“About that…” Kristin got a wicked twinkle in her eye. “Do tell if it’s too soon, but we have a friend we would like to introduce you to. She’s a colleague of Sheryl’s. Very smart, very accomplished and… kind of in a similar boat as you.”
Micky’s heart started hammering in her chest. Did they want to set her up? “I would surely not call myself accomplished,” Micky joked, deflecting.
“No need to give me an answer now. Think about it. Let me know if and when you’re ready. Meanwhile, we’d love to sample your cooking. Oh.” Kristin sat up straighter. Micky had her back to the door. The first thought that flashed through her mind at Kristin’s reaction was that Robin had walked in—that she’d waited until after Micky’s shift to get her daily caffeine fix.
“There’s Sheryl, and she’s not alone.” She bent over the table and found Micky’s ear. “Trust me, this is not what we had agreed upon.”
Confused, Micky rose and turned around. Sheryl smiled broadly at her. Next to her stood a woman with an equally winning smile. Then it dawned on Micky. It was the woman Kristin had just mentioned, and Sheryl had jumped the gun. Not a bad decision, Micky thought, because giving her the chance to ponder the possibility for too long would surely have resulted in a no.
“This is my colleague Martha,” Sheryl said, “I’ve invited her to lunch. I hope you don’t mind.”
Martha was blonde like Robin, but in a very different way. Her hair color was eerily light, and surely real. She looked like she was from Eastern European descent with her high cheekbones and strong jaw. She was also at least ten years older than Robin.
Robin. Robin. Robin. Argh.
As Micky stretched out her hand, she vowed to stop comparing, push the memory of Robin to the back of her brain, and focus on getting to know Martha. After all, it wasn’t every day that your boss’s wife introduced you to a woman in the same boat.
Martha’s grip was firm and cool, and she wasn’t afraid to look Micky straight in the eye as they shook hands.
✶ ✶ ✶
Micky couldn’t believe she’d had such a hard time getting out of bed that morning. Look at her now. Her brand new friends had just set her up with a woman and she wasn’t even freaking out about it. In fact, she welcomed the distraction Martha’s inquisitive gaze brought.
On the way to the restaurant, Kristin and Sheryl walking ahead of her and Martha, Micky witnessed how they exchanged a few looks. Kristin was surely not the kind of person to scold her wife in public for introducing Micky to a potential love interest out of the blue like that, but Micky imagined she’d have a few things to say about it behind closed doors later.
Sitting down, Sheryl on one side of her, Martha on the other, Micky did feel a sort of accomplishment. A sentiment she could easily attribute to Amber again, for pushing her to work at The Pink Bean, and for recognizing that need for something more inside of her at the right time. But Micky was done selling herself short. She was the one who had had the courage to start working the morning shift at a coffee shop at the age of forty-four. An activity that, no matter the not-ideal outcome with Robin, had changed her life for the better.
“Just to get any misconceptions out of the way,” Martha said solemnly after they’d ordered wine and water, “I was the one who asked Sheryl if I could join you for lunch.”
An expert at disarming people. Then Micky was gripped by a bout of nerves. Why had Martha insisted?
“And here I was trying to set it all up subtly and slowly,” Kristin replied. Underneath her stern Asian exterior, she was quite easygoing.
“It’s fine,” Micky said. “I feel flattered.” Though, of course, aside from flattered, Micky also felt rather put on the spot. Was she supposed to start flirting with Martha in front of Sheryl and Kristin? Was it even okay to mention Robin now that they had introduced her to Martha? Micky would have liked to find out what Sheryl had to say about the whole Robin thing, but she could hardly ask her now.
“So do I.” Martha fastened her gaze on Micky.
If this woman was, in fact, in the same boat as Micky, where did she get this amount of confidence?
Kristin and Sheryl were skilled at keeping the conversation going and asking the right kind of questions at the right time so Micky could give the gist of her story while she learned about Martha. After lunch, which had been civilized and pleasant, Micky knew that Martha fell into the same latebian category as she did, though her husband of twenty years had left her for “a younger model” first, before Martha’d had the chance to “realize her true potential.” This information made Martha especially interesting to Micky, who left the restaurant with a million questions on her mind. To meet someone who was going through the same monumental changes was a relief.