“Riiiight,” I say before leaning back in my chair.
“I think it’s lovely that you work-out and keep such a nice figure,” Ma says.
“What kind of working out do you do in an outfit like that?” I ask.
“It’s a Pilates spin-off. You know, working with resistance.”
“Resistance? How do you do that?”
“With exercise balls, and various elastic straps.”
I rest my elbow on the table and rest my chin in my hand. After she’s had a bit of time to fidget, I tilt my chin up and soften my expression to give her, what has been termed, my panty-decimating smile.
I clear my throat. “Really, balls and straps?”
She shakes her head briskly. “It’s a great workout. I swear,” she says sounding a bit frantic.
“Well, I’d really like to see that sometime. You and this resistance thing.”
In the downcast light of the light fixture over the table I can see her cheeks are turning hot pink.
“Me too,” says Patrick the dork. He has no fucking clue what’s going on.
Elle looks like she’s just steps away from losing her cool entirely.
It’s at this point my dad announces that he’d love some of that pie Elle brought. Ma jumps up and starts clearing dishes. After they gesture at Trisha and I, we pick up the cue to help clear too.
Dad pushes his chair back. “What would everyone like with dessert? Tea, coffee? I think I’d like a hot toddy with the pie? How about you, Millie?”
Ma nods her head.
The way the three of them scurry to the kitchen it’s obvious that it’s a ploy to get Patrick alone with Elle.
He keeps nervously folding and unfolding his napkin in his lap. I turn toward him. “Hey, Patrick, show Elle the animal shapes you can fold out of napkins.”
She turns to him with a bewildered expression.
“When I was in school I worked summers at the country club,” he explains to Elle.
My work here is done, I think as he clears a space on the table to fold his napkin.
Everyone is bustling about the kitchen as I lean against the pantry door. While I sip my beer, Ma keeps peeking through the crack in the door to spy on Patrick and Elle.
“Oh, he just folded his rabbit!” Ma says to Dad.
Even Trisha rolls her eyes.
“What do you imagine she thinks?” Dad asks.
“Well, she’s smiling at him. I think it’s good. It shows he’s not just about numbers and tax write-offs.”
Oh for fucks sake. He’s folding a fucking napkin in the shape of a rabbit.
Ma peeks again and then turns back to us. “He got up and left the room. Paulie, go ask if she’d like a spot of tea or some coffee. I don’t think she should have a toddy since she’ll be driving.”
“Sure thing, Ma.”
“Hey, Elle,” I say as casually as possible as I approach the table.
She sits up straight and pulls her shoulders back when she sees me.
“Hi Paulie.”
“So where’s Patrick? Did you scare him off with your dirty mouth?”
She gives me a stern look and shakes her head before glancing toward the kitchen door that’s still closed.
“He got an emergency text from a client, so he excused himself to email them some documents.”
“That’s Patrick!” I say with a grin.
“He’ll be back very soon.”
“Sure he will.”
I pull out Patrick’s chair and flip it around before I straddle it and sit, resting my arms across the back of the chair.
She turns to study me, her expression full of apprehension.
I lean as close to her as I can without tipping the chair over.
“So what’s with the get-up?” I ask with a low voice.
She shrugs. “Whatever do you mean?”
I wave my hand over her outfit. “The librarian get-up. It’s so . . . unexpected.”
She looks away but I notice the corners of her mouth turn up. “I guess I’m just full of surprises.”
“And you bake pie from scratch, and can charm the pants of my parents with a single smile.”
“All good things, I’d say.”
“I guess so. But where’s Vamp Elle? Where’s she hiding?” I lift the edge of her long skirt up a bit and pretend to peek underneath. “Is she hiding under this granny skirt?”
She slaps my hand away.
“You think you know me so well.”
“I mean, don’t get me wrong, librarians are hot. I slept with one once who was smoking.”
“Is this during the man-whore days?”
I nod. “She talked a lot while we screwed, and she had a dirty mouth like you except she used a lot of big fancy words, too.”
“Is that so? Is this supposed to be of interest to me?”
She crosses her legs and when she does her skirt slides up and I swear I see a hint of a garter holding up her stocking.
Oh damn, does she know that garters and stockings are my weakness?
My voice breaks a little when I lean toward her even closer. “Why are you messing with me, Elle?”
She folds her arms over her chest. “How am I messing with you?”
“My brother? Really?” My fingers tighten over the top of the chair. “Do you honestly think he’s going to give you the hot sex you’re searching for?”
“Looks can be deceiving, you know.”
“Well tonight, that line certainly applies to you, but Patrick is pretty much a what-you-see-is-what-you-get kind of guy.”
“I’ll find that out for myself, thank you.”
I lean back and grind my teeth. “Why are you trying to make me jealous? And not even over someone worth being jealous about?”
Her eyes widen. “Jealous? You don’t want me. Why would you care if he does?”
I growl with frustration. “Like it’s that simple.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Next time you come over I won’t be here. It just messes with me being close to you.”
“How so?”
“I’m a man, Elle. Just because I’m trying to abstain doesn’t mean I don’t desire you.”
She bites her lip. “And being close to me stirs that up?”
“If I had my way right now, I’d push all of these dishes over, lift you up until your ass was on the table and then I’d have you for dessert.”
She swallows hard. “Dessert?”
“I bet you’d be extra sweet.”
Elle loops her index finger under the collar of her sweater and then pulls it away from her flushed skin.
“Please . . . stop. It’s cruel to tease me like this.”
“So I’m getting to you?”
I can hear her short breaths and her eyes look wild. “Paul,” she whispers.
I notice footsteps behind me.
“Paul, what are you doing?”
I look up to see Patrick sliding his cell phone back into his shirt pocket.
“Keeping Elle company.” I slowly lift myself off the chair and turn it back to face the table. “She was sitting out here all by her lonesome self and I felt bad about it.”
“Well, I’m back now,” Patrick says right as the rest of the family joins us with the pie and clean plates.
We all dig into what could be the best apple pie I’ve ever eaten. I’m even considering helping myself to a third piece when Elle announces she needs to get going. She explains that she has an event meeting first thing in the morning.
Although I’m not sure what kind of meeting that is, it gives Elle a new dimension to think she has important work to attend to. I must be an ass because I’ve never asked about her job or career. How lousy is that?
Patrick, the gentleman, stands up to pull out her chair. He insists on walking her out to her car but first she has to have the royal McNeill send off. Ma gives her one of her crushing hugs, the kind where you end up buried in her bosom and unable to catch your breath. Thank God for the growth spurt that assured I’d never be victim of the ample bosom hug again. Elle isn’t so lucky and she gasps for a breath when Ma finally releases her.
She gets more of the same from Dad. “Hope to see you again soon, lass,” he says with a wink and nod to Patrick.