Sullivan snapped back to reality, casually retracting his hand and gesturing towards the tissue box in front of Bethany. “Tissue.”
Bethany, relieved, handed him the box. Sullivan pulled out a tissue and wiped his hand. His expression remained neutral, but inwardly, he felt a flicker of annoyance. Why had he done that? Wiping a girl’s mouth was something a boyfriend did. And he was Clara’s boyfriend, her fiancé, her husband-to-be in ten days.
After dinner, Sullivan went to retrieve his car, telling Bethany to wait for him at the intersection. When Bethany got into the car, she noticed a takeout box and teased him with a smile. “Practicing frugality, opposing waste. Mr. Fisher truly leads by example.”
Sullivan smiled. “You flatter me. This is another order of tomato steak.”
Another order
