So I tried to bring it on our date, in case he was thinking that I was a terrible mistake. I told what I thought was a pretty funny story involving my old job at NBC. It was a classic cocktail party story in my repertoire, in which a goat had gotten loose from a set and ended up falling asleep under Matt Lauer's desk, making Matt scream when he sat down and the goat bolted past him.
"Nothing to say?" I asked when he just nodded at the end of the story.
He shook his head.
"Well, that sucks, because that was one of my best stories."
"You don't have to impress me, you know."
"Well, I'd like to. It beats unimpressing you."
"You're fine the way you are."
I almost sighed before realizing it was--possibly--a compliment. He looked at me from across the table, still in his suit from work, though he'd taken off his tie.
"If it makes you happy to talk, then talk," he said. "But I like just being with you, too."
Which he proved later, in bed. Twice.
It was funny, I thought as I drove home. My role in the relationship with Eric had always been to be charming and funny and bright and animated with him, with his parents, with his friends and coworkers.
Just being... I wasn't a hundred percent sure how to do that.
But one thing was for sure. I was not about to turn myself inside out for Jonathan, or any guy. I'd based my life around Eric and our relationship. That wasn't going to happen again. At least, that was what I told myself. Jonathan was my boss and boyfriend now, and it could be said quite truthfully that a huge part of my life was indeed based around him.
I pulled into Kate's driveway, once again doing the walk of shame (though damn proud of it), went into the kitchen and screamed.
A very large man was there.
"Hey," he said. "How's it going?"
"Who are you, and why are you wearing my sister's shirt?" I yelped.
"How do you know it's your sister's?" he asked calmly.
"Because Derek Jeter's signature is on the back, and our dad got us those for Christmas a few years ago."
He smiled. "I'm Daniel Breton."
"Daniel the Hot Firefighter?"
He smiled. "One and the same."
"And you're here because..." My eyes widened. "Did you sleep with Kate?"
His smile grew.
"Holy guacamole! I'm gone for one night, and this place turns into a sex palace! Pour me some coffee and tell me what happened."
He got another cup and poured. "Keep your voice down. She's still sleeping."
I melted a little. He cared about my sister's sleep. I loved him already. Plus, he was freakin' beautiful. In all the years I'd visited Kate in Brooklyn, I had only heard the legend of Daniel the Hot Firefighter.
The stories hadn't done him justice.
"Say I was trapped in a burning building," I said. "You burst in, you carry me out, I'm not breathing. Describe the mouth-to-mouth I'm about to get."
He laughed. "Well, in reality, we'd use a ventilator mask--"
"Oh, come on! No reality. Please continue."
"What are you wearing?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow.
"A very flimsy something, and my hair looks amazing."
He grinned. Oh, mommy! That was a killer smile.
Just then, the kitchen door opened, and Brooke walked in. At the sight of Daniel, she stopped abruptly, horror flooding her face.
Oh, shit.
"Hey, Brooke!" I said, jumping up to hug her. "It's so good to see you!" She looked blank. "How are the boys? They're in camp, right? Kate said something about camp? Anyway, uh, do you know my, uh, friend? My friend Daniel? He's my friend."
It really sucked to be a terrible liar.
"Oh, he's your friend," Brooke said, her entire being sagging with relief. Clearly, she'd assumed the exact truth of the situation.
"Daniel," I said, "this is Kate's sister-in-law. Nathan's sister."
"You came to the wake," she said, her eyes narrowing.
"Yes," he answered. "I'm so sorry about your brother."
"Daniel's a good friend of the family," I said. He gave me an odd look--I'd just met him, obviously--but mercifully didn't contradict me.
"I need to talk to Kate about my parents' anniversary party," Brooke said.
"Right! That'll be very...uh...yeah."
Just then, Kate came into the kitchen looking exactly as if she'd been up all night making sexy time with a hot firefighter. Her long hair was tangled, her eyes were still heavy with sleep and she had a certain glow about her. (Go, Daniel!) She was barefoot and wore the silky short kimono I'd given her a few years ago.
She saw Brooke and lurched to a stop. Her eyes swiveled to Daniel.
If I was bad at lying, my sister was incapable of it.
"Hey, Kate!" I barked. "I ran into Daniel and asked him if he'd like to have coffee with me. Us. Here. Anyway, he came over. Sorry it's so early! And Brooke's here to talk about the anniversary party!"
Sure, I sounded like a chattering monkey, but my sister unfroze. "Right. Hi. Hi, Brooke."
"You okay?" Brooke said.
"Um, yeah. Yep."
"I can reschedule, if you're not feeling well."
Kate closed her eyes briefly. "No, no. I just overslept. Sorry."
"Of course you're not sleeping well," Brooke said. Her face wobbled. "I should've called or texted first. I'm so sorry."
Kate had that stake-through-the-heart look.
"Daniel, let's go out for breakfast, why don't we?" I said, grabbing his beautiful arm and pulling him toward the door.
"Actually, I can't," he said. "Uh...thanks for the coffee. Good to see you, Kate."
Don't look at her, I thought, because I could feel the air vibrating between them.
Out he went, raising a hand as he strode down the walk.
"Nice guy," Brooke said. "Are you dating him, Ainsley?"
"No! Nope. I mean, I would, but, uh... Well! I should... I'm going to, uh, grab some stuff, and then I'll be gone, too," I said.
Twenty minutes later, which was a land-speed record for me, I'd showered and dressed and even put on makeup. I slipped out the back door without saying goodbye, unwilling to lie anymore.
But seriously. Nathan's family couldn't know she'd just gotten it on with the poster boy for FDNY.
*
Cambry-on-Hudson's business district was hosting a Sidewalk Festival on Saturday, and Hudson Lifestyle was doing a web feature on it, written by yours truly. This meant I got to spend this morning wandering through the shops to get the latest info to update our website. It was the kind of work I really enjoyed.
My first stop was Bliss, the wedding dress shop I'd ogled from the outside many a time when I was with Eric. I'd always thought it would be bad luck to go in before I had a ring on my finger (pause for ironic and slightly bitter laughter). But now I had a good reason to go.
It was paradise inside. I mean, what woman didn't love wedding dresses? And these were ethereally beautiful--a blush tulle dress with tiny rosebuds along the bodice; a velvet lace gown that would make the bride look like a winter princess. Each one was more beautiful than the last.
"Hi, I'm Jenny," said a pretty woman dressed in black as I fondled a sleeve. "You're Kate O'Leary's sister, right? She took my picture a while ago. I still owe her dinner out."
We played the Cambry-on-Hudson two degrees of separation game; I told her I'd met Leo at Kate's grief group, and it turned out Eric and I had lived down the street from Jenny's sister.
"So Rachel Carver is your sister! Wow!" I said. "We used to chat when I walked Ollie. How's she doing?" She'd gotten a divorce, I knew that. I always thought her husband was a little too smug.
"She's doing really well," Jenny said. "She'll be here on Saturday. Her daughters are going to model flower girl dresses for me."
"Oh! So cute!" I said. "They're such beautiful girls. I miss seeing them. I, uh... My boyfriend and I broke up, and I'm staying with Kate now."
"That's so nice of you," she said. "She told me that. My sister and I are super close, too."
Did Kate say we were super close? God, that made me happy!
I asked Jenny a few more questions for the article and left reluctantly, thanking her for her time. Next stop: Cottage Confections. Kim, God bless her, felt it was necessary to feed me a red velvet cupcake as I sat there asking questions, then send me off with four more.
Too bad more of my workdays weren't like this. Speaking of, I had to take a good hard look at my life. I had options. I always had, but now I had funding because of my mother's insurance policy. What would she want me to do? Travel? Live in Paris for a year, drive across America?
But I loved this town.
And there was Jonathan. Too early for him to be a real factor in any decisions I had to make...except I was kind of falling for him.
Well. I had two clothing boutiques and three jewelry stores to check next. Not quite as fun as wedding dresses and cupcakes, but not bad, either.
As I was crossing the street an hour later, someone called my name.
It was Matthew Kent.
He came down the steps of Hudson's (which was not on my list). "Hey, Ainsley."
I had to give him points for remembering my name. Most people didn't on the first try.
"Uh, listen. I...I tried calling Jonathan this morning, but I'm pretty sure he's blocked my number."
"I wonder why," I said.
"Would you do me a favor?"
"Nope."
He gave an exasperated sigh, and I caught a glimpse of the resemblance between them. "Would you tell him I'd like to see him? Tell him we can't go on like this forever, and... Shit. I don't know. It's not good for the girls."
"Probably their uncle sleeping with their mother was also not good for the girls." I cocked my head and stared him down.
"It was more than two years ago," he said, "and they were little, and look. I know what I did was wrong. But it's done. It can't be undone."
"Sounds like you need to go to confession," I said. "I'm working. Bye."
"Tell him I miss him."
"Not gonna," I called, walking away.
When I got back to the office, it was nearly quitting time. "How's it going with the new boyfriend?" I asked Rachelle.
She let her head flop back against her chair and sighed.
"That bad?"
"He's a sex offender."
"Oh, man! Again?"
"Flashes senior citizens at nursing homes."
I nodded. "Oh, okay. Yep. My grandmother mentioned him. She said it livened up bingo, for what it's worth."
"I'm giving up," she said. "Want to go get a drink or something?"
I glanced at Jonathan's office. He was on the phone. "I need to check in with the boss," I said.
"Poor you."
"Ah, he's not that bad."
She snorted, then grabbed her purse. "See you tomorrow, Ains."
I scrolled through my emails, waiting until Deshawn had left, too. Jonathan was still on the phone. I needed to talk to him. No matter how grouchy it might make him, he should know that his brother had talked to me. Twice.
And I wanted to kiss him. Office hours were over, baby.
Finally, he hung up, only to have his cell phone ring immediately. I sank back into my seat to wait some more.
Almost everyone I knew seemed to be estranged from someone. Candy no longer spoke to her sister, because Aunt Patty never visited Gram-Gram. Rachelle didn't speak to her uncle--for good reason, though; he enjoyed walking around family events in his boxer shorts, testicles dangling past the hem. Kate had that bitchy Paige, who'd dumped her.
And here I was, estranged from the Fishers and the man I once loved without question.
Against my better instincts, I went to his blog, which was no longer called The Cancer Chronicles. No. It was now called New Life Horizons, which sounded to me like a cult or a weight-loss center.
There he was, looking bundled up and healthy on a snowfield. No grizzly bear in sight, unfortunately. He looked...good. Happy. Sunglasses against the glare, a few days of downy scruff.
I glanced through the blog. He used the word pure a lot. Pure sky, pure air, pure snow, pure rush. If I still edited his pieces, I'd have fixed that.
Ah. Here was a mention of me. While I know Sunshine has yet to get over me, I can't help thanking my guardian angel, Nathan, for setting all this in motion.
I almost punched the computer. For the love of God! Yes, by all means, Nathan, well done! I'm sure this was exactly what he intended.
The comments held a surprise--there were only four. The blog had been posted six days ago.
From one of his fraternity mates: Nice pictures, dude!
From his parents (Judy, of course; Aaron wouldn't know how to comment on a blog): Make sure you're eating right! You could also call sometime! xox Mom & Dad.
From Anonymous: Cool.
From Jeannie8393: I've struggled all my life to lose weight and finally found a supplement that REALLY WORKS!!!
Seemed like Eric's fifteen minutes of fame had expired.
I clicked off the site and checked the magazine's Twitter and Facebook pages. Jonathan was still on his cell. He opened his door, glanced at me, did a double take, then went back in, leaving the door open this time.
I could hear him talking now.
"What did Mommy say? Everyone else was invited? Everyone? Ah. Well...sometimes people can be thoughtless. I know she's your friend, sweetheart. But if she didn't invite you... No, no, you're wonderful! It doesn't make you any less nice. Just her. I know it's her birthday, but... Oh, Lyddie, don't cry."
Ah, shit. That sweet little girl was getting stiffed by a friend.
"It does sound like a fun party. But maybe you and I can do something fun on Saturday, too. We could go horseback riding, maybe. No? Okay, well, we could go to the painting place, how about that? Oh. Okay, something else, then."
I whipped out my phone and texted Jenny Tate. Any chance you could use another flower girl model? Six years old. A little friend is having a bad day.
She responded right away. Sure thing! Can she come about 10?
Yay for Jenny! I scrawled a note on a piece of paper and ran to Jonathan's office, where he was still trying to find something to assuage her. "Well, what about a movie? No, you're right, they're very loud."
I held up the paper. Bliss Bridal Shop needs flower girl models for Saturday at 10.
He scowled at me. "No, Lydia, I can't get you a puppy."
I shook the paper and pointed to the phone. Realization dawned on my boss's face.
"Hold on, Lyddie. Do you remember Ainsley? The fairy house lady? She wants to talk to you."
I grabbed the phone. "Hi, Lydia! How are you, honey?"
"I'm fine, thanks," she said, her sweet voice so small.
"Listen, I was wondering if you could do me a favor on Saturday. Do you know what a model is? A lady who puts on fancy clothes and gets her picture taken?"
"Like the ladies on Project Runway?"
I was glad to hear Jonathan's daughters weren't being raised only on Dickens. "Exactly. Anyway, there's a store that needs little girl models, and I thought you would be perfect. You'd have to wear a couple of very fancy dresses and be with a few other girls and look cute and smile."
"What kind of dresses?"
"The extremely beautiful kind. Like flower girls wear. Or princesses." Jonathan smiled at that, and my ovaries swelled.
"Really?" asked Lydia.
"Really. Will you do it? Pretty please?"
"Okay! Yes! That sounds like so much fun!"
"Great! I'll see you Saturday, then. I'll be at the store."
"Say thank you, Lydia," Jonathan said, raising his voice.
"Thank you, Amy!" the little girl sang. "Mommy, guess wh--"
I smiled at my boss. "She hung up," I said, handing the phone back to him.
"I'll call her later."
"Mean-girl troubles, huh?"
&nb
sp; "Yes." He leaned back in his chair, looking at me directly for the first time. "Thank you."
"You're welcome, Mr. Kent." I closed the door behind me. Reached up and undid a button on my blouse.
"You planning on seducing me in my office?" he asked, his voice low, eyes on my fingers.
"Yes, Mr. Kent," I said.
"I see lawsuit all over this."
"Deal with it."
I went behind his desk and straddled his lap, held his face in my hands and kissed him.
"Ainsley," he said.
"Check the thing I signed," I said. "It specifically allows workplace nooky if no one else is here." I paused. "You haven't dated at all since your divorce, have you?" I asked.
"Are we dating?"
"Yes, Jonathan," I said, rolling my eyes. "You take me out to dinner, we talk, we sleep together. That's dating."
He took my hands in both of his and studied them a few seconds. "And you're not dating anyone else?" He looked up at me, and there it was, that little speck of gold in his clear eyes.
"No," I said. "And neither are you."
His smile started in his eyes, and another good bit of my heart was his.
Then I kissed him, and he surprised me by standing up and laying me on his desk. Papers went everywhere, and the phone fell on the floor.
He didn't seem to mind.
No, he was a little too busy taking off my panties.
*
Jonathan followed me to Kate's house afterward. She wasn't home, but Ollie seemed quite happy to see my guest. He put his paws on Jonathan's knee and used his beautiful brown eyes to good effect until Jonathan picked him up.
I started cooking--chicken piccata, because Kate loved it. I texted her that Jonathan was here and we hoped she'd make it home for dinner. She said she probably wouldn't be back in time. She was in Brooklyn, seeing Daniel the Hot Firefighter, I surmised.
"She's out with friends," I told Jonathan, getting out the flour and bread crumbs. "Have a seat. Would you like some wine?" It was nice, having him here, my goofy little dog sitting on his lap. Ollie was already fast asleep, snoring slightly. He missed male company.
I busied myself with dinner prep--sliced the lemons, gently pounded the chicken breasts.
"This is very different from your place," Jonathan commented.
"Yeah, well, Nathan was an architect."
"Will Kate stay here, or will she sell the place?"
I lay the chicken in the frying pan. "I don't know. She hasn't mentioned moving."
"It must be hard, being in Nathan's house. His family lives just up the road, don't they?"
On Second Thought Page 32