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“He’s a great guy,” Marcel offers as we peruse their selection of coasters.
I pick up a particularly beautiful set and run my hands along the yellow and gray mosaic design. Does Emile need a new set of coasters? Maybe a nice wine glass or two?
“I can tell,” I finally say. I’ve never been good at taking hints and running with them. Does he want me to confess my feelings?
“And I can tell you are, too.” His tone is casual, almost too much so. A wave of momentary nausea washes over me, and I wonder if I’ve fallen into some kind of trap.
“I try to be.” The words don’t feel right, and I say them like the burden they are.
“How are you liking Aura Creek so far, Clarissa?” I didn’t expect the question. I think he can tell. He hands me another candle to smell, charcoal and what I think might be cedar. I sniff it deeply so I can think about my reply.
Why did he have to use my name? At least, the name he thinks is mine.
“I’d love to see you here when Emile gets back from his sailing trip. The two of you make a cute pair. I’m glad you’re getting to know each other.”
It’s all but a confession that Emile is interested. And in more than a single kiss on a boat. Did the gardening vampire tell his friend already?
“I’m glad we’re getting to know each other, too,” I try, satisfied with my answer. It’s not a lie, save for the ‘Clarissa’ part.
I run my tongue along the back of my teeth as I scan their inventory of incense and holders. I wonder if Emile is a fan of potent smells drifting from room to room. It would make things easier in the long run when and if we ever live together.
Live together? Can you hear yourself?
I can, and it makes me smile. Maybe Agent Todd is wrong about this, and I can be safe while building something real. If Marcel is making note of my and Emile’s compatibility, doesn’t that count for something?
“Well, he can take some time to come around,” he replies. “It’s like people today just want to play games and lie. And when they’re not lying, they’re stretching the truth. Emile’s always honest, almost painfully so, and I don’t think he’s cut out for those games.”
I try to keep my eyes from bulging out of my head. What’s he talking about? He sees my confusion and shrugs.
“Emile isn’t great with opening up to people. My guess is that because he grew up around a lot of people who just told him what he wanted to hear, it did something to him. Now he kind of assumes everyone is up to something. There are not many people he trusts, really trusts. Kind of hard to have a serious relationship that way. I guess I’m just saying if he seems to take things a little slow, don’t take it personally. He needs a little prodding to make himself willing to get hurt.”
“I would never intentionally hurt Emile.” My voice is low, and I can’t manage to look him in the eye and speak my words at the same time.
“No, no. I’m not accusing you of anything,” he assures. “I just see it with Emile a lot. His last girlfriend, Lauren, was always pushing him to make things super serious. But Emile needs time to warm up. A lot of girls don’t have the patience. For what it’s worth, I think if you give him the chance to adjust, he’ll be a great boyfriend.”
Marcel gives me a compassionate look, one that’s seemingly riddled with what I can only imagine are painful memories. “People can present themselves one way, then be another. Emile likes to get to know someone well. He’s just not the type to rush, that’s all.”
My mouth is moving but no words are coming out.
“Not that I’m saying you’re like that,” Marcel qualifies. “You two just really seem to click, so I want you to understand how he handles things. He’s like an open book with you, and he’s never that way. Lauren had all kinds of secrets, but every time Emile tried to ask, she’d accuse him of not trusting her. Then she turned around and made it seem like it was his fault he didn’t have blind faith in her.”
An open book? Is he being facetious right now?
“Well, we all have our secrets.” I hope my tone is casual. I keep my eyes on the front of the store.
“Right, but some people have more than others, and they don’t care who gets hurt in the process of keeping them.” He looks at me like I should say something in response.
“That’s fair,” I try, wishing I hadn’t come out today or at least when I did. Why did Marcel have to bring this up?
“And that’s why I know you’re different. You understand. You’re patient.”
“Right.”
“Look, just don’t let any hesitancy on Emile’s part make you think you aren’t a catch. He’s got his trip planned, but when he gets back, I can’t see him feeling any less for you. Maybe that’s something to think about?”
As I make my way back home, I do just that. Though Marcel’s words were friendly, casual even, I know there’s meaning behind each syllable. Should I really be so eager to pursue things with someone who doesn’t even know my name? And because I’m actively lying about it?
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