Chapter Six
It became normal for me and Daniel to eat lunch together at work. It reached the point where he longer had to call me; I'd habitually get up and walk to his office every day at eleven-thirty, and a subtly scowling Alice would take our orders. He must have eaten at every place in a ten-mile radius. He always had recommendations, and they were always good. Before long, he would greet me with a kiss on the cheek, right in front of Alice. I could practically feel her trying to strangle me with her mind. Oddly enough, all I felt was triumph.
"You know," I said to him one day, over a plate of falafel and shawarma, "all the women in the office absolutely hate me now." He looked up. "And some of the men."
He just laughed. "Well, that's not very charitable of them."
"I can't wait for the reactions once we get…engaged." I still had a hard time spitting the word out. "I'm going to need a police escort just to get to the copy machine."
"Eye daggers aren't actually deadly, you know." He tore off a piece of pita bread and dipped it into a little pool of hummus. "No matter how sharp."
"I guess."
"Are you going to tell your parents?"
There it was. I'd kept pushing that question to the back of my mind, but I was going to have to confront it eventually. "I'm not sure," I admitted, pushing some lettuce around on my plate. "We haven't really talked in a while. If I just call them out of the blue, and tell them I'm engaged…"
"They'll find out eventually, won't they? One way or another. Isn't it best that they hear it from you directly?"
He was right. The contract did stipulate that I had to change my relationship status on any social networking sites - which was only reasonable - and I was online "friends" with quite a few people who knew my parents. There was no chance I'd be able to skate by on that one.
Truth was, I'd kept most of my relationships secret from my parents. They were so probing and critical of most things I did, and I never wanted to go through all the hassle of trying to introduce them to someone, only to turn around later and inform them that we'd broken up. "But why? What happened? What did you do? Did you say something that scared him off? Maybe if you lost a few pounds…I mean, you're an attractive girl, but competition is fierce out there…"
I shuddered a little. The idea of telling them I was going to marry a billionaire only to tell them in a year that we were getting divorced…it was horrifying. But I had no choice, if I wanted to through with this. Surely two million dollars was worth enduring a few awkward phone calls.
We ate the rest of our lunch in silence that day. Daniel was aware he'd touched on a nerve, and he didn't bring the subject up again.
Late Friday afternoon, he came by my cubicle just as I was packing up my things. Thankfully, Florence had already cut out for the day.
"I'd like to take you to dinner tonight," he said, and there was something very meaningful in his eyes. Oh, God. This was it, wasn’t it? He was going to propose to me. In public, I was sure. He had to make a spectacle of it.
"Okay," I said, my heart already fluttering in my chest.
"Be ready at seven o'clock."
The midnight blue dress was still in its plastic bag from the cleaner's, hanging in the back of my closet. I hadn't expected to need it again so soon. I pulled it out when I got home, quickly showered and dried my hair, and zipped myself up in it. It still looked fantastic, even when paired with a haunted, thousand-yard stare.
I wasn’t ready for this. But I didn't exactly have a choice.
I clasped the necklace on and slipped in the earrings, pondering what I should do with my hair. Simply leaving it down didn't seem to befit the occasion, but it was stubborn. If I tried to put it up in something, I'd be fighting with it all night. The downside to naturally thick, glossy hair was that it was improbably heavy and slippery. I'd yet to meet a band or clip that could hold it, and I hated hairspray with a fiery passion.
Nothing for it, then. I brushed it thoroughly and let it fall around my shoulders, hoping I wouldn't look horribly out of place in whatever insanely expensive restaurant he was taking me to.
The driver was punctual as always, and this time, I was surprised to see Daniel already in the back seat waiting for me.
"Hello, Maddy," he said, looking at me approvingly. It had to be put on. No real date of his would wear the same dress more than once. But he hadn’t said a word about it, so I tried not to worry.
"I'm sorry," I muttered, as I settled into the seat next to him. "This is the only fancy thing I have."
"Don't worry," he said. "You still look as stunning as ever."
I rolled my eyes.
The driver was watching us and chuckling to himself.
"She can't take a complement gracefully, this one," said Daniel. "It's tragic."
"Well, you'll just have to work on that, sir."
"I will, John. Don't you worry."
I sank deeper into the Italian leather and tried not to look miserable.
"What's the matter, darling?" Daniel said, finally, squeezing my shoulder gently.
"I don't know," I said. "I guess I'm just tired."
"Well, you'll forget all about it when we get where we're going."
There was something different in the tone of his voice, now that he was talking to me in front of John. Something a little…distant, maybe. Aloof? Uncaring, even. I was beginning to put the pieces together - how he must live large portions of his life, or maybe all of his life, striving to fulfill the expectations that were placed on him.
Poor little rich boy. I smirked at myself. Was I really trying to feel sorry for him? The man who could buy a space shuttle?
Man, I was really getting fixated on those shuttles. Maybe it was the summer moon shining so brightly every night that had me dwelling on space travel.
"Did you ever want to go to the moon when you were a kid?" I blurted out, sitting up straighter and looking at him.
His face broke into a smile - a genuine one. "What?"
"It's a simple question. Did you ever want to go to the moon?"
He shrugged. "It's just a rock. A giant rock out in the middle of nothing. What's to see?"
"Yeah, you know that now. But when you were a kid. Didn't you ever look at it, and marvel at how close it was, and think man, I'd really like to go there. It looks like it's so close, like you could just jump in the car and drive there in a few minutes." I looked out of the window; it was waxing, big and round, glowing just above the tallest buildings. "Doesn't it?"
"Honestly…" he squinted at it. "Well. Maybe."
"See? I used to imagine climbing the tallest trees around my house to try and get there. I knew it wouldn't work, even when I was little, but I just wanted to go there so badly. Just to do it. I don’t know why. I know there's nothing there. I'd just like to be able to experience it, once in my life."
"Well, you know, space tourism is under development as we speak. You may yet have a chance."
Hell - he was right. If I was wise with my profits from this whole venture, I might be able to actually afford a trip to the moon someday. What an insane idea. My childhood dream, that I thought for sure would never come true. I really could have anything I wanted.
"I'll make sure to put it on my Christmas list," I said, leaning back in my seat.
The drive was a short one, taking us to a place downtown that I'd walked past many times, never even considering the possibility that I might eat there someday. It was sleek and elegant, more along the lines of what I had been expecting on our first date. While the Inn was lovely and comfortable, this looked more like the sort of place a high-powered businessman would propose to his supermodel wife.
Or me, as the case might be.
When we pulled up to the curb, Daniel jumped out of the car and quickly ran to my side, opening my door before I had a chance. He gave me his hand to help me out. As we walked arm-in-arm up the steps that led to the entrance, I could feel eyes on me.
I really should have gotten my hair done.
The host looked up and smiled when we walked in the door. "Mr. Thorne, we have your table right over here. Please follow me."
I had never felt more awkward in my life - and that was saying something. Walking between the booths and tables of the fanciest restaurant in the city, I tried to keep my eyes focused on the wall directly in front of me, but I knew people were watching me. Of course they were. Who wouldn't? I looked like a little girl playing dress up in Mommy's fancy clothes. It was absurd to think I could ever fit in an environment like this. No matter how much money Daniel spent on me, I'd always stand out as someone who was just pretending.
"Here you are, sir. Ma'am." The host handed us our menus. "Your server will be with you in a moment."
"Thank you, Tom." Daniel laid his menu down on the table, unopened. "Before you decide on anything, I recommend waiting to hear the specials. They're always seasonal and fresh as it gets."
"Thanks," I said. I didn't feel like looking at my menu anyway. I didn't feel like eating, for that matter.
The server came back shortly, prattling on about braised this and locally grown that. I ordered something I hardly understood, and he came back shortly with a bottle of white wine. As he poured us both a glass, I forced a smile at Daniel, acutely aware that we were being watched. Hopefully, if I looked strange, it would pass as the anxiety of a woman who was expecting to be proposed to, but was still unsure if it would really happen or not.
"Nice place, isn't it?" Daniel said, and I realized that I hadn't spoken in a long time.
"Yes," I said. "It's very…it's very classy."
"Not the sort of place you eat every day." Daniel poured himself a second glass of wine. "But, it's nice for special occasions."
"You could eat here every day," I said. "If you wanted to."
He looked down at his napkin, unfolding and spreading it over his lap with exaggerated slowness so he wouldn't have to meet my eyes. To anyone listening it would probably sound like an innocent comment, but he and I both knew it was calculated to annoy him.
He didn't speak again until our entrées came. I had some sort of fish that was perfectly done, sweet and flaky, with crisp young asparagus and risotto on the side. I ate as much of it as I could manage, even though it seemed to turn to sand in my mouth. My throat was very dry. I finished the last of the wine, and Daniel gestured for another bottle.
After our plates were cleared away and we ordered dessert, he finally seemed to have relaxed a bit. He started talking again as if we were really just a couple on a date.
"Do you really want to go to the moon?" His eyes were sparkling with amusement.
"I mean…yeah. I thought everybody did."
He shook his head. "I don't think so. But I really hope you can, someday."
"I always wanted to go to space camp when I was a kid, but it was always too expensive." I laid my fork down on my plate, leaving my tiramisu half-uneaten. It was inevitable that there would be an awkward silence every time the topic of money came up. I wasn’t sure which one of us was more to blame for it, but it was almost palpable every time. I shook my head and tried to think of an appropriate change of subject.