to start dating seriously, I can’t help thinking that she hasn’t heard the news about Rugged. She seems a bit too chipper to know that her ex is about to get married.
“Do you like him?” I ask. “I mean like him like him?” This is good. If she’s got someone else to occupy her thoughts, maybe she won’t be that upset about Rugged.
“Sure,” Lishelle says, shrugging nonchalantly. “He’s gorgeous, has a great body. And the way he was flirting with me and eyeing me up like I was a juicy piece of steak, there’s no worry about him being one of those down-low brothers.”
“So why don’t you call him?” I suggest. “Today. Take the initiative and suggest a second date.”
Lishelle eyes me warily. “You want me to call him and suggest a second date?”
“Why not? There’s no law to say you can’t, and people often spend so much time playing dating games, not wanting to call too soon. Pretending that they’re not really interested. All that nonsense. What’s the point?”
Even Claudia is looking at me strangely. Her eyes widen slightly, and it’s clear to me that she is trying to warn me that I should quit while I’m ahead.
Lishelle must pick up on the fact that something is going on, because she glances at Claudia, who promptly lifts the menu—a dead giveaway that something is wrong. We never look at the menu, as we always have the buffet.
To deflect attention from Claudia, I chuckle and say, “Listen to me ramble on like Cupid on crack. My pregnancy hormones are making me play matchmaker.”
Lishelle’s eyes bore into me with the intensity of the skilled reporter she is. “What’s going on?”
I don’t answer right away. And damn, it’s clear that Lishelle has sensed there is some secret between me and Claudia, because she looks at Claudia again.
“Oh, look,” Claudia says, throwing a glance beyond Lishelle. “Sierra is coming with your drink.”
Sierra sets the orange juice in front of me. I immediately take a liberal sip, avoiding Lishelle’s eyes.
“Are you having the buffet?” Sierra asks. She asks more out of formality, because we always have the buffet. But perhaps we’re taking too long to get up and fill our plates today, so she’s wondering if we’re going to order off the menu for a change.
“The buffet,” Lishelle tells Sierra.
“Flag me down if you need coffee or anything,” Sierra tells us before heading off to another table.
“And speaking of the buffet,” Claudia begins, “I’m famished. Let’s get some food.”
“Not so fast.” Lishelle stays seated, blocking Claudia’s path of escape from the booth. “What’s going on?”
I stare at Claudia, and she looks uncomfortably back at me.
“Is someone going to spill the beans?” Lishelle goes on.
This is my fault, and I could play as if there’s nothing going on, but Lishelle is too damn intuitive for that. I also know her well enough to realize that she would have said something about the engagement if she’d heard about it, so clearly she’s in the dark. Maybe her friends in the newsroom protected her from the information.
Where Lishelle is concerned, there is no point in sugar-coating anything. There is no way to hint around the subject of Rugged. I just have to say it.
“What do you think about Rugged’s engagement to that model?” I ask, knowing I’m dropping a bomb.
Lishelle’s eyes widen slightly and her jaw slackens, making it crystal clear that she hadn’t heard.
Claudia frowns at me from across the table, but it’s too late now. Could I have been less tactful?
Lishelle chuckles, but the sound is distinctly uncomfortable. “Wh-what did you say?”
“I—I thought you’d heard already,” I stammer. “I’m sorry. I just—it’s been all over the news, so I thought for sure you knew.”
Now Claudia makes a face, the kind that screams, Shut up!
So I do.
A few seconds pass. Lishelle needs a moment to digest this information. Claudia and I are both quiet, waiting for what she’ll say. We’re both here for her if she needs to rant about this, or even cry.
After a long moment, Lishelle’s shocked look morphs into a pleasant one. “So, he’s marrying Randi.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I shouldn’t have blurted it out like that.”
“Why are you apologizing?” Lishelle asks, and chortles as if to emphasize the point that the news hasn’t fazed her one bit. “We’re not dating, remember? We broke up months ago.”
“Yes, but—” I stop abruptly when Claudia kicks me under the table.
“But what?” Lishelle asks. “I dumped him, remember?”
Yes, I know, I think. I could go on to recite Lishelle’s spiel as to exactly why she and Rugged weren’t good for each other, including the major points that he’s a rap artist and he’s younger than her.
“Exactly,” Claudia says, her voice sounding overly sweet. She’s acting out a role—one she feels Lishelle wants her to play. I know this because Claudia and I have had more than one discussion about the fact that we both believe Lishelle liked Rugged more than she wanted to let on.
But if she wants to play happy-go-lucky, I’ll go along with it.
“Tell her what you told me about the baby,” Claudia goes on, clearly desperate to divert the conversation from Rugged.
“What about the baby?” Lishelle asks.
“I felt her. For the first time. Friday night.” I can’t help beaming.
“Ohhh!” Lishelle exclaims. “The baby’s kicking already?”
“It was more of a fluttering than a kick. Like a butterfly was trapped inside my stomach and flapping her wings around.”
“Or an angel,” Lishelle says, and I see her eyes misting. “An angel fluttering her wings.” Suddenly, she gives me a questioning look. “Wait a minute—you said her. Is there something else you haven’t told us?”
“You said you weren’t going to find out the sex of the baby,” Claudia chimes in, a frown forming on her lips.
“And I didn’t,” I quickly point out. “I know you both think it’s archaic, but Dom and I want to save that surprise for when the baby is born.”
“How are we supposed to spoil that little darling rotten if we don’t know what you’re having?” Lishelle protests.
“You’ll buy neutral colors like people did way back in the Stone Ages.”
