arriving with a pot of hot oolong tea.

“Really?”

He nods, pouring the tea for us. “My parents practice law in D.C. and Virginia.”

Whoa. I did not know that. Sammi never mentioned it…not that I asked, since she seemed more interested in Matt’s dating history than his background in general, the kind of stuff that would tell me something about him as a person.

“Then how come you went to New York?” I ask, wanting to know more about him. Everyone in the Darling family does something at Sweet Darlings Inc. Unless he doesn’t get along with his parents, it seems logical he’d join their firm.

“Wanted to make something of myself on my own. And at the time, New York felt more exciting than D.C.”

Our waitress returns with a cart full of delicious-smelling dim sum plus assorted sauces, then places everything on the table along with a fresh order sheet, just in case we want more food.

When she’s gone, I ask, “Is that where you tried cases?” remembering him saying he’s good at it.

“Yes. Everyone at the firm had to litigate, although not everyone had a talent for it.” He pushes a wooden steamer basket with some dumplings toward me. “Here, try these. They’re really good.”

“Thanks.”

I take a bite and almost moan. It’s perfectly prepared, with a delicate balance of veggies and crab meat. Amazing Italian and now this. The man knows his food, and I can appreciate that. I take another, then push it back to him so he can have some before I get too greedy. I’m quite sure that taking more than half would look bad.

“So if you were so good at it, why’d you quit to join Sweet Darlings?” I ask. “I don’t know how much cachet we have compared to a big fancy law firm in New York City, and we don’t sue much.”

Not that I remember, anyway. Alexandra believes in running a tight ship—strict compliance with the law and a corporate culture of adding value. Profit comes when you add value, she always says.

“Besides, don’t you miss New York?” My cousin Kathleen said she wouldn’t trade New York for any city in the world…except possibly Paris or Milan.

“Nope. I don’t miss it. I wanted to make a change, and Sweet Darlings Inc. is just the place I was looking for.” He finishes his tea, grows a bit thoughtful. “About six months ago, one of the associates at the firm just…collapsed in the middle of a deposition.” Matt’s mouth tightens for a brief moment. “He never got back up.”

The shumai between my chopsticks almost slips and falls on my plate. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“It was a shame. He was a brilliant lawyer too.”

“Is that why you…quit?”

“No. It’s just…” Matt frowns. “He had a plan, you know? Pay off his student loans. Marry his college sweetheart. Make partner. But he never got to do any of it, and he was working his life away doing something he didn’t particularly enjoy. He might have been a great lawyer, but he didn’t especially care for litigation or some of the cases he had to handle.”

That sounds so sad. I can’t imagine living like that. “Sammi said you had some”—I clear my throat—“less than great clients. I mean, your old firm did.”

Matt’s lips twist into a wry smile. “That’s putting it kindly. It’s one reason why I decided to join Sweet Darlings. I like the company, its people and its business. It’s something I can feel good about.” He hands me a plate of mini-buns filled with minced meat, and I take one. “So if you’re wondering when I’m going back to Manhattan, I’m not.”

I flush, because he’s totally figured me out. Am I such an open book? It’s a bit disconcerting because he seems so opaque. Sometimes I think I get him, but there are other times he leaves me totally confused. Like last night when he didn’t want me to go down on him. After his explanation, I understand why, but I would’ve never guessed on my own, and it bugs me that my experience with men is so limited that I’m fumbling around. I start to say something, but a cheery greeting interrupts me.

“Matt!”

I turn my head and see two blondes coming toward our booth. I recognize both of them. One is Olivia, his sister. The other is Emma Beane.

His sister is dressed casually in a Harvard T-shirt, cropped denim pants and red Chucks, looking like a wholesome, American girl next door. Emma, on the other hand, is in a purple wrap dress that shows off her curves and toned legs. Diamonds glitter around her throat and ears, and her Jimmy Choo heels look almost ridiculous on the inexpensive tile flooring of the restaurant. Her blue eyes zero in on Matt, she runs her tongue over her lips as though he’s a treat she can’t wait to devour…and I decide then and there that I don’t like her. Still, I have to admit she’s gorgeous, even though she doesn’t look anywhere as beautiful as the picture I saw on Google. The fact that she’s photogenic makes the situation slightly more palatable, the way a dead cockroach is vaguely more acceptable than a live one.

Matt smiles widely. Maybe he can’t really read me after all, even though all of a sudden it doesn’t make me feel one bit better. God, I’m so perverse.

“Hi, sis. Emma,” he says. “What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood and asked Olivia to join me for brunch. I haven’t had good dim sum in forever,” Emma answers, her voice sweet and innocent. So. She’s the one who called out his name. “Lin said the wait’s kind of long. Do you mind if we join you? My treat.”

“I don’t mind waiting,” Olivia says quickly. “It’s only like half an hour.”

Thank you, Olivia. Maybe Matt’s family is cool, except for the naked dancer uncle.

“Oh come on, we’re all friends.” Emma laughs like she’s said something particularly witty.

Except I’m not your friend. I steal a quick glance at Matt. His face reveals nothing, but the smile hasn’t faltered. Not even a little. What does that mean? I need an app to decipher men’s expressions. Maybe Sammi and I can develop one together.

“I’m sure Matt’s date wants to be left alone,” Olivia says.

“Date?” Emma’s eyes widen. “I’m so sorry.” She finally turns to face me. “I didn’t see you there. I had no idea Matt was dating so soon after moving to Virginia. I mean, I guess it makes sense since he needs to marry soon and all, but…” She laughs again.

I give her a thin smile. “I’m sure.” My flaming red hair is just so easy to overlook. And what the heck is up with this marriage thing? Is she implying she’s going to marry Matt? Ugh. Talk about premature marital fantasy. Surely that falls under TMI.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Emma says, fluttering her eyelashes, although I don’t know why she’s doing that because that has no effect on me. “I mean…unless it’s truly a date date?”

I shoot another quick glance in Matt’s direction. Is this a date? It feels like it, but then we haven’t really established any ground rules except for the “no intercourse” thing. We had one dinner and blow-jobus interruptus because he sensed I wasn’t ready, so maybe it’s just having another meal together and…I don’t know. I’ve never dated a man I was planning to sleep with. Not that I’ve slept with anyone, either. God. This is a mess. I’m a mess.

He looks back at me, and there’s a silent patience in his gaze as though he wants me to answer Emma. I can’t decide if it’s some kind of test, or if I’m overthinking this. Probably overthinking.

Okay, I’m just going to say no. Olivia alone would’ve been okay, but not Emma Beane. She reminds me of all those mean, catty girls from high school who thought they should get whatever they wanted just because. This may be Matt’s morning, but it’s my morning too. And damn it, I’m going to have a great Sunday.

Just as I open my mouth, Emma says, “Regardless, I’m sure she’s not one of those insecure girls who can’t stand being around accomplished women. It’s so unattractive and anti-feminist.”

My cheeks heat, and the words I’m about to say get stuck in my throat. If I were a violent person—or Sammi—I might throw one of the steamer baskets in her face.

Matt’s eyebrows pinch together. “Emma—”

“Oh, come on, Matt.” She touches his shoulder, a seemingly innocent gesture, except I know it isn’t. “You know how I get when I don’t eat, and I haven’t had a bite since I got up.” She twists her body this way and that, sticking her tits out and running a finger along his biceps.

Matt pulls back. “That is—”

She reaches for him again, and I want to slap the offending hand hard enough to break her wrist.

Abruptly I stand. I’ve had enough.

“Jan?” Matt says.

“If Emma’s really just dying for our scraps, let her have them. I wouldn’t want her saying we denied her food or anything.”

Emma swivels her head my way. Her cheeks are bright red underneath the layers of foundation and powder. “Excuse me?”

I feel her furious blue gaze boring into me. But I’m too far gone to care. “I need to use the ladies’ room. The shrimp shumai in particular’s really good. I ate almost all of them though, so you might want to have some of the other stuff I didn’t bother to finish.” I gesture at the table and grab my purse.

As I walk away, my face grows hotter and hotter, my heart beating erratically. I have no idea what just came over me. I’m usually never this catty or mean. And I’ve certainly never fought over a guy. Ever.

Still, it made me feel good to see Emma’s face turn scarlet. I have to hope that Matt isn’t too upset—I was too chickenshit to check his expression. Not that it would’ve meant much, since I can’t seem to figure him out anyway.

What wouldn’t I give for Michelle’s ability to read male-female situations.

I stumble into the bathroom and run cold water over my wrists. Cora swears it helps you calm down when you’re upset. Or seasick. I don’t know if it works or not, but at the moment I’m willing to try anything to bring my heartbeat back to normal.

The bathroom door swings open, and Olivia walks in. She’s impassive as she watches me. Maybe she’s mad I treated her friend badly. Given my shitty luck recently, she’s probably going to dissolve into cliché and give me that “you aren’t good enough for Matt” speech in…three…two…one…

She bursts into a giggle, then covers her mouth. “I wish I’d snapped a picture of her expression when you walked away.”

“What?”

“Emma! She was so angry, and she deserved it. She knows Matt would never smack her down publicly, so she always acts like a total brat. I’m glad you didn’t let her get away with it.”

“I see.” I eye Olivia warily. “I thought you guys were friends.”

She shrugs. “Her father’s an important client at the firm, and we grew up together. But she’s not the first person I’d think of if I needed someone in my corner.” She gives me a small smile, then washes her hands. “Don’t let Emma bother you. She’s been calling Matt ever since he moved back to Virginia, but you’re the one he brought here, not her. I bet if you call him, he won’t ignore it.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I saw the way he was looking and smiling at you. I think he likes you.”

She gazes at me intently, and it’s incredibly nerve-racking. I wonder if she’s a great litigator too, and if this creepy staring is how she cracks her witnesses. I let out a soft laugh. “I’m not sure if you know your brother as well as you think you do.”

“Hmm. We’ll have to agree to disagree on that point.”

She sounds awfully confident. Maybe it’s because she too went to Harvard…unless the T-shirt is a gift from Matt. When did she see all that stuff between him and me? She wasn’t watching us that long.

Oh wait. Olivia was at Carlos’s. Did she see something there? But that doesn’t make sense. Matt barely knew me then.

She sighs. “Matt canceled our brunch, and if I’d known he was going to be here, I wouldn’t have come with Emma.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.”

“He and I are just neighbors,” I say, because, well…that’s what we are. Calling me and Matt something more meaningful seems…presumptuous. Besides, if we were more, wouldn’t Matt have told that annoying woman?

“I think he wants to be more. The ball’s in your court.” Olivia gives me a small nod and leaves.

I dry my hands, reapply my lipstick and draw in a deep breath. Time to face Emma the Nemesis.