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“Let’s go, then.” I push back my chair.
“Wait. I’ve got to do the dishes.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Oh, please.” She waves at me dismissively as she rises from her chair.
She hums softly under her breath while she puts the plates away. She’s comfortable in my kitchen, as if she belongs there. I try to remember Gwen standing by the sink, but all I see is Giselle.
“Ready.”
I draw her into my arms, give her a lingering kiss, and lead her to the living room.
“I really love your house. Your decor is exquisite.”
I look around the living room and wonder if she is fishing for me to talk about Gwen again.
“Was your wife an interior designer? The way she blended the colors is amazing, the art pieces and furniture all complement, and the lighting is perfect.”
“No,” I say simply to end the discussion. I don’t want to talk to her about Gwen. Not yet. We’ll have more than enough time to do that later. For now, I just want to enjoy her company and not delve into the past.
Swiftly, I walk to the piano and sit. “Come,” I beckon with an outstretched hand.
She pauses for a second, as if she wants to say something, but then she shrugs and joins me.
“I’ll play the high notes, you play the low ones.”
She nods. “What are we playing?”
“Let’s begin with Debussy’sPetite Suite. I want to see how good you are.”
She beams and positions her hands. “Is that so?”
We enjoy playing the classic, and I see that she’s quite practiced.
“Now you play something. I want to see how wellyouplay.”
I burst into laughter. “Oh? Very well then.”
I play the piano adaptation of Mozart’sThe Magic Fluteoverture.
“You’re quite good.”
“Why, thank you, my lady. Your turn.”
She giggles like a shy schoolgirl, and my heart constricts at the sound. Observing her sitting on the piano bench garbed in my robe, she reminds me of Gwen, but I don’t see my late wife. I see a beautiful, intelligent, and passionate red-haired lady. Somewhere along the line, my feelings for her have changed.
With a start, I realize I’m a goner for this girl.
I’m in love!
Last night, I should have easily guessed that my feelings for her had deepened when I was hit with blazing-hot fury at seeing her with another man.
“What?”
“Nothing. I’m just enamored by your beauty.”
She smiles. “Thank you. I think.”
