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Chapter twenty-six

Chris

T o Anna’s right is a middle-aged woman with spiky silver hair and dangly earrings who introduces herself as a local supplier, Mrs. Short. Her husband and work partner, a large man with equally silver hair shakes our hands as well. On the other side of us are a group of younger guys who tell us they are here from a nearby trades college as nominees for a scholarship award for their outstanding work during a cooperative work term. Not long after I pour Anna a glass of red wine that matches her dress the mic squeals, drawing groans and chuckles from around the room. After a brief and laughably corny speech, tables are called for the buffet supper. Anna clutches my hand under the white tablecloth, and I smooth circles over her skin with my thumb. Everyone at this table must think I either love buffets or I’m totally smitten with my date. Can it be both? The young guys here for the scholarships are shovelling down their food and already talking about seconds but the couple next to Anna are better conversationalists.

“How long have you two been together?” she asks.

Anna reaches for her wine and takes a long sip, washing down her bite of food. I take the opportunity to answer for her.

“Well, Mrs. Short, we met about a year and a half ago. Can you believe it’s been that long already, honey?”

Anna nods. “Time flies.”

Mrs. Short looks interested so I continue.

“But it really wasn’t until recently that she decided to take a chance on me.”

“Is that so? What was she doing holding out on such a handsome man like you?”

Mr. Short shakes his head jovially like he’s used to his wife’s talkative nature and antics. I can tell who is the salesperson in the relationship.

“Oh, Mrs. Short—”

“Please. Call me Kitty. ”

I slide my hands a couple inches higher on Anna’s leg and squeeze for emphasis. “Kitty? If you insist.”

Anna coughs on her wine and dabs her mouth with her cloth napkin, staining the fabric with her lipstick.

“So, the first time we met, and I introduced myself, do you know what she had the audacity to say to me?”

Kitty’s eyes are round, her earrings swinging as she shakes her head and waits for me to go on.

“She said,” I pull out the air quotes, “‘dirty tradesmen aren’t my type.’”

Kitty gasps and drops her fork. Her husband shakes his head at his roast beef. Chad, one of the guys on my left who I didn’t even know was listening says, “Harsh, dude.”

“You’re a brat,” she says through her teeth.

“Anna, he obviously cleans up very nicely. These boys in this industry work hard. They can’t always look camera ready.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” I adjust my navy pocket square. “Sometimes I look like this. Sometimes I look like I just climbed out of a tent in the middle of the forest.”

Kitty looks slightly confused at my examples, but Anna’s eyes go as round as her empty dinner plate.

“You tell the rest.” Mrs. Short taps Anna on the bare shoulder to regain her attention.

“The rest? ”

“Yes, what made you change your mind on the dirty tradesman ?”

The college guy in the middle of the group laughs and all attention is truly on her now. She lines her fork and steak knife up parallel to each other on the plate and discards her cloth napkin.

“Well, Chris is right, for a long time I discounted him as a young, player type of guy. From what I’d heard,he had that reputation.”

Kitty is still smiling so she must not think any less of me over that. I don’t get the sense she’s an overly conservative woman.

“So, wasn’t I surprised when he admitted to me that he was actually a virgin?”

The table goes stone silent as I process what Anna just said to six virtual strangers.

“Anna,” I grit out.

“Oh, don’t be shy about it, honey .”

I don’t miss the way she sends the same term of endearment back my way. Willpower I didn’t even know I possessed is the only thing keeping my ass in my chair. The three college-aged guys next to me are practically vibrating as they stifle their laughter .

Kitty’s eyes are shining with barely contained excitement. Her ring-covered hands shake slightly like she’s holding back on saying something.

“Frank. That’s just like you and me, Frank.” She smacks his shoulder without looking.

“Good God,” I mutter.

The burly man's cheeks turn the colour of the low burning flames on the centrepieces.

Anna is going to pay for this in some way…I just haven’t decided how. Something involving her over my shoulder with a pink handprint on her ass sounds perfect. Remind her who the experienced one is here. Before Kitty can mortify us with any specific examples the M.C. announces that the awards portion of the evening will be commencing soon.