“There’s a reason I wanted to have dinner tonight, Claire,” he says loudly so that everyone can hear what he says. I frown. “There is?” The table falls silent. “Yes.” He straightens his tie, as if preparing himself for something. “I was wondering if you would like to go out with me next weekend.” My face falls. “Like on a date?” Harry whispers, mortified. “Yes,” Tristan replies, unrattled. “Like on a date. I would like to be your boyfriend, Claire Anderson. What do you say?”
