Page 20 of A Really Bad Idea

I text Christian to see where he is.

Wait for me outside, he texts back.

I’m placing my phone in my purse when the front door of the restaurant opens, and Christian comes outside, wearing a black suit, no tie, and a debonair smile. His emerald eyes turn dark at the sight of me standing here. His gaze skims over my face, taking in the dramatic eye makeup and extra-long lashes, and then settles on my dark red lips. My long blonde hair is curled from a trip to the salon, cascading over the front of my trench coat.

“You’re beautiful.” He kisses me on the cheek and holds on for a long moment—longer than usual. His nose inhales the scent of my perfume as he gives me a second kiss along my jaw.

“I didn’t know you were inside already. I would have come in and had a drink.” I motion toward the entrance.

He inhales deeply. “This way is better. I get a second alone with you.”

He’s such a smooth-talker sometimes; it makes me blush.

“Are you ready to go in?”

“Right this way.” He takes my hand, leading me past the wrought iron fence and under the red awning grand entrance.

When we pass through the front door, it’s into a bustling restaurant. It’s not overly loud, but there’s enough of a hum and chorus as people enjoy their dinner and conversation.

Instead of heading toward the bar, where I assumed we’d wait for Angela, he leads me down a short flight of steps into the main dining room that overlooks the lake. We weave in between tables, and as we get closer to the open windows, I see a group of people at an extra-long table, all standing and looking our way.

“Surprise,” many of them say, followed by, “Happy birthday!”

I jump back in shock, my heart racing a thousand beats per minute at the realization that this isn’t a dinner for Christian and me to meet Angela’s boyfriend.

“You’re here for me?” My hand is on my chest as I take in my first ever surprise party.

Not expecting to see Brian and Beth along with some of my girlfriends from college and a few of the staff of Park Avenue Cardiology, my eyes well up with emotion.

“Happy birthday, Meadow,” Beth says with a squeeze.

“I can’t believe you threw me a surprise party!” I hug her back, loving the soft fabric of her suede dress.

She steps back, looking elegant in her chignon. “It was all Christian. He planned this months ago.”

I spin around and collide with Christian, my hand landing on his firm chest. I look up at him with an expression of complete admiration. For a man who has an insanely busy schedule and spends his free time reading medical journals, working out, and visiting his parents, he threw me a birthday dinner.

He’s looking down at me with a glint in his eye, accepting my thank you with the slight rise of his lips.

“Go say hi to your friends,” he says with a hand on my back, motioning me toward my guests.

I make my way around the table, saying hello to college friends, Jen and Marissa, and their husbands. I stop for a moment to catch up with them. Christian comes over with a glass in his palm and places it in mine as I’m listening to stories about their kids. He walks back to the other side of the table, and I move onto the girls from work, who completely surprised me by not spilling the beans on tonight’s dinner.

Angela made good on her promise and brought Denny. He definitely has this hipster vibe with his skinny jeans and suspenders, jet-black hair, and the longest handlebar mustache I’ve ever seen. It looks almost wet as it curls up at the ends.

“Right now, I’m just lying low and working on my music,” he says when I ask what he does, realizing Angela never told me.

“What do you play?” I ask.

“The bass. It’s just a hobby until I follow my real passion of opening up a bicycle repair shop in Amsterdam. They have over eight hundred thousand bicycles there. That’s more bikes than people,” he replies before asking the waitress if the bread is gluten-free.

Angela is behind him, smiling at me with a side-eye glance, wanting to know what I think of him. When he lowers his head, I give a thumbs-up even though I’ve met him for all of thirty seconds.

I walk over to my seat that has been preselected, sandwiching me between Christian and Beth and across from Angela and Denny.

“Hi, Brian,” I say to my brother, who is seated next to his wife.

He gives me a nod from his seat, not bothering to stand. “How does it feel to be a year older?”