Page 74 of David's Chase

He only stays silent for a second before uttering words with no emotion in his voice.

“I’m in New York doing business. And we’re invited to a business dinner tonight,” he says and picks up my drink from the table before handing it to me, visibly irritated.

The woman has none of it.

No one would believe him, and not because what he just said is not believable, but because I look more like a bride than a mousy assistant.

The only thing missing is the bouquet of peonies.

Her eyes dive deep into mine, her expression more than telling.

The only thing still unclear to her is whether I’m one of those‘paid’women his ex-husband used to enjoy a lot or whether I am more.

That’s the riddle I’m trying to solve too.

She peels her stare away from me and looks at him.

“Where exactly is that dinner?”

She’s nosy now, but he knows her ways, so he quickly tosses the name of a fancy hotel restaurant.

Whether she believes him or not is anyone’s guess.

My money is on she’s not buying it. But I doubt she can fact check that.

And even if she did, he couldn’t be bothered with her findings.

“Too bad you have plans for tonight. We could’ve had dinner together,” she says, and a few more words are exchanged along the same lines before he excuses himself and signals to me to follow him inside.

There is no way in hell having dinner with them will happen.

“It was nice meeting you, Elizabeth,” she says, and I’m not believing a word.

Her future husband seems nicer but also clueless about what he’s getting into. But we all have to learn somehow.

I walk next to him in perfect silence, and once we’re out of their line of sight, he comes up with a new plan.

LIZ

We leavethe place before the final act.

Under different circumstances, I’d be concerned that he wanted to leave because his ex showed up.

But in this case, his idea of cutting our losses and just exiting the place seems like the sensible choice.

I can tell he’s not thrilled about running into his ex tonight.

The odds of running into her and John––it’s John, I’ve learned––were slim, but they were still viable odds.

I don’t ask any questions, and he doesn’t provide additional information.

Instead, he takes my hand and walks me out before hauling a taxi.

We vanish like two runaways, not looking back, scrubbing our brains clean of the memory of the last half an hour.

There truly hasn’t been much love between these two people. Whatever has brought them together is still making them nauseous whenever they look at each other.

We dine in a hotel restaurant, in a dimly lit corner, at a table for two, with quiet music pouring from the speakers and no surprises of any kind.

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