Carly talked about how her ex never spent any time with their kids, just kept sending checks, and how the kids' resentment was aimed at her. Henry commiserated, saying how much he missed being in the same house with his sons every night. Marley was going to be an empty nester this fall and was dreading it. "It feels like the world is going to end, and I have to sit there and pretend to be happy about it," she said. Henry handed her a napkin so she could blot her eyes.
I wondered if I knew someone for Marley. She seemed awfully nice. I'd visit Gram-Gram and check out the younger residents. She might like being a trophy wife.
"What about you, Jonathan?" Carly asked, leaning forward to flash a few inches of cleavage. "Last week, you said... How did you put it? There was someone you thought you had feelings for, remember? But it was difficult?"
Thought he had feelings for. The man was Mr. Spock. What are these emotions I'm experiencing? Let me do a brain scan and analyze the results. I bet it was the woman he'd been with on that date. She'd seemed nice. Nicer than he was.
"I'd rather not discuss it," he said. "Ainsley is my employee, and I'm not comfortable sharing details of my personal life with her."
"But she's so nice," Marley said. Aw. "Maybe she could help you. And Dr. Lovely is her mother."
"Well, stepmother," I said. "Jonathan knows her, too. She writes for his magazine."
"Of course, of course."
I shifted to see my boss better. "I am pretty good with that kind of thing. Maybe I could help you."
"You couldn't."
"I bet I could."
"While I admire your confidence, no, thank you."
"I see. You're chicken."
He sighed. "No, Ainsley, it's not that. It's that I have two children to consider."
"I use that excuse, too," Henry said.
"And second, I don't think you're in a position to offer relationship advice. Forgive me if that sounded rude."
"It is rude. Just own it," I said. "Was it that woman from Le Monde? Points to you for taking her somewhere nice."
"So you've already been on a date with her?" Marley said. "What about a second date? Is that when people typically have sex?"
He closed his eyes. "As I said, I'm not comfortable discuss-"
"Send flowers," Carly suggested. "Every woman loves flowers."
"Nah," I said. "That's for later in the relationship. First he has to show her he has what she wants. What all women want."
"A lot of money?" Carly suggested.
"No, no. Though it never hurts."
"And what do all women want, in your vast experience?" Jonathan said.
"Honesty." I sat back, proud of the answer.
"Oh, good one," Carly said. "My ex had an entire apartment in Manhattan I didn't even know about. But since we're a fifty-fifty state, he had to buy me out, so I got the girls done-" she pointed proudly to her bosom, which was big enough to hold a generous plate of pasta "-had a little refreshing done and took my sisters to France for a month. Oh, that made him mad!" She smiled fondly.
"Sense of humor is another one," I said. Poor Jonathan. I might as well have said grow sparkly wings. "Being open to new things." Pause for laughter. "And kindness, that's the most important."
Trying to save Nathan's life...that had been kind. Or a reflex. But he'd stayed at the hospital. That had been very decent of him.
"It's the little things," I went on. "Holding doors and such. Let her talk and pretend to pay attention."
"Pretend? That's your advice? How fascinating."
"See?" I said. "You're doing it already."
"I still say you can't go wrong with flowers," Carly said. "Or just whisk her off to the city for dinner. Shock and awe, razzle and dazzle."
The others continued with their suggestions. Buy her a puppy, send her secret notes, flirt with her (like he could pull that off).
"I appreciate your suggestions," he said. "Perhaps we can move on."
"Did anyone ever tell you you talk like you're on Downton Abbey?" I asked, smiling at him.
"Not until just now."
"You do. You have a very formal way of talking."
He blinked at me, clearly pained.
"I love it," Marley said. "If you were ten years older, Jon."
He smiled at her.
Huh. I couldn't say I'd ever seen him smile before. It was an unexpectedly sweet smile, just a curve of the lips and a slight crinkle to his eyes.
And he was still wearing the suit he wore to work, except his tie was a tiny bit loosened, and...well...he was suddenly...attractive.
"I'd better head off," he said.
"Would you give me a ride home?" I heard myself ask.
The smile was gone. "Of course."
"It was great meeting you," I said, putting down my share of the tab as well as a healthy tip. "Hope to see you again." They answered in a chorus of goodbyes.
We walked out to Jonathan's car, a very sleek Jaguar. Maybe the magazine industry wasn't so bad after all.
He held the door for me. I got the sense that his nanny would beat him with a cane if he didn't. "So why did you get a divorce, Jonathan?" I asked as he got in.
He didn't answer for a minute, just pulled carefully onto the street. "I'd rather not discuss it," he said.
"Okay. Sorry."
"It's all right."
"I really could coach you on dating, you know," I said.
"I appreciate the offer, but no, thank you."
"How old are your children?" Apparently, I was not the sit in comfortable silence type.
That smile, though. That had been a very nice smile.
"Emily is eight, and Lydia is six."
"Do you get to see them a lot?"
"Yes. My ex-wife and I share custody. A week with me, a week with her." He turned, knowing where Kate's house was, I presumed, because he knew everything about this area. It was a famous house in our fair city.
"Does your ex live in Cambry-on-Hudson?"
He glanced at me. "Yes. We didn't want the girls to have to experience any more change than was necessary."
"Right. Of course."
We were quiet for a minute, and I looked out the window at all the pretty houses. If we took a right at the stop sign, and then a left, and another right, we'd be on the street where I used to live.
Used to.
"I won't say anything," I said, still looking out the window. "About your divorce or anything. You don't have to worry about that."
"I'm not."
That was all he said. I wasn't sure if it was a compliment or a threat.
A minute later, he pulled into Kate's driveway. The house was lit up, glowing from the exterior lights that my sister couldn't manage to turn off. Several trees and a modern statue were lit from the base.
"How is your sister these days?"
"Quiet. Sad."
He nodded. "Please give her my best."
For once, his formal language didn't put me off. He looked at me for a long minute, not blinking.
If I'd been with anyone else, I would've thought he wanted to say something.
I wasn't used to just looking at him; in fact, I rather specialized in avoiding exactly that, since he was usually frowning in disapproval at me. But in the glow from the car light, it seemed that one of his eyes had a flake of gold in it. Yes. It did. The other one did not.
"Your eyes don't match," I said. My voice was a little strange.
He blinked. "Sectoral heterochromia," he said, glancing at his hands, then back at me. "A color abnormality in one part of a person's eye."
"Oh." It was rather hypnotic, that mysterious bit of gold in the pale green...or blue. His eyes weren't the lifeless alien pale color I'd always thought. No, on closer inspection, they were made up of pieces and shards of blue and green, and that one little patch of pure gold sitting at eight o'clock in his left iris.
I was staring.
Jonathan's mouth moved. It wasn't exactly a smile as much as...well... I didn't know what.
"Good night, Ainsley. Try to be on time tomorrow."
I cleared my throat. "Will do. Thank you for the ride."
Then I got out, the spring air cool on my surprisingly hot face.
* * *
The next morning, I made it to work at 8:31. I would've been in at 8:30 if not for a school bus driver who decided he had to have a chat with a kindergartner's dad. I slid into my desk, but not before Jonathan looked up, irritation quirking his mouth downward. Because I was sixty seconds late.
If there had been a moment in the car last night, it was probably only in my imagination. In fact, thinking about it, I was sure it was.
Ten minutes after I sat down, Rachelle's voice came over the intercom. "Ainsley, there's someone here to see you." Her usually mellow voice was tense.
Oh, God. Eric. Was it Eric? Finally! My knees and elbows tingled, and my heart seemed to lurch into my throat. "I'll be right out."