CHAPTER FIVE
ABIGAIL
I was assuming that I'd misheard Kirby or somehow just thought his name was supposed to be John. Harry impressed me the moment I laid eyes on him thought. He was dressed to the nines in a designer suit and tie, with a very slight British accent that Kirby failed to mention.
He was tall, dark and handsome, just as she promised, with the build of someone who worked out often. His dark, black hair was impeccably styled, and you could tell he put a lot of effort into his appearance. His chiseled cheek bones and grey eyes made him into a work of art.
And damn, did he smell good too.
“Mom, dad, this is Harry,” I said, introducing my parents. “And Harry, these are my parents, Eve and Ronald Johnston.”
“It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Johnston,” he said, shaking my father's hand and then leaned down and placed a soft kiss on my mother's. She blushed and giggled in a way I didn't think I'd ever heard from her before. Wow. The man knew how to make an impression on the ladies, that was for sure. “My word,” she said, “and here I feared chivalry was dead.”
We waited for a hostess who took us to our seats in a corner booth. Harry pulled the seat out for me, forcing my father to awkwardly do the same for my mom.
“So, Harry, we haven't heard much about you,” my mother said as we all settled in. “What is it that you do?”
“I'm a surgeon over at Cedars Sinai,” he said matter-of-factly, causing my mom's eyes to grow wide.
“A surgeon?” She looked over at me with a pleased – damn near excited – look on her face. “Abigail didn't mention that.”
“Yes, cardiology to be exact,” he said with a confident grin. “I fix people's hearts for a living.”
“Good thing too. My daughter needs her heart fixed after –”
“MOM!” I muttered, nudging her with my foot under the table.
Harry, being the suave man that he was, quickly changed the subject, “Well your daughter is amazing and she's doing a lot to heal my heart too,” he said, squeezing my hand. “She's been a true blessing for me, ever since I met her.”
Hell, he's so smooth that he even has me convinced at this point.
“So, tell me, where did you and Abigail meet?” my mom asked.
As usual, she does all the talking while my poor father just sits there and can't get a word in edgewise. Of course, he looks like he'd rather be anywhere but there at the moment. Unlike my mother, my father wasn't constantly on me about having a boyfriend or getting married.
Like something straight out of a ridiculous romantic comedy movie, both Harry and I start to talk at the same time – and gave very different accounts of our first encounter.
“Online,” I said.
“See that bar over there?” Harry pointed to where we were just sitting. “She walked right up to me, and asked if she could buy me a drink.”
My mom looked at me, then Harry, and then back to me again. Confusion, and a touch of suspicion, in her eyes.
“I mean,” I corrected myself, “We met online originally. After that, we scheduled the date and well, here we are!”
God, he was just so damn gorgeous and charming, it was a shame he was gay. I might have considered a roll in the hay with him after the torture session that was dinner with my parents was over, but I wasn't even remotely his type.
“Yes, yes,” Harry said, smiling and winking at me. “But it sounds more romantic when I tell it, doesn't it?”
“Always does, sweetie,” I said. “You're much better at the romance than I am.”
“How long have you been together?” My mom was trying to get all the probing, invasive questions out of the way, probably still trying to determine if this was real or not.
This time, I bit my tongue and let Harry take over. We were less apt to stumble over each other's stories that way.
“About two weeks now, right?” he looked over at me.
“Two weeks, yes,” I said. “That's right.”
The waiter came and took our orders, and I ordered another drink, because God knew, I needed it. If I was going to make it through the evening, it was probably only going to be with a stiff buzz. Even though everything was going well – better than I imagined, even – it was still early and there was more than enough time for things to go completely sideways.
The butterflies in my stomach were getting the best of me and there was a little feeling of nausea creeping in. A sudden sense of terror stole over me, wondering if I could keep this charade up all night. I just knew I was going to say or do something to slip up and blow our cover, giving us away. My mom had a razor-sharp BS detector and I knew if I stepped even an inch out of line, she'd be on me.
But Harry was obviously a pro at this. He and my mom did most of the talking amongst themselves, leaving my poor dad and me to chat about mundane things.
“You went golfing with Uncle Gerry last week, right?” I asked.
I pushed my mashed potatoes around on my plate, not trusting myself to put too much into my stomach at that moment.
“I did,” he said with a chuckle. “It's nice to get away from the ol' chatterbox now and then.”
“I heard that, Ron,” my mom said, scowling at my father. “And it's not my fault that my daughter happens to be dating a very interesting man.”
“Hey, I'm not complaining,” he teased. “It gives my ears a break.”
Harry laughed, a sincere smile on his face. A sincere, gorgeous smile, at that. It nearly took my breath away.
“It's fine,” he said. “I can't remember a time when someone took this much interest in me, to be honest.”
My mom leaned forward and eyed Harry, and whispered – loud enough for me to hear. “Is my daughter not giving you the attention you deserve?”
She followed it up with a wink in my direction and a laugh. I looked at her and couldn't believe what I was seeing. She was totally buying all of this. Harry was absolutely winning her over. I couldn't believe it, but my mom believed that Harry was my boyfriend. My little ruse was working like a charm.
“Oh, we're just both busy with our careers,” he said. “But trust me, she's –”
“I've told her she works too damn much,” my mom said, shaking her head. “I'm always on her about getting out and enjoying life.”
“Mom, I'm the CEO of a company,” I said. “I'm going to work a lot, and Harry understands.”
“I understand better than most,” he said, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. “We're both very busy with our work, but when we do spend time together, it's the quality that counts, not the quantity.”
“I guess that's why you're the first boyfriend in a long time that we've met,” my mom said with a smile. “Seems you two have a lot in common. And you seem to really get her.”
Yeah, it sounded like it. Harry was too good at this, I'd have to thank Kirby in a big way. He’d set things up so perfectly that when we would eventually have to “break up”, our careers would be the perfect excuse. For now, though, I just enjoyed the feel of his hand in mine. It felt so natural that I wondered if Kirby had misunderstood about him being gay.
Our server carried over our check and dropped it off. I reached for it, but Harry beat me to it.
“I said it was on me, silly,” I teased, trying to pry it from his hands.
“I’ve got it, sweetheart,” he said, opening it up and throwing a credit card into the folder.
“A good man will always pick up the check on a date. And Harry is quite obviously, one of the good ones,” my mom said. “So, stop arguing with him.”
“But –”
I wanted to argue that this was our agreement and almost let that slip out, biting it back at the last minute. He was doing me a favor, a huge favor. I was going to have to pay him back after this was all over.
“No buts,” Harry said. “I had a marvelous time, and the food was good – but the company was even better. We really should do this more often – get together with your folks.”
“I've been telling her that for ages,” my mother cackled.
“Uhh don't be silly,” I laughed nervously. “We don't have time for –”
“In all honesty, that would be lovely,” my mom said, clasping her hands in front of her. “We don't get to see enough of Abigail as it is. And now that we know you're a part of her life, I hope we can see more of the both of you. How about next week? We pick the place?”
“I have a better idea,” Harry said. “How about the three of you come over to my place for dinner? I love cooking for people and so far as I know, I haven't sent anybody to the ER with my fare just yet.”
What in the hell was he doing? This was not in our agreement! He was going way over the top with this – way too far. This was supposed to be a one-time, no-repeat performance; just something to get my mother off my back. Harry was going way off the reservation with this and I was starting to panic.
“What do you say, Abigail?” he asked, dazzling me with his perfectly white smile. “Think they'd like my famous seafood bisque?”
“Oh, I have no doubt they'd love it, but –”
“Just tell me the time and place, and we'll be there,” my mom said. “With or without Abigail.”
What was going on? I tried to get Harry to look at me, to give me some warning about his motives – or his next move – but it was too late. My mom had already put it in her schedule.
Like it or not, it looked like I was about to have date number two with Harry next week. With my parents present. Again.
What in the hell was he thinking?