Page 14 of Too Good to Be True

Seth

S omeone knocks at the bathroom door. “Uncle Seth?” Logan’s voice calls. “Are you all right?”

“Sure, honey. I’m fine.”

“You’ve been locked in there for a while.”

“I’ll be out in a second.”

“OK.”

I get up from the toilet on which I have been sitting for some time, staring into space and imagining at least ten disastrous scenarios for this evening and my immediate future, and look at myself in the mirror once more.

“What the hell am I doing? Am I really going to pretend to like my lawyer?” I ask to my reflection.

Not that it is that difficult. It’s not at all. And maybe that’s the problem.

How can I pretend to like him when I really like him too much?

“What a mess!” I say again to my mirror image. “Can’t I get anything right?”

“Uncle Seth?” This time, it’s Mason calling.

“Coming!” I open the door to find my niblings standing in front of me, waiting. “I’m ready.” I walk past them and into the living room. Then I turn around. “How do I look?”

“Fabulous as always,” Emily says immediately, making me smile.

I look at Logan and Mason.

“You’re fine,” Logan says diplomatically.

Instead, Mason gives an exaggerated shrug.

“And you? Let me look at you.”

“Why do you care so much?” Logan asks.

“What are you talking about?”

“You dressed up, and you got us dressed up, too.”

“What do you mean…” I minimise badly. “I wore the first thing that came to hand.”

My niblings look at me suspiciously.

I look at myself for a moment. I’m wearing a pair of jeans, nothing fancy.

Definitely, my go-to jeans—the ones that perfectly wrap around my ass and thighs—and my lucky shirt, a sheer pink top with embroidered flowers in place of buttons.

I’ve shaved and combed my hair the way I do at the club, with my hair pulled back, and maybe put on a little perfume.

Nothing special.

“Uncle Seth,” Mason calls my attention.

I was distracted; I have to admit.

“Yes?”

“You don’t like him, do you?”

“What?”

“Who, you mean,” Logan says.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, Uncle Seth. We’ve seen the way you look at him,” Emily says.

“Who are you talking about?”

All three of them crossed their arms over their chests at the same time. Just like Mark used to do when he questioned me about something I didn’t want to talk about.

“We have to pretend, don’t we?” I shrug nonchalantly.

Yes. I told the children the truth. I always tell my niblings the truth. Besides, they’re not na?ve. I couldn’t have fooled them. They quickly realised that Rowan was just trying to stop them from taking the children away from me.

A noble gesture. Generous. Foolish.

A gesture I still can’t explain.

“You really like him, though,” Emily states.

I just said that, didn’t I? My niblings are anything but na?ve.

“Um… Well… In a way…”

And I just said that I always tell them the truth, or at least something close to it.

“Does he even... like men?” Logan asks hesitantly.

“Yes and no.”

“What do you mean?” Logan asks again.

“It means he likes men and women.”

“I don’t understand,” Emily wrinkles her forehead.

“It means Rowan is bisexual,” Mason explains. “So he likes men and women equally.”

“Ahh,” Emily exclaims.

“That changes everything,” Ross says in surprise on the doorstep.

“And when did you get in?”

“Just in time”. He enters the living room and sits down on the sofa. “Please don’t stop now.”

I laugh and shake my head. “It doesn’t change anything. Even if he likes men, it doesn’t mean that… I mean, you all know what a mess I was and… what a mess I still am.”

“Don’t put yourself down like that, Uncle Seth,” Emily says, hugging me. “To us, you’re the best.”

“Thank you, darling.”

“Maybe our marble-ass lawyer thinks so, too.”

I glance at Ross, who shrugs.

“I don’t think Rowan could ever… you know… Someone like him with someone like me, can you imagine?” I laugh nervously. “It’s just… fiction.”

“For him, maybe… But for you?” Ross asks.

“Stop it now.”

“I’m just trying to keep you from getting hurt.”

“I always get hurt, with or without your warnings.”

“That’s true, but this time… I don’t know.”

“This time it’s no different.”

“Hmm…”

“No ‘hmm’. Don’t put things in my head, I’m already enough confused.”

“You’re right. Sorry.”

“Have you told Mr Yang that we are ready?” I ask the children.

“Let’s go now.” All three of them move to the door and then to the landing to call Mr Yang.

“Quite a guy, our lawyer…” Ross continues, provoking a glare from me that he deserves it all. “Invite me and Mr Yang too.”

“Rowan says you are family.”

“Rowan says that?” Ross jokes.

This time, he gets a nice middle finger in addition to my disapproving look.

He laughs, then stands up and looks at me from head to toe. “I see we’ve put on your to-go uniform.”

“Go to hell!” I walk past him and reach the entrance to answer the intercom that has just gone off.

“We’ll be right there!” I say to Rowan, already more excited than is humanly possible.

“Are you a bit nervous?”

“You’re no help at all. You know that, don’t you?”

“And when am I?”

“That’s also true, but I would appreciate it if you made a little effort this time.”

“I can try, but I can’t promise you anything.”

“That’s something.” I cross the landing and knock on Mr Yang’s door.

“And you?” Ross speaks, and I turn to him. “Can you try not to fall in love with our sexy lawyer?”

No need to lie. I have a self-destructive tendency, and this is another example.

“I can try, but I can’t promise anything.”

“I HOPE THIS place is okay,” Rowan says, sitting next to me at the table.

Rowan took us to Bar Italia, a restaurant in the city centre on Ormond Quay. Luckily, we could walk there.

“We were talking about pizza,” Emily reminds him.

“Pizza, pasta, whatever you want.”

“I love Italian food,” Ross comments. “But I’ve never been here.”

I look around, admiring what is clearly an Italian restaurant. Neon signs, language signs, expensive-looking wine bottles on display, and the unmistakable images of a country I have always wanted to visit. Bright, warm colours that scream comfort and home.

“Looks like a really nice place, doesn’t it, guys?” I immediately ask their opinion.

“As long as we eat,” says Mason, practical as ever.

“I’m looking forward to trying something different,” Logan says, looking at the menu.

“I’m here for the pizza,” Emily clarifies her position again.

“Excuse her,” I feel compelled to say to Rowan.

“And for what?” He picks up the napkin that was next to his plate and gently places it on his lap. I immediately imitate his gesture, hoping to… I don’t know what I’m hoping for. To look like a man he might like?

I have to be honest. Since he confided in me he’s bisexual, I can’t think of anything else.

What if he really likes me? What if he is one of those men who can see beyond the surface? What if he is one of those people who is willing to give others a chance?

“Are you OK?”

“Hmm?”

“You looked lost.”

“Oh, sorry, that’s normal.”

Rowan frowns.

“Uncle Seth is often distracted,” says Emily, the voice of truth.

“That’s not entirely true,” I defend myself weakly. “And anyway, I don’t get distracted when it comes to important things,” I assert firmly.

“I hope not, because what we are about to do…” A veil of worry falls over his perfectly chiselled face. “This is no joke.”

“I know.”

“I’m putting my career on the line.”

“I am aware of that, and I am truly sorry that you have reached this point.”

“Don’t think about it now.” He turns towards the room, as if to avoid my gaze. “Let’s enjoy dinner. We’ll deal with the rest later.”

“OK.”

“Mr Yang,” Rowan addresses him directly. “What do you think of this restaurant?”

“I’ll tell you after I taste this carbonara,” he says, having already studied the menu, unlike me.

Rowan smiles at him diplomatically.

“I think…” I pick up the menu and glance at it. “I’ll take… everything?” My niblings laugh. “How can you choose? It all looks so tempting…”

“This place is very good,” Rowan confirms.

“Do you come here often?” I ask him, now more than interested. After all, we have to pretend to be together. How can I do that well without knowing anything about him?

“Sometimes. I don’t usually eat out.”

“Mmm… I thought you were a guy who didn’t cook.”

“And what made you think that?”

“Well, you work long hours. I guess you don’t have much time.”

“That’s true, but I usually eat in the same place. A salad bar just around the corner from the office. Practical and healthy.”

“So tonight you will take…”

“One of their salads.”

“You care about your figure.”

“I like to be fit and healthy.”

“Well said!” Mr Yang comments from across the table.

I was under the illusion that our conversation was private, but apparently, everyone can hear us.

“Too bad…”

“What?”

“I was going to ask you to share something so we could try more courses…”

I look at him. Rowan studies my expression for a moment.

“But it doesn’t matter. I mean, these are your routines. I wouldn’t want you to change them just because I can’t make up my mind.”

I look at the menu again. The heat from the embarrassment of trying to bribe my upstanding lawyer spreads over my neck and face.

“What did you have in mind?” Rowan asks in surprise. His deep, penetrating voice almost sets me on fire.

It may be fiction, but the effect it has on me is more than real.

“Well, there’s this bruschetta with calamari, and this salmon with burrata di bufala, which I don’t know what it is, but it sounds like something ecstatic—then the panzerotti with porcini mushrooms, not to mention these strozzapreti, which I have no idea what they are, but I’ve got to try them. ” I look up from the menu.

Rowan smiles.

“What is it?”

“Order anything you want.”

“Oh no, you don’t have to, really…”

“It’s good to indulge in a sin now and then.”

Don’t talk about sins, for God’s sake! Or they’ll have to clear the whole restaurant for fire.

“Don’t feel obliged.”

“I don’t feel like it. I want to do it.”

A na?ve and childish hope makes its way through me, fast and dangerous.