The Winters(13)

A middle-aged woman at a nearby table glanced in our direction, rolling her eyes after she assessed the scene. Of course I was overreacting. How else to disguise my shame at how much I already knew about Rebekah and his love for her? How could I not compare myself to her? How could I not think: Why are you with someone like me when you were once married to someone like her? If this is how it ends, with me in a petulant snit and him driving off in a rage, so be it.

We said nothing to each other for a moment. I felt the tiny vessel that contained our burgeoning relationship crack open and spill out. Nothing this new or fragile, built on furtiveness and lies, could survive fights such as these. I pulled at my napkin to cover my blotchy face, sending my silverware clanging to the ground and Max after it. Now I am one of those clumsy baby-women, I thought, who reverts to little-girl antics when they feel angry or scared. How often had I seen these displays at the club?

Max gently placed the fork and knife back on the table in front of me and cleared his throat. “Listen to me very carefully,” he said, leaning forward to yank the corner of my chair to face him so that our knees touched. He took both my hands in his and pulled me closer, peering into my downturned face. “These past two weeks have been, for me, more than just diverting. I cannot remember a time I’ve enjoyed anyone’s company as much as I’ve enjoyed yours, so much so that I have stopped myself more times than I can count from kissing you hard on that very smart mouth of yours. Will you forgive me for being such an ass tonight?”

I nodded, a tear dropping onto my forearm. “I’m sorry I got mad, too.”

“No, no, I liked that,” he said. “More of that, please.”

“We’re still friends, then?”

“Sadly, yes,” he said, and signaled for the bill. “But I plan to do something about that.”

We walked to the car in silence. I knew what was going to happen when we got there. Before he opened my passenger door, he swiftly, gently pressed my back against the car and kissed me on the mouth. It took me a second to catch up to him, to help settle the kiss into a rhythm, which was easy for us to find. He lifted me slightly and pressed me back again, and released something like a murmuration of tiny birds through my body, fluttering beneath my skin into all the places his hands and mouth traveled.

After a minute of this, he dropped me back down on my feet.

“That was okay for me to do?”

I nodded.

“You did basically just say I should kiss you.”

“I did.”

“I have been wanting to almost from the moment I met you. I just . . . you’re much younger than me. And I didn’t want to embarrass myself, or misinterpret your attention.”

“You haven’t.”

“Because I like you very much.”

“I like you very much, too.”

My phone rang, shattering the moment. It was Laureen. I wanted to smash the phone into the gravel.

“I have to get this.” I walked a few steps away from him, where the light music and chatter coming from the fish shack wouldn’t reveal my whereabouts or give her the impression that any kind of fun was being had.

“Please don’t tell me you’re already asleep,” Laureen said, instead of hello. “It’s only nine goddamn thirty.”

“No, Laureen, I’m actually just heading back from your place. What’s the news on the tow?”

“Never mind the tow. How come whenever I call the office you’re never there? It’s always John-John answering the phone.”

“I’ve had a few charters this week, and I try to leave by six to water your garden before dark.”

“I want you to stick by the office from now on and let John-John take out guests who need piloting. Or get that lazy arse whatshisname, one of your roommates, to do it. The British idiot. You know I prefer having a young woman at the front desk, even if it’s just you.”

“Sure, but—”

“By the way, John-John told me you’ve taken Max Winter out a few times and he didn’t come back with anything. Well, no fish.”

“Yes, well, he wasn’t all that interested in fishing,” I said, walking right into it.

“I gathered that much. Watch yourself, missy. John-John’s not a gossip. For him to bring it up means you’re being real obvious.”

She tossed off a few more instructions regarding her house and reminded me she’d be back soon and that I was to meet her at the airport. She hung up without saying goodbye.

Max was texting a few feet away, the blue light from his phone reflecting on his smile. I assumed he was texting with Dani. She didn’t seem to keep normal hours. Or maybe that’s the way it was in Paris.

I took a step towards him, stopping shy of his reach.

“Is your boss on to us?”

The kiss had shifted the atmosphere between us so dramatically I wasn’t sure how to reenter it.

“You laugh,” I said, “but I could lose my job.”

He put his phone in his pocket and leaned back against the car. “What would you do if Laureen fired you?”

“I don’t know. I suppose a part of me would be happy. I’ve thought of getting a job in a hotel. Maybe in management. I could also go to the Brac. I know people there.”

None of this was true. But I was ashamed of my precariousness, how beholden I was to Laureen, to the debt I owed her. We drove back in silence, no mention of the kiss. Max dropped me at the foot of the cul-de-sac.