Page 25 of The Affair
I shook my head. “Nope, not picky.”
That seemed to please him.
“Yeah? Me either.” For a short moment, he paused, as if he was contemplating something. “Ginger—that’s her name,” he began. “She’s super picky about her food—or at least, that’s what I’ve gathered from the few times I’ve seen her at family events. Won’t eat anything but chicken fingers and French fries—like she’s a damn five-year-old.”
Just hearing her name took the breath from my lungs.
Ginger.
The blonde had a name, and it was Ginger?
I guess I’ll be naming my cat Clementine …
“That’s ridiculous,” I finally said, knowing he’d probably offered up the information in an effort to make me feel better about myself. I appreciated the gesture, but honestly, I could have gone my whole life, happily not knowing a thing about Ginger.
Or her peculiar eating habits.
“So, it’s serious then?” I couldn’t help but ask as he handed me a burger, still wrapped in paper. The smell of it made my mouth water. The wine dinner I’d made for myself had hardly done enough, and as it turned out, I was starving.
He merely shrugged. “I haven’t asked, but if he’s bringing her around family, I’m assuming it probably is.”
“You and Reed haven’t ever been close, have you?”
“No. We kind of do our own thing and keep to ourselves.”
“Is there a reason for that?” I pressed.
With his mouth full of food, I watched as he shook his dark brown hair, a lock of it falling in front of his face.
He pushed it back and answered, “Not really. I’m just not that close with anyone in my family. Is that weird?”
Um, yes, I wanted to scream. Instead, I played it cool. Or tried to.
“No. Well, I mean, kind of. A family is supposed to be your support system. Or at least, that’s how it’s always been for me,” I said as I tried to ignore the mess currently strewn all over, thanks to my mother’s abrupt departure from my life.
“To me, family is just a fancy word for obligation,” he explained.
“Is that why you’re going out on your own with this furniture thing? You don’t want to be obligated to your family anymore?”
He was nearly done with his massive burger, and I waited for him to finish the last bite before he responded.
“You’re seriously hung up on this, aren’t you? That I’m not working for my dad anymore?”
I shrugged, again trying to play it cool. With Reed, it had never been a question. He was a Gallagher, and Gallaghers worked for the family business.
Period.
“I just find it sort of fascinating. In my house, our family business was a source of pride. My brother went off to do his own thing, but he always came back during the summer and pitched in. For me, coming back to help my parents was something I was glad to do.”
“Even if it meant giving up your own career?”
I gave him a passive look, remembering the job I’d happily left to be at my parents’ side just a year earlier. It was honestly the only perk of my father’s cancer. “Working in a dead-end office job is not a career.”
“Then, why were you doing it? You were there a long time. I always assumed you enjoyed it.”
I rolled my eyes. “Working for a man who believed a woman’s job was either in the home or behind a receptionist desk? No. I definitely didn’t enjoy it.”
He nodded. “Yeah, we did some work for that guy a few years back—a reno on his master bath. His wife wanted a soaking tub, and even though I could fit it nicely in the budget without changing anything he’d requested, he flat-out refused. He said she didn’t need such frivolity in her life.”
