Page 100 of The Husband Hour
“Okay, I might not be getting this exactly right. But the oak tree always seemed so strong because it never bent in the breeze, while the reeds swayed with the wind. But when the huge storm came and the oak tree couldn’t bend, it broke.”
“The reeds were fine, I take it?”
“Come on. I’m serious.”
“So what are you saying? I’m being weak?”
“No,” Beth said. “But I do think the storm has come. And I don’t want you to break.”
Chapter Forty-One
It was a mistake.
Matt woke up thinking about the kiss, and for a brief moment of self-delusion he told himself it was a dream, it was the alcohol, it was too much time in front of the computer screen—anything but reality.
A mistake, but not fatal. He would see her at some point during the day, act like nothing had happened. No, he would apologize—again. And then get back to business as usual. He wanted to see those newspaper articles and yearbooks.
But he couldn’t stop remembering the way it felt. There was a strange relief to it, as if he’d been thinking about kissing her for weeks. He’d come to care for her—a complete mistake from a professional standpoint.
All in all, the transgression had lasted, what, twenty seconds? The shocking part—the reason it hadn’t been even more brief—was the way she’d responded to him. As if it were the most natural thing in the world. Until it wasn’t, and she freaked out.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” she’d said, pulling back, her hand covering her mouth.
“Sorry!” he said. “My bad. And, hey—I guess that pink cocktail must be stronger than it looks.” His attempt to lighten the mood failed. She became silent.
When he dropped her off at her house, he said, “Lauren, please don’t be upset. It’s as good as forgotten, okay?”
She shook her head, as if they had been debating something. “It’s not your fault.”
And then she got out of the car without another glance at him. He felt like a total jerk.
He’d spent too much time in that town. It was fucking up his head. The first red flag had been his mixed feelings about interviewing Stephanie last night and not letting Lauren know. It was absurd, of course; he didn’t have to report everything to Lauren—anything to Lauren. But he was uncomfortable knowing the truth about Rory and her sister.
Then he realized that he hadn’t saved Stephanie’s interview from the drive to his laptop. Usually, he did the transfer immediately following the interview, but Lauren had left him a voice mail while Stephanie was there. As soon as she’d left, he listened and then ran right over to see her. The night unfolded from there. When he got back to his room after the kiss debacle, file management had been the last thing on his mind.
He downloaded the interview, labeled the chip Stephanie #2, and tucked it into the drive folder on his desk. He was meticulous about keeping two sets of every interview, one on his hard drive and the physical chip in the folder. Every filmmaker he knew had horror stories about corrupted drives and lost laptops.
His phone rang. Craig.
Matt waited a beat, steadying himself.
“Hello,” he said, trying to keep his tone normal.
“Hey, man. Watched your updated reel last night.”
“And?”
“I think maybe this conversation is worth continuing. When are you coming back to New York?”
Matt’s heart raced. “I’m wrapping things up here.”
“Tell you what—I’ll come to you. I wouldn’t mind a day at the beach.”
Beth maneuvered her way past the line and into Nora’s Café. She angled her body so the tray of doughnuts didn’t get jostled or knocked out of her hands and finally spotted Nora in the back of the dining room near the specials board.
“Hi, Beth,” Nora said cheerily. “Are you looking for Lauren? She’s off today.”
“I know. I came to see you, actually. I brought these.” She handed her the tray. “I wanted to thank you for the party the other day. That little talk in the kitchen was just what I needed.”
