Free The Arrangement by Hilary Hamblin Page B

she explained, hating the lie that escaped her lips.
    Ben reached for her hand and clasped it in his. “I’m sorry, Evie. It’s just, I was afraid you had forgotten…or you had decided maybe the break-up was a good idea after all.”
    Evie used her thumb to caress Ben’s hand. “No way. The break-up was pretend. We both know that, right?”
    “Right.” Ben stared into Evie’s eyes for a second before he let go of her hand and turned back to the menu. “So what looks good? I’m thinking I’ll get the special: chicken-fried steak, French fries, and fried okra. It sounds like some good home cookin’.”
    Evie’ suppressed a gag. How could he eat so much grease? She eyed the menu in front of her and frowned at the greasy fingerprints and dirt smudges on the slick laminated cover. Gingerly she opened the menu with two fingers and scanned the options with the menu laid flat on the table instead of holding it as Ben felt so comfortable doing. Everything started with the word fried. Buried in the middle of the menu she found a grilled chicken option that might do if she could substitute a salad for the fries.
    She looked around at the other tables bubbling with conversation and activity. Families reached from one plate to another to test what each person ordered. Small groups of friends chatted merrily with the servers as though they were regulars. Evie wondered how all these people could return weekend after weekend and not suffer a heart attack from all the grease they ingested.
    She glanced up at Ben to find him staring intently at her.
    “So what do you think?”
    “It’s,” she paused, looking for a complimentary word that would be somewhat truthful, “cozy.” She hoped Ben would buy her fake enthusiasm. Her tastebuds longed for the French café nestled on Main Street in their bustling college town. But her sorority sisters would surely see them there. No chance of that here, she thought sarcastically.
    “No, I mean, what do you think about what you want to order?” A smile played on his lips.
    “Oh.” Evie batted her eyelashes at him. “The grilled chicken looks good. Do you think I could get a salad instead of fries?”
    “What, no fries?” Ben asked with mock disbelief as his smile widened into a full-fledged grin.
    Evie’s body relaxed as the playful Ben she knew and loved revealed himself. “You know I don’t eat grease!” She giggled.
    “I’m sure they will make the substitute. Just means more fries for me!”
    “I don’t know how you can eat that stuff. Makes me sick just to think about it. Yuck!” She twisted her mouth in a sign of disgust.
    “Hey, I eat at that pretentious ooh la la French place you like, and I don’t complain about it,” Ben threw back. Is that a hint of anger in his words? She wondered. “We’re on my turf now. At least give the place a chance.”
    Evie suppressed the urge to roll her eyes.
    At that moment the server returned to take their order.
    “Could I substitute a salad for the French fries?” Evie asked with a sugary voice as she finished ordering the grilled chicken.
    The server whose nametag read Shelia wrinkled her brow. “So you don’t want fries?” Dark roots showed beneath the woman’s brassy hair. The permed waves were held away from her face with hair clips and a pencil balanced carefully on her ear.
    “No, I would rather have the salad.”
    “That’ll cost you a dollar and eighteen cents extra,” she informed Evie as she pulled the pencil from behind her ear and held it over her order pad, waiting for Evie’s final decision before she made the notation.
    Evie pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. “That’s fine,” she agreed and nodded to affirm it.
    Shelia glanced at Ben as though his permission was needed as well. He nodded slightly, and she scribbled something on her pad. “What kind of dressing do you want? We got thousand island, ranch, French, Eyetalien…”
    “None, please. Just bring a couple of lemons.”