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I saw the boxes stacked in piles behind her.
“Oh, it’s nice to know there’s another ex-pat close by. My husband is French and I don’t think he understands why I’m so homesick. Maybe that sounds a little silly.” She leaned into the doorframe.
I understood. I had felt that way when I moved to DC. Homesick seemed to be something I defined now by my distance from Vaughn.
“It’s not silly at all. I’ve never thought moving was easy.”
“Especially overseas,” she added.
I guessed Aubrey was maybe ten years older than me. The closer I studied her, I could see fine lines around her eyes and mouth, but they were subtle.
I cleared my throat. I felt like there was an invisible clock ticking over my head. It counted down every second I wasted.
“I know this is sort of last minute, but I was wondering if you and your husband would like to join us for dinner tonight. I don’t really know anyone else in the building, and I’d love to have you up.”
I didn’t have a comeback if she turned me down. I didn’t have a way to force her to accept my dinner invitation. How serious did Eloise expect me to be when it came to a dinner party? I should have given myself five minutes to come up with a game plan instead of heading straight for the target. I bit my lip. Target? I even sounded like Blackwing.
Aubrey nodded. “That would be great, actually. It sounds lovely. I have no idea where any of the plates are and my husband is getting tired of me ordering out every night. He doesn’t like takeout,” she explained.
I exhaled, surprised she accepted so easily. “Oh really? Great. I’d love to meet him. Do you want to say eight? Or is nine better?”
“I haven’t gotten used to late dinners quite yet. Eight would be fine.”
“Eight it is,” I smiled. “We’re in 3E. It’s at the end of the hallway near the courtyard.”
“Thank you so much for the invitation. Can I pick up something to bring? I know better than to offer to make anything. I’m a horrible cook.” She laughed. “I love Paris because I can order takeout from anywhere. Paul thinks I can take cooking classes now that we’re here, but I don’t think that will happen. I’m not really the doting wife type.”
I stared at her.
“I’m sorry. Anyway, what can I bring?” she offered.
I shook my head. “No, it’s all right. I have it covered. I know how rough moving week is. I finally got rid of all the boxes last week. Let it be my treat. We’ll see you then.”
“I can’t wait. Thank you, Kate. It was sweet of you to stop by.”
She closed the door and I walked to the elevators more briskly than was necessary. The heavy iron gate cla
nged shut and I leaned against the wall. That hadn’t seemed terrible. I had to convince myself that was neither duplicitous nor evil. It was dinner with a neighbor and her husband. A basic welcome wagon. Something my mother did countless times when people moved into the neighborhood in New Bern.
I pushed the button for our floor. I had to create a menu, cook, and clean the apartment. It felt as if I had somehow paused the ticking clock overhead. Even if for only a minute, it gave me a chance to catch my breath. I prayed I heard from Vaughn before eight. I checked my phone again, just in case he had called while I spoke to Aubrey, but there was nothing on my phone.
I unlocked the front door and dropped my bag on the stone countertop. I opened the fridge, scanning the shelf for something I could whip up. I didn’t do much of that. Italian-style pasta dinners were my go-to, but this seemed like a different occasion.
My mother had taught me how to cook several of her favorite meals. I hadn’t had a need to reach into that bag of tricks until now. I decided I would prepare roasted chicken. It was simple, but impressive with fresh herbs.
I would have to make a trip to the market. I didn’t have the ingredients I needed. I made a shopping list on my phone. I also needed to pick up wine. Oh, and flowers. My list grew.
This was our first dinner party. It was also my first assignment from Blackwing. Tonight had to be flawless. I grabbed the keys and my bag and locked the apartment on my way to the market.
I returned with my arms full of groceries. The flowers protruded from one bag. The wine bottles clanked on the counter when I set everything down.
I brushed my hair from my face.
“Ok. I can do this. Totally do this. Dinner for four isn’t a big deal.”
As long as I put the chickens in the oven in the next fifteen minutes, I could pull it off. That didn’t leave much time to roast potatoes or get dressed, but I could probably stall with appetizers or something.
I unpacked the food and moved around the kitchen, forgetting the purpose of the dinner. The only thing that I was worried about was impressing our new neighbors, and of course Vaughn. I could worry about the rest once it was over.
