Page 56 of Love Is an Art
“Define a work colleague for an artist,” she says.
“That’s such a lawyer answer,” I say.Paisley saying, “Define what happily ever after is.” And me responding, “It’s not you sleeping with another guy.”
She blushes. “It is, isn’t it?”
“So is answering questions with questions.”
“What about interrogating the person you’re dining with?” She sips her beer.
“That too.” I raise my beer to her.
“Could you be considered a work colleague?” she asks. “You did buy my painting, so you’re a client, so to speak.”
“Other than me,” I say.
“No.”
That’s a definite no. No hesitation. No pause.
Maybe she was just changing the topic away from Paisley.
I have to stop being a suspicious bastard who reads too much into things.
She smiles at me and tilts her head. And I want to kiss her again.Her swollen lips after we kissed at Lincoln Center. Her soft skin.
“Would you like to come with me to my friend’s wedding in July?” I ask. “It’s up in the Catskills.”
“The one Paisley mentioned?”
“Yes.”
She looks down at the table and then glances back up. “That’s kind of far in the future. Maybe we should see how this goes. But if we’re still dating, then yes.”
I’m rushing things. She’s right.
The waitress sets down our curry chicken and Drunken Noodle. The food is delicious. We discuss some of our favorite books. It’s funny. Paisley and I always talked about work, but Tessa seems to make a concerted effort not to mention work. Our waitress clears our empty plates.
A young woman in an apron comes up to our table.
“Malee,” Tessa says. “Your carrot rose was fantastic. How was Thailand? I want to go.”
Malee shows us how to cut the rose out of a carrot. As she slices away at the carrot, forming each petal separately, a rose shape emerges. It’s cool.
She hands it to Tessa.
“Clever, isn’t it?” she asks.
“It’s amazing.” Tessa smiles. “Thank you for showing us.”
The bells on the door chime as a group of new customers enter.
“I’ve gotta go,” Malee says.
Our waitress places the check in a fake, black, leather folder on our table. I grab it.
“My treat.”
“Are you sure?”
