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“Torin can help me. We’ll discuss it. He can add to it.”
“The king will know you’re a part of it.”
I shrug. “That’s okay. But we can tell him that Torin sealed the deal.”
Jonah clears his throat. “That’s really great of you.”
“Well, maybe if Torin can prove that he’s doing a great job and is really dedicated, and that we can work together even without being married, the king will let up on the arranged marriage. Maybe then it won’t matter…” I trail off as I feel Jonah’s gaze on me.
“Maybe what won’t matter?” he asks. His voice is rough.
I swallow and stare down at my hands. “If Torin can show he’s ready to be king and we can prove our professional relationship is strong, maybe it won’t matter to the king who I fall in love with.”
In my peripheral vision, I see Jonah’s grip on the steering wheel tighten.
“You didn’t eat much at dinner,” he says, as he pulls to a stop at a traffic light.
Wow. Okay, I put that out there and he’s just going to avoid it entirely. And not even subtly. But he gripped the steering wheel. “I guess I don’t like veal as much as I thought.”
“Are you hungry?”
I think about it. I was focused on Canada and how getting the project to Cara could help us out of the arranged marriage and how that could mean Jonah and I could have a relationship. That is all way more important than eating.
But now that he’s asked, I realize I am. A thought occurs to me, and I reach out and grab his thigh. “Can we get pizza?”
He looks at me. “Really? You want pizza?”
“I want the pizza that you love when you come here. To the U.S. I mean. Do they have that kind here in D.C.?”
His leg muscle tenses under my hand. “They do. One of my two favorites, anyway.”
“I want to try that,” I tell him. “You rave about it, so it must be amazing.”
He looks over at me again and puts a hand on top of mine. He smiles. “I don’t know about that. But it is something I always try to have when I come.”
“Then let’s do that.”
He drives for two blocks without responding, then he seems to make a decision and nods and takes a left. “Okay. We’ll get pizza.” He’s quiet for a couple more blocks, but he keeps his hand on mine.
“I’m sorry that you haven’t had a great story,” he finally says.
“What do you mean?”
“You love collecting stories from people. People who are living different lives from yours.” He chuckles. “Which is just about everyone in the world. But I know that you tried to engage our stewardess in conversation on the plane. Her story about how she became a stewardess for the royal family was also boring.”
I nod. “It really was. How is that possible? How can her story not be interesting? And James tonight. How do you become one of the richest men in the world, interested in innovation and technology that could change things for entire countries, maybe even the whole world, and your story about that is boring? He’s really just a guy who saw a need for something and decided to make it. Which is great. The work he’s doing is wonderful, but it’s like he found out that people wanted to have bright purple bridges, so he went and painted a bunch of bridges purple. It’s nice, but it’s not really that interesting.”
“I agree. Surely he’s met some really fascinating people along the way. Or had a few weird things happen in the research. Orsomething,” Jonah says. “He could at least have told you those things.”
“Yeah.”
Jonah turns into the parking lot of a restaurant.
“We’re here. Mike’s. Let’s go get you some pizza.”
I have to move my hand, but he comes around to open the car door for me, and he settles his hand on my lower back as we head inside.
As we’re waiting at the small red and white checkered table in a corner for our pizza and cheesy bread to come out, Jonah pushes a big glass of water toward me, then leans back in his chair. He props one ankle on his opposite knee and lifts his bottle of beer to his lips. He takes a drink as he watches me sip from my water.