Andrew shook his head. “That’s horrific.”
“So that’s how I ended up in Utah. I came here to go to school, met the owner of a catering business, and ended up owning it.”
“You’ve done well.”
“The business does well. Not that I’m much help these days.”
“So who runs it?”
“One of my employees. Actually, she’s more of a friend than an employee. Her name’s Carina. She’s worked for me for over five years. When everything came down with Clive, I melted down, and she stepped in and took over. She’s overwhelmed, but she doesn’t complain.” I suddenly yawned. “Sorry.”
“It’s late,” he said.
“I’m okay,” I said quickly. “You’re the one with a job.” I looked into his eyes. “Are you tired?”
“A little. But I don’t want to go just yet.”
This made me smile. I continued the conversation. “Are your parents still alive?”
“No. My parents died in a car accident when I was young. So my brother and I were raised by my aunt and uncle. They couldn’t have children, so they adopted us.”
“Are you close to your brother?”
“Very. Not physically, though. He’s still in Colorado.”
“How often do you see him?”
“Every chance I get.”
I yawned again. Then Andrew yawned. We both laughed.
“I’ll go,” he said.
“All right.”
He stood first, then reached down and helped me up from the couch. We walked to the door. “Thank you for dinner. And the conversation. It was delicious.”
“Thank you for coming,” I said.
He hesitated a moment, then said, “Can I be a little vulnerable with you?”
“Yes.”
“After my divorce I told myself that I wouldn’t get involved with anyone. But being with you has been nice.” He looked vulnerable. Vulnerable and beautiful.
“I know what you mean. I thought it would be a cold day in hell before I spent time with a man.”
He grinned. “It’s been pretty cold.”
“And I’ve been living in hell,” I said. “So I guess it was time.” We both smiled. “I guess I didn’t realize how lonely I was.” I looked into his eyes. “I needed someone kind in my life these days. This is unexpected and welcome.”
“If it’s okay with you, I’d like to see more of you.”
“It’s okay with me.”
He touched my hair, gently brushing it back from my face. “Can I see you tomorrow?”
“I’d like that.”
“What time?”
“Any time. All day if you like.”
His smile broadened. “I’d love to, but I’m short on workers tomorrow. What if I came around five and took you to dinner?”
“That sounds nice.”
“Do you like sushi?”
“Yes.”
“I found a little place up on the Bench. Kobe.” He just stood there. Then he leaned forward and lightly kissed me on the lips. I closed my eyes and drank it in. He straightened up. “Good night.”
I touched his cheek longingly, then leaned forward and kissed him back. “Good night, Andrew.”
He smiled, then turned and walked out the door. I watched him get into his truck, waved, then went inside. It was past two. In spite of the hour, it was the most awake I’d felt in months.
Chapter Sixteen
I saw Clive today. He asked something big of me. (Bigamy. Yeah, I see it. Not funny.) I told him no, but I felt so sorry for him that I could see myself caving. Sometimes I don’t know if I’m an angel or a doormat.
—Maggie Walther’s Diary
I woke the next morning in a pleasant haze. Happiness. I hardly recognized it. It had been too long since I’d felt that way. My blissful state was interrupted by the phone.
“Did I wake you?” Carina asked.
“No, I was up. How was the party last night?” I’m sure the question surprised her. It was the first time I’d asked about work in weeks.
“It was crazy. They had double the number of guests than had RSVPed.”
“They should know that no one in Utah RSVPs. What did you do?”
“Fortunately, we had three sheets of lemon bars and two sheets of éclairs for tonight’s event. So we used them. The girls are at the house baking right now.”
“I’m sorry I’ve just dropped this on you.”
“Baptism by fire,” she said. “It reminds me of how my dad taught me to swim by throwing me into the deep end of the pool.”
“Sorry,” I said again. “That wasn’t my intent.”
“I know,” she said. She changed the subject. “I came by last night.”
“Why didn’t you come in?”
“Because there was a truck in the driveway.”
“What time did you come by?”
“Around one thirty.”
“Why were you driving by my house at one thirty?”
“Because I’m worried about you. I hate that you’re all alone. But then I guess you’re not.”
“I had someone over.”
“Who?”
“A guy I just met a few days ago.”
“Does he have a name?”
“Andrew.”
“You met him after we had coffee?”
“Yes.”
“Where did you meet him?”
“Why do I feel like you’re interrogating me?”
“Because I am.”
“Fair enough. I met him while I was buying a Christmas tree—which, by the way, was your idea.”
“Don’t blame me . . .”
“I’m not blaming you, I’m giving you credit.”
“When I said to change your environment, I meant get a tree, not the guy selling it.”
“I thought you’d be happy I wasn’t alone. Isn’t that what you just said? You hated that I was alone?”
“I do,” she said. “It’s just that you’ve only been divorced a few months. You’re vulnerable. Just three days ago you were swearing off men, and just like that you have a love interest?”
“I didn’t say he was a love interest.”
“He was at your house at one thirty.”
“Actually, he was there until two,” I said.
“Exactly. You’re vulnerable. I don’t want to see you taken advantage of. How well do you know this guy?”
“I know that he’s kind. He’s funny, in a subtle way, and he’s a great conversationalist.”
“How long has he been unemployed?”
“He’s not unemployed.”
“For the moment. He works at a Christmas tree lot. Seasonal work. How long was he unemployed before that?”
“He owns the Christmas tree lot,” I said. “He’s an entrepreneur.”
“That’s a French word for slacker.”
“I’m an entrepreneur,” I said. “He’s not a slacker.”
“Then why is he single?”
“I’m single, you’re single; why would you ask that?”
“Because you and I are nuptial victims.”
“So is he. He’s divorced.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know. A few years.”
“Where is he from?”
“Colorado. He’s been in Utah just a few months. He used to be a financial adviser in Denver. And he’s gorgeous.”
“Gorgeous?”
“Like, beautiful.”
“Now we get to the core of the problem,” she said. “Blinded by the hunk.”
“I’m done with this conversation,” I said.
“Just remember, honey. The nicer the package, the cheaper the gift.”
“I am definitely done with this conversation.”
“Love you, sweetie.”
“Love you too. Have a good day.”
In spite of my conversation with Carina, I felt happy all day in anticipation of seeing Andrew again. I didn’t disagree with Carina that things were moving fast, warp speed, but after wandering through a desert, when you find water, you don’t sip it.