Honeymoon

Chapter 58

OVER A BOTTLE of Perrier-Jouët at the King Cole Bar, Brian Stewart regaled her with funny stories from his childhood. Nora listened and laughed. At the same time, she couldn’t help notice how a lot of them involved his family. The way Brian talked, she could tell how close they were. It made her jealous. In all her years shuttling from one foster care home to another, she was lucky if anyone even remembered her birthday.

Not that she was about to tell Brian any of that.

By this point in her life, Nora had perfected a made-up story of her upbringing. The architect father. The schoolteacher mother. The three of them living blissfully in the rolling hills of Litchfield, Connecticut. The more people she told, the more she was able to forget the truth. One day, she hoped, it would be as if her mother never really killed her father while Nora watched.

Over dinner at Vong, Brian switched to wine and Nora to Pellegrino. As they ate and drank, the two of them became increasingly cozy with each other. She was actually able to look at him without thinking of Brad Pitt. Brian was handsome enough in his own right.

Not to mention fun to be with, which wasn’t always the case with rich men. More times than not, the wealthy ones she met turned out to be exceedingly boring and incredibly full of themselves. Rich and exciting ones were hard to find. Which made Nora all the happier that she’d met Brian.

The feeling seemed mutual.

The way things were going, it looked as if they wouldn’t make it to Lotus for dancing. She tried to picture his apartment. Surely it would be huge, probably a penthouse. Maybe some kind of interesting loft space. She’d find out soon enough.

“Are you having a good time?” he asked.

“The best.”

He smiled. Except it wasn’t exactly a happy smile. Something was bothering him and he looked nervous.

Nora inched forward in her seat. “What’s wrong?”

He fidgeted with his dessert spoon, almost as if he were working up his nerve. Apparently, he was. “There’s something I have to tell you,” he said. “I have a confession to make.”

“Damn, you’re married.”

“No, I’m not married, Nora.”

“Then, what is it?” she asked.

His dessert spoon was getting a real workout now. “It’s something else I’m not,” he said. He finally put down the spoon and took a deep breath. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m not really a rich software developer.”

The words hung in the air, as did the silence that followed them. Nora was speechless. Brian’s face was red, and it wasn’t from the alcohol. His admission had sobered them both up.

“I’m telling you this because I couldn’t lie to you anymore,” he said.

“Why did you lie in the first place?”

“I was afraid you wouldn’t have been interested in me.”

Nora blinked. “What do you really do?” she asked.

“I’m an advertising copywriter.”

“Ah, you lie for a living. So, there were no venture capitalists waiting for you in Boston?”

“No, just a client. Gillette.”

She shook her head. “Let me get this straight—you thought the only way I’d like you was if you were rich?”

“I guess I did.”

“Or was it because you thought that was the only way I’d sleep with you for one night—as in tonight?”

“That’s not true.”

She shot him a dubious look. “Really?”

“Okay, it’s a little bit true,” he admitted. “At least at first. Like I said, though, I couldn’t lie to you anymore.”

“Is anything that you’ve told me true?”

“Yes. Everything, as a matter of fact. Everything except the part about being fabulously wealthy. I’m sorry I lied,” he said. “Can you forgive me?”

Nora paused, if only for effect, before reaching over and taking his hand. “Yes,” she said. “I can forgive you. I do forgive you, Brian.”

A few minutes later, when all seemed well again, she excused herself from the table to use the ladies’ room. It was in the front of the restaurant. As she walked by it and headed out the door to hail a cab home, Nora wondered briefly how long it would take Brian to realize she wasn’t coming back.