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I shoot him a look that says ‘What does that mean?’ but he holds my gaze as if to challenge me. I look away with a tiny shrug and immerse my attention in dipping the next piece of sushi.
“So, how’s everything at the store this week?” he asks to my great relief.
“Good,” I answer brightly. “Maxine’s really turning out to be a go-getter.”
“In a good way?”
“Yes, I believe so. She’s…got a lot of potential.”
“Yeah, you told me you thought she should further her education.”
“Ha, well…she’s outdone me. She wants to go for a month at London Flower School. Can you believe that?”
“Really? Do you feel okay with losing her for that long?”
“I think so. I appreciate her spirit, you know? She’ll be back. And…she’ll be even better than she is now. I’m actually thinking about inviting her to AFA with me.”
“You’re kidding. You, not traveling alone? I can’t picture it,” Quade says with a smirk.
“Yeah, but you know why I want her along?” He stops eating and subtly gestures for me to continue. “I think she can win that design competition.”
Quade rumples his face in mild disbelief. “Don’t you think she should try something like that next year, after she’s back from LFS?”
“Oh…probably. But I can always enter her again if she doesn’t place.”
“And I suppose you’re funding all this?” he asks in a somewhat alarmed tone.
“Of course I am, sweets. She’ll do great. If she even wins third we’ll get to bring home a plaque,” I say, as I raise one eyebrow.
“Okay Cookie,” Quade says with a freshly molten expression. “Whatever you feel is best. And I do think you could use the company, quite frankly.”
“Oh really?” I’m not sure why that comment takes me by surprise.
“Well of course. Seems like your work week is pretty solitary when I’m not around.”
I’d hate to admit the truth in that statement, as I don’t need Quade getting any ideas that I’m hankering for more time with him. I do stick to myself most weeks, but I’m just independent that way. Saturdays with Holly are plenty for me.
“That’s hardly the case,” I argue. “At the shop I’m surrounded by people all the time.” I can hear the defensiveness welling up in my own voice.
“You know what I mean Cookie. Friendship… companionship. Ever heard of those?”
I roll my eyes and gently change the subject. I can guess where he was headed with that.
I’m feeling so happy, after we finish our meal and drive back to my place, that we didn’t get into a single tiff. Until the moment when we go past the bar and I see a bike parked that unmistakably belongs to Ulysses. Like he thinks I actually hang out at my local dive bars.
“Any chance I can interest you in a foot massage?” Quade asks after walking me to my door.
He knows this is the one temptation I can never say no to, but my inner voice is screaming for me not to allow it.
“It’s so kind of you to offer that, and I would love one, but I’ve got some business matters to go through tonight—”
“Just for half an hour Cookie. I won’t keep you, I have business to take care of when I get back to the room anyway,” he says with his typical calm, yet unrelenting, firmness.
I smile nervously as I open the door and usher him in. “If you insist, I won’t say no to half an hour,” I respond, immediately doused in an ominous sense of regret.
We settle onto a red and gold jacquard couch and he lovingly takes my feet into his lap. We’ve done this from time to time over the years, usually making light conversation to ward off any real possibility of pleasure. But this time feels different. Quade’s eye contact and general demeanor have felt kind of sticky ever since my brief fling with Ulysses.
I remember chastising my own instinct not to tell Quade about my fling, then overruling it by reminding myself we tell each other everything. And nothing bad ever did come of it, except an ever-so-subtle tightening of his behavior around me. I guess that’s natural for one of us dating for the first time, nine years after our divorce. But nothing would fulfill me more than to see Quade with a girlfriend. He’s just never been very hotwired, and both of us are so focused on our businesses. It occurs to me that I can scarcely even imagine him taking an interest in a woman.
