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She’s sorry? “For what?”
“Kissing you,” she whispers, still looking down, her shoulders hunched forward. “He said to kiss and I thought-”
“No, no, it’s fine. It’s my fault. I wasn’t prepared.” I run a hand through my hair, pulling at it, an odd weight settling in my stomach. “I- I’ve never done anything like this before.”
She finally raises her head, a sheen of wetness in her eyes, and my hand makes a strange twitching motion, almost as if it wants to reach out to her.
“This PDA doesn’t come natural to me,” I continue. “I’ve always been carefulnotto be photographed with a woman. I don’t need the media linking me with anyone, getting the wrong impression. I need to… retrain myself, I guess. It’s not anything about you.”
She bites her lip, still wary. “I was just doing what I thought you’d want me to.”
“I did want you to.” Her eyes widen, and I quickly amend my statement. “I mean, it’s what we’re supposed to do. It’s the point of all this.”
I set this in motion with my outburst at the altar, and now I need to back it up.
“I appreciate everything you’ve done so far. Moving into my apartment, meeting me for lunch, coming with me tonight. Even though it’s only been two days, you’ve already rearranged your schedule, your life, for this.”
She tucks her hair behind her ears, her mouth finally curving in a small smile. “It’s not a problem.”
“Maybe we can go over those ground rules-”
“Mr. Bishop!”
Fuck. Can I get a minute alone with her to get on the same page?
I turn to find a woman in a red pantsuit up ahead waving excitedly as she approaches. “Thank you so much for coming.” She shakes my hand, her grip surprisingly firm. “We’re incredibly grateful for Bishop Industries’ donation.”
“We’re happy to donate to worthy causes.” Not that I have any idea what we actually donated tonight. It’ll be in some report I review later this week.
“And is this your date?” she asks, gazing up at Serena.
Wow. The one person in New York who doesn’t read the tabloids. “My wife.”
“Oh, of course. My apologies. I didn’t realize…”
“It was recent.” To put it mildly.
“Well, we have your table set up front and center.” She motions toward the open double doors that lead to the main area, and I internally sigh, knowing I won’t be able to speak privately with Serena once we’re in there.
“Thanks. We’ll be in soon.”
I wait until she walks away before turning back to Serena, tucking my hands in my pockets. “Every time I try to talk about rules, I get interrupted.”
“Maybe it’s a sign.”
I frown, unsure what she means.
“This is a new situation. For both of us.” She gives a soft smile, hugging her shawl tighter around her. “I think we’ll have to discover our own path. There are no right or wrong answers.”
The back of my neck prickles, but I resist the urge to scratch at it. No rules?
“So… I guess we’re winging it then?”
“It seems that way.”
Well… fuck.