Beneath the Surface(6)

“What are you reading?” Sheryl hoped to mask the blush she felt creep up her neck with her question.

“The latest Kay Scarpetta,” Kristin said. “Are you a Patricia Cornwell fan?”

They both sat down, even though Sheryl hadn’t ordered her coffee yet. “I wish I had the time to read for leisure, but that’s not a luxury I have right now.”

“So what do you do for leisure, I wonder.”

“I’ll tell you all the fascinating details about my life after I get us a much-needed cup of coffee.” On her way to the counter, Sheryl weighed Kristin’s choice of reading material. There had been a time in her life when she’d been terribly snobbish about such things, and probably wouldn’t even have considered dating someone who couldn’t quote from The Female Eunuch by heart, but she’d long since let go of the lofty aspirations of only dating within the university pool. Besides, perhaps Kristin was well-versed in Germaine Greer.

“So?” Kristin asked after Sheryl had provided them both with steaming beverages. “I’m all curious now. What do you do in your spare time?”

“You saw that in action last night and before that, when I was pestering you to sponsor our party.”

“I would hardly call that pestering.” A small smile played on Kristin’s lips. “Besides, if it hadn’t been for the pestering, we wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”

“I did think it kind of strange that someone with the word manager in their job title would show up for a wine delivery. You must explain that to me.” And just like that, the entire atmosphere surrounding them turned flirty again. They’d only just met, but it seemed like their go-to mode. There was something in the air when they were in each other’s company. It couldn’t be denied. It also kept a wide grin glued to Sheryl’s face throughout the conversation.



“So it’s all work for you all the time?” Kristin asked, letting her gaze pass over Sheryl once again. How was it even possible for someone to look so scrumptious in so simple an outfit? Jeans and a t-shirt was all it took for Sheryl.

“Not really, but I do spend most of my time at the university and it is all a bit intertwined, but grading a paper is hardly the same as throwing a party.” There was something about Sheryl that had instantly spoken to Kristin. It had even come through in her voice when they’d only talked on the phone. A certain gravitas beyond her years. And then when they’d met in person, a tiny glimmer of melancholy in her glance that made her look older and as though she took even the smallest matter very seriously.

While Kristin considered herself lighthearted enough, she had not had a lighthearted, breezy upbringing. Everything was always dead serious at the Park house, from homework to the automatic assumption that Kristin would follow in both her parents’ footsteps and become a doctor—and, of course, that she would meet a fellow doctor-in-training in medical school and marry him, just like her parents had done. While Kristin had defied her parents in most ways, part of the seriousness had stuck.

When it was time for a refill, it was Kristin’s turn to head to the counter and as she walked back, mugs in hand, she considered that she could sit here in this coffee shop in Sheryl’s exquisite company for a good while longer.

“What about your work?” Sheryl asked. “How many Mardi Gras fundraising parties do you sponsor? This must be a busy time for you.”

“We do have standards, and we are quite selective about who we give our wares to.” Kristin remembered, as though it had only happened yesterday, the call that had been dispatched through to her—as most calls related to marketing that reception didn’t know what to do with were—and the deep voice on the other end of the line. Without the visual, someone else might have mistaken Sheryl’s low voice for a man’s, but she hadn’t.

“I feel honored then.” Sheryl cocked her head. “Do you enjoy what you do?”

Kristin nodded. “Very much so. I feel like I’m exactly where I need to be. I had a later start than most of my colleagues because of a failed med school experiment.” For reasons Kristin didn’t fully understand, the marketing department at Sterling Wines was mostly populated by women. Women who were her peers age-wise, but were now all, as though collectively struck by the notion of the biological clock, starting to have families. No matter how women-unfriendly the conclusion—though really, it was more a reflection on how corporations, at the top, were still too male dominated—Kristin knew this gave her an edge over her colleagues.