Page 70 of Turning Back

“I gotta go,” Bric says. “I need a suit and I didn’t bring anything over. But I will.”

“When?” Rochelle asks. “Tonight?”

“No,” Bric says over his shoulder. He’s heading back to the bedroom. Probably to find his clothes. “I have the Club this weekend, Rochelle. You know that.”

Rochelle makes a face. “What about you?” she asks me.

“I won’t be by either. You said you wanted weekends to yourself, right? Well, this is the weekend.”

She frowns, clearly unhappy with that answer. “Are you still punishing me?”

“No,” I say. I might be. “But I have a different life now. I have plans this weekend.”

“So Sunday night?”

I kinda feel bad, so I shrug instead of saying no. “We’ll see.”

“You have plans at midnight on Sundays now too?”

“No. But I do have plans on Monday morning with Smith. It’s something we just… do now. And I like it. So I’m just not sure yet.”

“OK, then.” She takes her attention back to Adley. “Last night was good, but I guess we’re back to real life.”

Bric comes out of the bedroom, tying his tie, his wrinkled suit coat over one arm. “I’m gonna be late,” he says, leaning down to kiss Rochelle. “Come by for breakfast. Or lunch, if you want. Dinner. Whatever you want, Rochelle.”

She nods, but he’s already on his way to the elevator.

“Catch you later,” I say.

The elevator must be waiting on our floor, because it opens as soon as Bric calls it. He disappears inside, saying, “Yup.”

“When do you have work?” Rochelle asks.

“Now.” I laugh. “I have a nine o’clock conference call.”

“What are you doing tonight?”

“Drinks with Robert. You remember Robert?”

“Sure.”

“We go out on Friday nights.”

“Oh,” she says. Clearly she was not expecting to be alone this weekend. But she asked for it. I guess I am still punishing her. “So breakfast in a couple hours?” she asks.

“Can’t.”

“Lunch?” She’s really annoyed with me now.

“Sorry. I’m just really busy today.”

She sighs.

I grab my suit out of the coat closet and take it back into the bedroom.

Rochelle follows a little while later. I’m standing in front of the bathroom mirror, shaving with a new disposable razor and shaving cream I found in one of the drawers. She cocks her hip against the door, Adley resting her head on her shoulder, looking at me with wide eyes.

“She doesn’t have your eyes,” I say, rinsing off my razor.