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“Like what?” he asked, looking hurt. “Like your parents?” I didn’t say anything, but turned around so my back was to him again.
“That’s completely different, babe. They didn’t split up because of you. They changed, they fell out of love.”
We were silent, and the kitchen filled with the sound of the running faucet. I knew I hadn’t caused the divorce. But the year leading up to the split was the beginning of a painful downward spiral. Bill and I were happy now, but were we solid enough to bring a child into the world? And was that even what I wanted?
“Maybe you were right,” he said after some time had passed. “Maybe you’re not ready. We’ve been married for almost three years, and you still won’t let me in. I don’t know how else to get you to commit, Olivia. I’ve been patient, but I want this, and that’s not going to change. Promise me you’ll give this some serious thought.” Before I could answer, I heard him toss the knife on the table and leave the kitchen.
~
“It’s Gretchen.”
I took the phone from Bill’s outstretched hand so that he could return to sulking in silence. They were the first words he’d spoken to me since the night before. Fortunately, the latest James Patterson novel had kept him occupied for most of the morning.
“So I think I told you about the chef I’ve been dating?” Gretchen’s voice came through the phone. “His restaurant’s soft opening is tonight, and he wants me to invite people. You guys up for it?” She couldn’t have picked a better day to ask, I thought. Bill and I needed a distraction from each other.
“Let me call you back.”
“I thought you wanted a quiet weekend,” Bill said when I told him. He stuck his finger in his book and shut it.
“I do,” I said thoughtfully. “I did. But I think it could be fun. And it’s an invitation from the head chef.”
“Babe, no. I’m not in the mood.”
I dialed Lucy as Bill turned back to his book.
“Hey,” she picked up after the second ring.
“Are you guys going tonight?” I asked.
“Not sure yet. Andrew is throwing a tantrum about it. I guess there’s a game on,” she said.
“Oh, is there?” I asked, raising my eyebrows at Bill, who ignored me. I put my finger over the mouthpiece and asked, “A game? Really Bill?” He shrugged, and I rolled my eyes.
“Perhaps we should make it a girls night then,” I suggested, knowing that Bill wouldn’t be much happier about that.
“I was thinking the same thing. Oh, we can really get dressed up too! I’ll just check with Andrew.”
“Livs, come on,” Bill started.
“Off the hook. You’re welcome,” I snapped as I left the room. I disrobed and waited for the shower to heat, watching as steam began to curl over the door. I looked into the mirror at myself, admiring my slim figure. I ran my hands over my breasts and down my stomach, stopping to touch the small, raised scar on my side.
I had gotten what I’d wanted: distance from David. I still hadn’t heard from him. And it alarmed me to realize that the distance hadn’t helped. If anything, I thought of him more often. I wondered what he was doing, why he hadn’t called the office. I thought of him now, as I stood completely vulnerable in my bathroom. In Bill’s bathroom. I recalled our last conversation, when I had told him not to phone. Just business, I thought. After the argument with Bill, it was important that I focus on the life we were building - imperative, in fact. I blinked from the thought, finding my image distorted in the foggy mirror.
~
I pulled on my ear as I surveyed my closet, deciding on a one-shoulder, body-skimming gold sequined dress.
“Livs!” Bill shouted from the other room. “Lucy’s here!”
I grabbed my black platforms and went out to meet her. “Well, don’t you clean up nice!” I exclaimed.
“Not so bad yourself,” she said with a sweet smile.
“Is it too much?” I asked.
Bill looked over then. “Aren’t you going to be cold?”
“I’m taking a coat.”
He shifted as he looked me up and down. “Is this restaurant thing a big deal?”
Lucy shrugged. “We just felt like getting dressed up.”
“Well you both look gorgeous.” He unmuted the TV. “And please don’t leave me for the head chef,” he joked.
I wondered if his mood had changed because we had company or if he was over last night’s tiff. I never knew with him, but was grateful either way. I leaned over the couch, letting my hair fall over his shoulder. “Don’t wait up,” I said, planting a kiss on his cheek.
~
When we arrived, we found Gretchen at the bar with her roommates, Ava and Bethany. The three of them talked vivaciously, as though they didn’t see each other every day. Lucy and I tried our best to sew ourselves into the conversation about love, sex and dating. I could appreciate tales from the other side, but my stories had run out already. At least, any stories these girls would be interested in hearing. Ava, who was husband hunting, would surely be disappointed with Bill’s and my no-frills lovemaking. And Bethany, who was proudly unattached, would be bored by it. It didn’t upset me to think so; I’d happily left singledom behind. One drink in, the hostess approached and interrupted us mid-laugh.
“Harper?” she said to the group.
“That’s me,” said Gretchen, sliding off her stool.
“I apologize for the wait, Ms. Harper.” She stepped back, allowing us to gather our things. “Jeff wanted us to prepare a special table for you as his guests.” She showed us to a round table in the middle.
I turned back to Gretchen and asked under my breath, “Jeff the chef?”
Lucy and I burst into a fit of giggles as she rolled her eyes. “Grow up,” she scolded.
Gretchen insisted on facing the door to keep tabs on the crowd, and we molded ourselves around her. Almost immediately, the waiter arrived with what I recognized as an expensive Bordeaux and poured us each a glass. Someone else appeared with a plate of appetizers, and our girl talk took up warp speed as we indulged. Gretchen dished on Jeff, telling us that he had been wooing her for weeks but that she’d only just agreed to a first date.
“I could get used to this,” Bethany said. “I can’t wait to see what happens when you actually sleep with him!”
“Seriously,” Ava agreed as she finished off another glass.
All of a sudden, my ears tuned to a bass in the hum of the crowd. My body tensed, and I hunched down in my chair feeling instantly exposed. Gretchen had stopped talking and was staring over my sequined shoulder. Would I be able to escape to the bathroom before he noticed me? I was still stinging from the fact that he’d lost interest so quickly. Lucy, who was sitting next to Gretchen and was thoroughly tipsy, broke into a smile and waved her hand.
“Well, if it isn’t my lucky day.”
The hairs on the back of my neck rose. I lifted my head and reeled at the sight of David. He looked devilishly handsome in a charcoal pea coat that hung open to reveal a V-neck sweater and exposed checked collar. His eyes sought mine and that familiar electric current passed between us.
Then I saw her, the girl from the Internet. She was almost as tall as him in sky-high heels that lengthened already long dark legs. Caramel-colored hair fell in waves over her shoulders, framing those unmistakable green eyes. She donned a skin-tight red dress that showed off an athletic figure. Envy flooded over me so powerfully that I dug my nails into my seat cushion. I was surprised by the extremity of the unfamiliar emotion. She was the epitome of Latin beauty and her dark complexion melded flawlessly with his bronzed skin.
I looked him straight in the eyes and took pleasure in the uncertainty that flashed across his face. They were joined by a slight, severe man, just shorter than the woman, who had a pronounced nose and beady eyes that lingered a little too long.
“Lucky day, indeed,” he said in a distinct French accent, leering over each one of us. My skin tingled when he reached
me, and I nervously touched my earlobe. David flashed me a quizzical look and cocked his head. I pulled my hand away, embarrassed. No, mortified; mortified that he was here with his stunning girlfriend. I chided myself for even thinking I could hold his interest.
“I didn’t realize you’d be here, David.” Lucy’s voice pitched into my thoughts.
“Arnaud, my associate,” he started, gesturing toward the man, “has graciously invited me and Maria for the opening. This was his project.”
“Oh, it’s wonderful. Congratulations!” Lucy chirped. Gretchen nodded emphatically in agreement, her eyes darting between Arnaud and David.
“Thank you,” Arnaud replied.
I focused my gaze ahead and clasped my hands in my lap. I could feel that my back was unnaturally straight so I tried to lean back into the chair but instantly sat back up, finding it uncomfortable.
“Gretchen knows the head chef,” Lucy offered as an explanation for our attendance.
“A friend of mine,” Gretchen interjected quickly with a laugh. “Just a friend.”
“David?” I heard the girl whisper silkily. I couldn’t help sneaking a peek. She appeared disenchanted, and stared straight ahead, plainly ignoring our presence.
“Hmm?” he asked distractedly. She motioned toward the waitress who was standing at their table patiently. “Ah. We’d better sit down. Nice to see you again, Lucy. Gretchen, Olivia, ladies,” he added. The way my name rolled off his tongue, it was as if he was saying it for the first time in the kitchen. I continued to evade his eyes, but I could feel him hesitate. Nobody noticed my unusually rude behavior because they were all staring after him as his party moved on.
“He remembered my name!” Gretchen squealed quietly.
“I just said it,” Lucy pointed out.
Ava and Bethany leaned over the table. “Spill!” one of them demanded.
“He’s a friend of Andrew’s.” They turned their attention to Lucy. “And get this - he made an appointment for a consultation with me next week.”
