Page 122 of Faking the Shot
He laughed, and for a moment, she thought the evening could be salvaged. Maybe they could just ignore the significance of today’s date, and concentrate on the date itself, enjoy a meal, share more laughs…
But there remained things that needed to be said, and the longer she put it off the harder this would be.
“You look really beautiful,” Zac murmured.
“It’s the same dress I had on New Year’s Eve.”
“I know. I remember that night.”
Her eyes filled as his gaze said he remembered everything about that night. Their dance. Their kiss. The time when feelings had gotten real.
“Can I top up your drinks?” the waiter asked.
“I’m fine,” Ainsley said, and Zac also declined.
The room filled with murmurs, and another proposal. Clearly this was a popular place for expressing love on Valentine’s Day. But for all she’d learned about what real love looked like, she now knew what she’d been projecting wasn’t real love at all. She hadn’t been kind. She’d manipulated and lied. She had been fearful, selfish. This moment now was about trying to be brave and unselfish, for his benefit. She ducked her head, playing with the tablecloth.
Their meals were served, and thank goodness, the next few minutes could be glossed through with observations on their food, and how tasty and beautiful it was. That was no lie.
The waiter returned, and cleared their plates, and she looked across to see one of the newly-engaged couples murmur to each other. “Don’t bother them,” the woman murmured.
Ainsley pressed her lips together and glanced down. One guess whom they meant.
A cleared throat drew her attention up along with her fake smile. But then it struck her—why was she smiling at this couple she didn’t know, when she couldn’t find one for this man who had helped her through so much?
“We’re so sorry to bother you, but would it be okay if we get a photo with you, Zac?”
“Uh, we’re kind of—”
“See?” the woman hissed. “Nobody wants to be interrupted.”
“I just thought it’d be the perfect way to end our evening,” the man complained.
Ainsley swallowed. Found a smile. “I can take your picture if you like.”
“You would?”
She ignored Zac’s expression, focused on the couple’s joy. “Sure.”
“Actually,” their helpful waiter returned, “I can take a picture of all of you if you like.”
Ainsley sighed. So this would be their last photo together.
But no, after that picture was taken, it seemed to be invitation for a number of others to request theirs be taken too.
She could tell Zac was getting impatient, so she stood. “I’m sorry, but we have to go.”
Zac’s brows rose, in a silent inquiry as if questioning if she wanted dessert. She shook her head. The girl might need chocolate—woulddefinitelyneed chocolate after this conversation finally happened—but it seemed that would not take place today.
“I’m so sorry if those requests were out of line,” their waiter said. “I can organize a to-go dessert tray if you like.”
“Sure,” Zac said, as she said, “No thanks.”
He looked at her. “You don’t want dessert?”
“I don’t want to have to wait around—”
“We can bring it out straightaway,” the waiter hurried to say. “I’ll be right back.”