The Arrangement (8 page)

Her mind shifted from her dream of city life back to the small town Eli already loved. What Eli perceived as “helping” and interested in people Evie would describe as nosy and full of gossip. In fact, she wondered how long it would take for her coffee date with Eli to make its way back to her parents. In a way she hoped news of their meeting would travel quickly. Then her parents would believe that she was following their wishes. At last the plan she and Ben had concocted was being set into motion.

Ben.
For the first time since the beginning of her conversation with Eli, his name barged into her head. She had gotten so wrapped up in Eli’s life story, she had almost forgotten about her second date for the evening. She tried to casually glance at her watch. She still had a little time before she needed to leave to meet Ben, but she had to stay on task.

“What?” Eli asked.

Evie looked up from her watch to see him staring at her, his brows arched. “What do you mean?”

“You looked like you were thinking hard about something. I just wondered what had captured you so intently.”

Evie smiled, hoping to hide her guilty sigh of relief. “Nothing. I just thought about how differently you and I see small-town life. I guess it helps if living in a big place is all you’ve ever known.”

Evie peered up at Eli through her eyelashes. How much of herself could she reveal before she got too personal? Words started to spill from her lips before she could consider the idea any further. “I’ve always wanted to live somewhere like New York or D.C. Somewhere people don’t know me or my story. Where my parents are unknown, middle-income people compared to the richness of the people around me. Somewhere I can blend into the background and escape the expectations of the small town.”

“Expectations like the ones your parents have about who you should marry?” Eli met her eyes with his and held her gaze steady.

“Yeah.” Suddenly she felt as though Eli could read her mind. A blush crept onto her cheeks. What would Eli say if he found out her interest in him was only a distraction created to keep her parents happy? He seemed like a nice enough guy. Was it really fair to trap him in such a scheme?

She shook her head. It was the only way. She could not help it if someone innocent got caught in the mix. Her parents should have thought about that before they insisted that she leave Ben and attach herself to this lawyer. Besides, was Eli not like her parents anyway? Had he not played along with their dinner scheme last week?

She worked to reset her motives. She could not get caught up in Eli’s ideas and future plans.
He’s a means to an end, that’s all,
she reminded herself. Glancing at her watch, she realized the time had almost gotten away from her for the second time that afternoon. She had agreed to meet Ben in half an hour, and it would take her a little more time than that to get to the restaurant.

“Oh, Eli,” she groaned, hoping she sounded regretful, “I promised my lab partner I would meet her so we could review our notes for our test next week. I really need to go.” She recited the “out” she’d rehearsed several times before arriving at the coffee house.

Eli looked at his watch, too. “I didn’t realize how late it was. I’m sorry for keeping you so long.”

In unison they scooted their chairs from the table, picked up their now empty cups, and moved toward the nearest trash can. Realizing they were reaching for the same thing at the same time, their eyes locked for a moment and they laughed.

“You first.” Eli gestured toward the garbage can.

“Thanks,” Evie replied, uncomfortable for the first time that day.

They started to part ways in the parking lot without another word when Eli called to her, “Hey, Evie.” She pivoted toward him. “I know you and Ben just broke up, but I was wondering…would you like to have dinner sometime?”

What a hypocrite,
she silently chastised him.
He talks about his ex’s interest only in his name, and isn’t that why he’s asking me out, for my name?
A quiet voice calmed her before she could comment sarcastically.
But isn’t this what you wanted, Evie? Isn’t this part of the plan?

Realizing Eli was still waiting for her response, she plastered on a shaky smile. “Sure, why not? It will make my parents happy, and maybe it will help me forget about Ben.” She regretted those last words when she saw the momentary pain on Eli’s face.

“I’ll call you then and see what night works,” he promised before adding, “Evie, I really enjoyed getting together today. Thanks.”

“Yeah, me, too,” she answered softly as guilt gnawed at her. She walked quickly back to her Beemer and peeked toward where Eli climbed into his sedan. He was so different from Ben. She guessed growing up in D.C. as the son of a politician had taught him how to carry on a conversation with anyone and how to appear to have a good time no matter how bored you were. Ben could never carry off even a half-hour coffee meeting with someone with whom he had nothing in common.

She grimaced as she remembered the pained silence that filled the room during his few visits with her parents, a prime example of his inability to carry on a light conversation. Ben wanted so desperately to make something of himself, to offer the life to her and their future children that he never had. But current events bored him while the latest ballgame of whatever sport completely enthralled him. Her parents’ interest in sports never moved past the college’s homecoming game and even then sometimes they were so caught up in socializing during the tailgate before the game they never actually made it to the field until well after half-time. In contrast to Ben, their interest in current events, particularly world health issues, dominated their conversations.

Evie shook her head. The glowing green numbers on the dashboard clock reminded her she would be late for the only date that mattered.

Just over a half hour later she arrived in the crowded parking lot of a rustic diner. The paint on the wooden building peeled in the damp fall weather. A flashing arrow sign proudly proclaimed the nightly special of chicken-fried steak and mashed potatoes. Secretly she thought about how comforting this traditionally Southern food would taste but then reminded herself of the extra pounds it would add and the arteries it would clog—all indoctrinations that stemmed from living with two doctors most of her life.

She eased through the gravel parking lot to an empty space almost hidden from view behind the building. She had seen Ben’s Honda on the other side of the lot but decided to park as far from him as possible. Her shiny BMW convertible stuck out among the sedans and mini-vans enough, so she did not need to draw attention to his vehicle as well. She pulled a scarf from her purse and tied it attractively around her shining blond hair to keep it from glowing too much in the headlights of the other vehicles pulling into the parking lot. It was starting to turn dark so early now.

With one last glance through the parking lot she climbed from her car and weaved through the other vehicles, her loafers crunching the gravel beneath her feet with every step. Her heart rate quickened as the headlights of another vehicle momentarily spotlighted her. She automatically turned her face away, hoping the driver would not recognize her.

“Man, I’m paranoid,” she whispered to herself. Would any of her parents’ friends actually come to a joint like this? Probably not, but their patients might, and she couldn’t take any chances. She grimaced as her hand slid on a greasy door handle. She held the offending hand away from her, wishing for a clean sink and soap. Something told her it wouldn’t be the only time that evening she would wish to wash away the grime of such a quaint restaurant.

But all thoughts of grimy hands and greasy door handles slid from her mind as she saw Ben. He sat in a corner booth in the back of the restaurant with a tall menu hiding all but his intense brown eyes. They sparkled as they locked with hers.

“Table for one, miss?” a tall, overly tanned woman asked, her voice husky and breath heavy with cigarette smoke. She stopped talking before Evie had a chance to really look, but she was almost certain several of the woman’s front teeth were missing.

Evie smiled politely. “No, I’m meeting someone,” she explained in a heavy Southern accent and headed toward the table where her sweetheart waited for her. As she approached, dodging servers with food-laden trays, she wondered if she looked okay. She had tried to downplay her fashion sense for the evening. She hadn’t felt so nervous about a date since the first night she and Ben went out. The butterflies in her stomach nose-dived when Ben winked at her.

“Hi,” she whispered as she finally sat opposite him.

“Hi, yourself,” he whispered in return as he moved the menu and showered her with a glowing smile. “You’re late,” he reminded her with an edge of scolding even though the smile never faded.

How could she tell him she was caught up in a date with another man? Sure, the date was Ben’s idea, but how would he react when he discovered she forgot about the time?

“I’m sorry,” she retorted and grimaced at her tone. She didn’t want the evening to start this way. They would have a lot of secret dinners over the next several months. She didn’t want to get off to a bad start. “Traffic was horrible,” she explained, hating the lie that escaped her lips.

Ben reached for her hand and clasped it in his. “I’m sorry, Evie. It’s just, I was afraid you had forgotten…or you had decided maybe the break-up was a good idea after all.”

Evie used her thumb to caress Ben’s hand. “No way. The break-up was pretend. We both know that, right?”

“Right.” Ben stared into Evie’s eyes for a second before he let go of her hand and turned back to the menu. “So what looks good? I’m thinking I’ll get the special: chicken-fried steak, French fries, and fried okra. It sounds like some good home cookin’.”

Evie’ suppressed a gag. How could he eat so much grease? She eyed the menu in front of her and frowned at the greasy fingerprints and dirt smudges on the slick laminated cover. Gingerly she opened the menu with two fingers and scanned the options with the menu laid flat on the table instead of holding it as Ben felt so comfortable doing. Everything started with the word
fried.
Buried in the middle of the menu she found a grilled chicken option that might do if she could substitute a salad for the fries.

She looked around at the other tables bubbling with conversation and activity. Families reached from one plate to another to test what each person ordered. Small groups of friends chatted merrily with the servers as though they were regulars. Evie wondered how all these people could return weekend after weekend and not suffer a heart attack from all the grease they ingested.

She glanced up at Ben to find him staring intently at her.

“So what do you think?”

“It’s,” she paused, looking for a complimentary word that would be somewhat truthful, “cozy.” She hoped Ben would buy her fake enthusiasm. Her tastebuds longed for the French café nestled on Main Street in their bustling college town. But her sorority sisters would surely see them there.
No chance of that here,
she thought sarcastically.

“No, I mean, what do you think about what you want to order?” A smile played on his lips.

“Oh.” Evie batted her eyelashes at him. “The grilled chicken looks good. Do you think I could get a salad instead of fries?”

“What, no fries?” Ben asked with mock disbelief as his smile widened into a full-fledged grin.

Evie’s body relaxed as the playful Ben she knew and loved revealed himself. “You know I don’t eat grease!” She giggled.

“I’m sure they will make the substitute. Just means more fries for me!”

“I don’t know how you can eat that stuff. Makes me sick just to think about it. Yuck!” She twisted her mouth in a sign of disgust.

“Hey, I eat at that pretentious
ooh la la
French place you like, and I don’t complain about it,” Ben threw back.
Is that a hint of anger in his words?
She wondered. “We’re on my turf now. At least give the place a chance.”

Evie suppressed the urge to roll her eyes.

At that moment the server returned to take their order.

“Could I substitute a salad for the French fries?” Evie asked with a sugary voice as she finished ordering the grilled chicken.

The server whose nametag read
Shelia
wrinkled her brow. “So you don’t want fries?” Dark roots showed beneath the woman’s brassy hair. The permed waves were held away from her face with hair clips and a pencil balanced carefully on her ear.

“No, I would rather have the salad.”

“That’ll cost you a dollar and eighteen cents extra,” she informed Evie as she pulled the pencil from behind her ear and held it over her order pad, waiting for Evie’s final decision before she made the notation.

Evie pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. “That’s fine,” she agreed and nodded to affirm it.

Shelia glanced at Ben as though his permission was needed as well. He nodded slightly, and she scribbled something on her pad. “What kind of dressing do you want? We got thousand island, ranch, French, Eyetalien…”

“None, please. Just bring a couple of lemons.”
What’s the point of passing on fries if I cover my salad with thick, gooey dressing?
Evie wondered as she attempted not to let her impatience with this un-health-conscious waitress show through her words.

The server stared at Evie for a minute, made a notation on her pad, and walked away without a word.

“What was that about?” Evie asked, arms crossed over her chest.

“What?”

“Is my word not good enough?” she spouted. “She thinks we can’t afford another dollar tacked on to the meal, or maybe it was the lemon juice instead of that horrid fat-filled dressing they serve?”

“Evie, you don’t have to be so snobby, you know,” he chided. “What’s gotten into you?”

She faced Ben and blinked hard. “What are you wearing?”

“What?” Ben’s brows lifted.

Evie stared, speechless. Ben’s wrinkled short-sleeved shirt was unbuttoned to show a gray T-shirt underneath. He tucked neither shirt into his jeans, which prevented her from seeing if he wore a belt. She couldn’t remember the last time he wore jeans on a date. He had always worn khakis, and when he went very casual, he added a neatly pressed pullover.