Under the Table(21)
“I’ve heard of him!” she exclaimed, mainly from having seen the movie Titanic over a dozen times. As they entered the room, she brought her voice down to a whisper. The lights turned on automatically, bathing the room in a soft glow with single-bulb lights that shone directly on the artworks themselves. “Do you have one of them? You know, the Sunrise one?”
“It just so happens that I do.” Tristan handed over her wineglass and sat down on the long leather bench in the center of the room, patting the space beside him. “Come. We’re right in front of it.”
“Is yours real?” she whispered, sitting down next to him.
“No.” He gave her an indulgent smile. “The real Sunrise is in Paris.”
“Oh.” She giggled at her own ignorance. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he teased. “It’s probably happy there.”
They sat in silence, sipping their wine and looking at the serene picture, with all its mostly pale tones of the sky and sea, with the exception of the bright orange spot that made up the sun and the strokes of orange that served as its reflection on the water.
Zoey could understand why he found the rooms of art so inviting. The speakers here were turned down to enhance the ambiance. It was peaceful and quiet, with only the faint sounds of music thumping in the distance. She could hear him breathing. It was profoundly romantic.
Hold up. Not that word. Not here. Not with this guy.
“It’s getting late,” she said, breaking the silence that just a moment ago was comfortable and now was charged with an energy she had no business experiencing. She stood up. “I should probably go.”
She didn’t know if he felt it too, but he didn’t try to make her stay. He rose as well. “Can I call you a car? Walk you home?”
“No thanks.” She gave him a smile but refrained from looking him in the eye. “I’m going to race-walk off the penne.”
She couldn’t get out of his apartment fast enough. She needed fresh air on her face. She needed to clear her head from the long-dormant feelings that suddenly threatened to surface. Whether that was from the wine or the company, now was not the time to analyze it. He helped her into her jacket and she gathered her purse, all the while thinking about how if the circumstances were different, she’d be wanting and waiting for a good-night kiss. A kiss she would’ve been willing to initiate. A kiss that she could only imagine would be as thorough and thought out as all the other things he did. It only added to her fluster.
“Are you busy tomorrow?” Tristan asked, opening the door.
“I am,” she replied, eternally grateful she didn’t have to lie to him. She would need at least a day to get herself back in check. “I’m catering a brunch in Tribeca for a very nice lady and her new in-laws. It should be interesting.”
“Good luck with that. Not that you need it.”
She got out to the street and took a gulp of air. She began walking briskly in the direction of home, lecturing herself the entire way. With his initial reaction to the news she was married, it wasn’t hard to surmise that even if he felt a fraction of the chemistry she just did, he wouldn’t act on it. She needed to build his confidence and get him up to speed to meet the woman of his dreams. She couldn’t fail him as a friend or violate his trust.
But she was ashamed of herself for just how many ways she wanted to.
Chapter 8
Tristan communicated with Zoey every day, with the first time being an unexpected text. Zoey was home after the in-law brunch, feeling the rush that came with success. Her eggs Benedict were perfection. The poached whites of the eggs were fully cooked, and the yolks showed no signs of hardening. The hollandaise sauce just the right consistency. The potatoes that accompanied them were crunchy on the outside and soft inside with just the right amounts of peppers and onions to make them savory. She squeezed her own orange juice for the mimosas. All the fruit in her fruit salad was ripe and delectable. She went above and beyond to make sure her stressed-out host looked like the lady of the manor in her mother-in-law’s eyes. She walked away with a one-hundred-dollar tip for her efforts.
She was in the middle of a postwork nap when her phone pinged. She almost didn’t answer it, fearing that it was Derek, who had already sent several texts since she hung up on him two days prior. With one eye closed, she picked up the phone to confirm and saw an unknown number and the words: HELLO OUT THERE!
Curious, she wrote back: HI. I THINK YOU HAVE THE WRONG NUMBER.
After less than a minute she got: ZOEY?
She had a sneaking suspicion, which made her smile, but asked anyway: WHO IS THIS?
IT’S TRISTAN. I WENT OUT AND GOT A PHONE TODAY. ALL BY MYSELF.
LOL
YOU THINK YOU’RE TRICKY, BUT I KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS.
OH YEAH? WHAT DOES IT MEAN?
LEFT OVER LAUGHTER
CLOSE. IT MEANS LAUGH OUT LOUD
I KNEW THAT, SO LOL ON YOU. WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING AT ME?
I WASN’T REALLY. IT’S ONE OF THOSE THINGS YOU WRITE WHEN SOMEONE SAYS SOMETHING FUNNY. OR YOU DON’T HAVE A READY RESPONSE.
WHICH ONE IS IT FOR YOU?
A LITTLE OF BOTH. MOSTLY YOUR ALL BY YOURSELF COMMENT. PROUD OF YOU.
ONE OF MY NEW JACKETS HAS AN INSIDE POCKET SPECIFICALLY FOR A PHONE, SO I THOUGHT IT WAS TIME.