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He taps the button, sets the phone down, and walks out of the kitchen.
After I take the call, I go looking for Leon and find him in the garage area he’s converted into a home gym. He’s sitting on the weight bench, a pair of weights clutched in his hands.
“What did your job want?” he asks, but his voice tells me he already knows.
“For me to cover a flight today. The scheduled attendant is sick. They need someone now and they knew I was in town.”
“What did you tell them?”
“That I’d cover it,” I say, my words soft. “I hope you’re not mad.”
“Not mad. Just disappointed we couldn’t have more time together. You get packed up and I’ll take you to the airport.” He sets down the weights and stands up, leaving the garage before I can say anything.
Leon is quiet as we drive to the airport, only speaking when I ask him a question. I don’t want us to say goodbye like this, but I don’t know what else to do. At this point, it’s looking like it’s my job or my marriage—and I don’t want to lose either one.
But I know which one is more important to me. And I know it’s done, it’s over. I want out.
I just don’t know how to tell Leon.
Chapter Six
Leon
Ihate the way I left things with Courtney.
We barely said a word to each other on the way to the airport. And I know how I came off about her covering the flight: like a huge asshole.
Here I am, a big successful real estate developer pouting because his wife has to go to work and leave him alone for thirty-six hours. After the way I acted, Courtney is probably glad she’s getting on that plane right now.
I’m not ready to go home and be alone just yet, so I drive through the city, taking side roads to avoid getting in the knot that’s mid-morning traffic around here. I consider stopping for a coffee, but when I notice where I am, I decide that maybe I need to drop in on my brother, Julian.
Julian is the head chef at a ritzy place that opened earlier this year. When I circle the building, I see his car parked in the back. Glancing at my watch, I see that it’s not quite lunch time. Hopefully he won’t be too busy to see his big brother.
I park my truck next to Julian’s car and climb out. A busboy smoking a cigarette near the dumpster lets me in the rear door of the restaurant when I tell him who I am.
Inside, I easily find Julian.
“Hey, little brother, how’s it going?” I say, clapping Julian on the shoulder—and he spins, a deadly sharp knife between us.
“Jesus, Leon. You trying to make me cut off a thumb?” Julian says, dropping the knife onto the counter and pulling me into a back-slapping hug. “What are you doing back here?”
“Al let me in,” I say, gesturing to the busboy. “I was just in the neighborhood. Thought I’d drop in, see how you’re doing.”
“Okay, then. Let’s go out front,” Julian says, then turns to address his staff. “Hey, watch that béchamel. And will someone make sure the lobster is in the cooler, not the freezer, and get all that mirepoix finished up? Actually, double it.”
Calls ofYes, chef!follow us out of the kitchen.
Julian and I settle at the bar and a cheerful redhead slides a cup of coffee over to Julian.
“What can I get you, hon?” she asks, her eyes sweeping over me.
I rub my chin with my left hand, making sure the light glints off my wedding band. “Coffee’s good. Thanks.”
“Coming up,” she says, a touch of disappointment in her voice. She pours me a cup and then wanders off down to the far end of the bar and starts counting liquor bottles.
“So what’s up, man?” Julian says, dumping sugar into his mug.
“For someone with such a refined palate, you sure do doctor the shit out of your coffee,” I say before taking a sip of my own.
