“I’m kind of busy and—”
“Look, I thought we should get to know each other better,” he said.
She wasn’t sure she wanted to know him better, although that would certainly please her mother. And he was offering her a free meal, which was ten times better than staying home making a to-do list filled with things she wouldn’t actually do.
“Okay,” she said. “Rafferty’s is fine. What time?”
“You mean you’ll actually have dinner with me?” He sounded truly surprised that she’d accepted his offer. Probably because he’d been so unpleasant last week.
Which was the point, wasn’t it? Having dinner with her wasn’t his idea. Someone—probably Jim—had put him up to it. And Jim had done that because Mom had complained about him. She couldn’t let him off the hook, could she? He needed to do penance.
“Of course I want to have dinner with you. I mean you’re going to be my stepbrother, right?” She had to work hard to sound all happy and bubbly about this prospect.
“Yeah, I guess. So, um, I’ll meet you at Rafferty’s in half an hour?” He didn’t sound happy or bubbly.
“Sure.”
An hour later, after a shower and a change of clothes, Ella strolled into Rafferty’s Raw Bar, the biggest restaurant on Harbor Drive. The bar area and patio were completely overrun with college kids celebrating spring break, but the back dining room wasn’t nearly as crowded.
Dylan sat at a corner table, looking like a card-carrying member of the Young Republicans Club. Did the guy own anything other than a white shirt and bow tie? Maybe she should start calling him Doctor Dull. Although the smile he sent in her direction was pretty nice. He was handsome and clean-cut, and his teeth were really white against his tan. He looked as if he spent time outside. Living in Magnolia Harbor, he probably loved sailing or fishing. Now that she thought about it, he looked exactly like a member of the yacht club.
He lifted his gaze. Was he judging her faded jeans and favorite peasant shirt? Or was he annoyed because she’d kept him waiting? Did he realize she was late on purpose?
His eyes were blue, but not nearly as brilliant as his father’s. And he didn’t wear his emotions on his face the way Jim did, so he was hard to read.
“Hi,” she said, slipping into the chair facing him.
“You’re late.”
She shrugged. “Sorry. I was all dusty from packing stuff in Granny’s attic. I needed a shower.”
“You want a beer or something?” he asked. His half-empty glass suggested he’d been waiting a while. Good.
“I could go for some wine.”
He waved at a passing waitress, who immediately stopped in her tracks. Doctor D gave the impression that he ate at Rafferty’s a lot and was a fave among the female waitstaff. And why not? He was all buttoned up and smoothed down, except for a little curl of dark hair that fell over his forehead Superman style. It suggested that his Clark Kent identity was a flimsy disguise for something else altogether.
But what?
She ordered a glass of rosé and one of Rafferty’s Caesar salads. Dylan ordered the biggest steak on the menu, which surprised her since he looked fit and trim and was also a doctor. But then, who said doctors couldn’t eat red meat?
“So,” he said, when the waitress left them, “I want to apologize.” His words sounded totally rehearsed.
“What exactly are you apologizing for?” she asked, lobbing the conversational ball back into his court.
He pressed his lips together for a moment, telegraphing surprise. He must not have expected that she would challenge his apology.
After a too-long moment, he finally said, “The other day, when we met to discuss the engagement party, I shouldn’t have said what I did about Dad moving into your mother’s beach house.”
“You only told me the truth. There’s no need to apologize for that.”
“Maybe it was the truth, but it wasn’t my place to tell it. And besides, I was being…” His voice trailed off.
“What?” she asked. He seemed almost contrite. Did he get it? Really?
“I’m sure I left you with the impression that I’m unkind.”
So typical. Instead of talking about her feelings, he was talking about himself. She was so tired of guys who did that. Cody was a master of this particular game. He never really apologized for anything.
“Look,” she said, leaning forward. “I can deal with the truth. And being nice to me now isn’t going to convince me to help you break up Mom and Jim. So save your breath, okay?”
Their gazes locked, and his eyes turned midnight blue, but without any stars in them.
“I understood you the first time you told me that,” he said.
“Good. Now, just so we’re clear, I know why you asked me here for dinner. It’s because I told Mom what you said last week, and she told Jim, and then your father demanded that you come apologize. So let’s just drop it, shall we?”
He had the temerity to give her another smile, this one without flashing his beautiful teeth. She liked this one better. It was kind of sexy, which was a little startling since he was going to be her stepbrother.
“You’ve read the situation accurately,” he said.
“Of course I did. I know how Mom’s mind works.”
* * *
Dylan snatched his beer from the table and took a couple of big gulps while he regrouped. Ella was not the sensitive little thing Dad thought she was. She was, in fact, kind of incredible.
And just like that, he realized he’d been looking at this situation from the wrong end of the telescope. He’d misstepped with his opening gambit. Trying to make her angry about the living situation had only stiffened her resolve to support her mother.
He should have worked to win her trust first because if she trusted him, she might divulge important clues to her mother’s personality and give him exactly what he needed to expose Brenda as the absolutely wrong
