Little Secrets(52)

“You know what, I’m just going to sit here and shut up.”

“That may be your best option.”

Their eyes met, and both of them burst out laughing.

“McKenzie,” she said, holding out her hand. “You can call me Kenzie. For today, anyway. I’m sure the minute you leave, I’ll cease to exist to you.”

“Derek.” He reached a hand out. She shook it, noticing he held hers a couple of seconds longer than was necessary. “And I don’t think that’s possible now.”

He released her hand, somewhat reluctantly, and she glanced down at his. He was wearing a wedding ring. He noticed her noticing and dropped his hand into his lap so it was no longer visible. He needn’t have worried.

It’s a myth that wedding rings prevent women from hitting on men. Some women are drawn to wedding rings like moths to a flame. For those women, the ring is exactly what they’re looking for.

After that first meeting, Derek started coming into the coffee shop every few days, and then every other day, and she couldn’t get over how different he seemed from the guy she remembered from the market. The guy at the market was so full of life and vigor. It radiated in the way he moved.

The new version of Derek was haunted. Lonely. And aching to talk to someone who wasn’t going to ask him anything about what was haunting him. At that point, she hadn’t let on that she knew about his son. She and Derek had never exchanged last names.

“Are you on a break?” he said a couple of weeks later, when Kenzie came out from behind the counter without her apron. “Have a seat. Take a load off.”

“Are you sure? I didn’t mean to interrupt.” He had his laptop open, and all she could see was a spreadsheet filled with numbers.

“Please. Interrupt.” To punctuate his point, he shut his laptop and moved it to the side, then pulled out the chair opposite him.

She took a seat, and they smiled at each other. She gazed at him openly.

“What?” he asked. “Something on my face? Did I cut myself shaving this morning and nobody told me?”

“You’ve been in here a lot lately,” she said. “My coworker thinks you have a crush on me.”

“I…” He stopped, his face reddening. “I’m too old for you.”

“And too married.”

He looked down at his wedding ring, twisting it with his other hand. “Yeah. That too.” He looked back up at her with a rueful smile. “I like coming here. I used to live a few blocks from here back in college. It reminds me of … less complicated times. That was a million years ago, by the way.”

“Yeah? What programs did they offer back then? How to Make Fire? Mating Rituals of Woolly Mammoths?”

He laughed. “I double majored in business and math.”

“That sounds awful.” She looked through the window at his car and chuckled. “But I guess that’s why you drive the Batmobile and I take the bus.”

“What did you just say?”

“Batmobile.” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, you’re a man of a certain age, Batman should be right up your—”

“My son used to call it that,” Derek said, looking out at the car. “The Batmobile. He was absolutely delighted when I drove it home the first day. Wife hated it immediately, said it was too flashy and that it made me look like a dick, but I’d had a great year, and I bought it in a moment of spontaneity. When she saw the look on Sebastian’s face, though, she relented. That’s why I can’t bring myself to get rid of it.”

Kenzie didn’t know what to say at first. It didn’t feel right to pretend she didn’t know about Sebastian, but his pain was so palpable, she was worried she might say something and make it worse.

“He’s the Robin to your Batman,” she said after a moment. “I believe he’ll ride in it again one day.”

His head snapped back toward her. “You know about my son?”

She nodded slowly. “It was all over the news. I … I was actually at the market the day it happened. The cops showed us his picture, but none of us … none of us saw anything.” She bit her lip. “I’m so sorry, Derek. I didn’t know how to mention it. Or even if I should mention it. The first time you walked in here, I remembered you right away.” She almost added and I remembered your son, but that would be too much. That would be a lie.

He held her gaze. “Thank you for telling me.”

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Kenzie turned and looked at the Maserati again. “But I’m with you all the way. The Batmobile absolutely must stay.”

That brought a smile to Derek’s lips. “So, what are you studying?”

“I’m in art school. Doing an MFA in furniture design, but my first love is painting.”

“There’s no master’s degree for painting?”

“Sure there is,” she said, “but the best way to be a better painter is to keep painting. Art is subjective. It resonates or it doesn’t, and I don’t need more training. I need more practice.”

“Explains why you always look at me the way you do,” Derek said. “You’re observant. A true artist.”

“How would you know? You haven’t seen my stuff … yet.” She paused, smiling, holding his gaze. “And that isn’t why I look at you the way I do.”