On Second Thought
Page 83

“I know.” My voice was just a whisper.
Then I put down the spatula and turned around to face him. “Jonathan, sometimes I feel like you don’t really like me a whole lot.”
One second. Two. Three. Four.
“You’re wrong.”
“I know you like sleeping with me, but that can’t—”
“I like you, Ainsley.”
Oh, that voice, so deep and rumbly. That wasn’t fair.
He reached behind me and turned off the stove, then cupped my head, his fingers firm on the back of my scalp. My bones started to tingle. “I like that you always seem happy. I like how you talk to strangers. I like your silly dresses. I like that you’re completely different from me. I like the way you smell. I like your hair and your eyelashes and your smile.”
The faintest smile was on his face, and he didn’t look away.
“Okay, you pass,” I whispered.
He smiled full-on then, and my knees buckled. “Go sit down,” he said. “I’ll finish dinner.”
No doubt about it. I was falling in love.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Kate
I had to talk to Daniel.
All the give yourself a break, have some fun rationale had turned to dust the second I’d seen Brooke standing in my kitchen.
Thank God for Ainsley, making it seem like Daniel was hers.
Sitting there in Nathan’s living room, talking to Nathan’s sister about Nathan’s parents’ party the night after I’d slept with someone who was not Nathan...
Brooke looked like hell. Her hair was falling out, she told me. She kept dreaming that Nathan was alive. She told me Miles was sucking his thumb again. That she was afraid her father’s drinking was getting out of hand. That her mother was too quiet. That she couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing her brother again. That she wanted to talk to a medium.
I felt each statement like a punch to the heart, and that spike through my throat twisted. “Oh, Brooke,” I said, holding her as she sobbed, my own eyes dry and hard and wrong. “I’m so sorry.”
“You loved him so much, didn’t you?” she asked. I nodded helplessly, even more guilt sloshing over me.
But I had loved Nathan. Even if he’d never fallen all the way out of love with Madeleine. It occurred to me that I could ask Brooke about that.
But of course, I couldn’t. In the face of Brooke’s grief, it seemed petty, asking about his ex-wife, trying to see just how much Nathan loved her. He was gone, and if I was an insecure widow, I should probably keep that to myself. Especially after sleeping with Daniel.
“We’ll get through this,” she said, blowing her nose. “And God, I’m so sorry, coming over here, crying on your couch when you’re the one who’s really suffering.”
I smiled weakly. Images of Daniel and me last night, in the shower... I was going to hell.
When Brooke finally left, I took a punishing shower, scrubbing every inch of myself as hard as I could. Pulled my hair into a ponytail, put on one of my Cambry-on-Hudson dresses, a pink-and-green Lily Pulitzer dress with strappy sandals that aged me ten years. Drove to Brooklyn, the VW’s air conditioner not up for the task of truly cooling the sticky summer air. There was traffic, of course. There always was.
Daniel was working. It hadn’t occurred to me to check first, idiot that I was. Come on over, he said after I texted him from the sidewalk in front of his apartment building. Meet the guys.
Super. I went to Rescue 2, home of the most elite firefighters in the world, and got out of the car. My back was wet with sweat, and my face felt tight and red. I kept my sunglasses on.
The humble, two-story brick building had a logo painted on the red door. Like all FDNY departments, they’d suffered a lot of tragedy, and I wished abruptly, after three hours in stifling traffic, that I’d thought this through.
Two firefighters were sitting outside the firehouse. One winked at me. “Hi,” I said. “Is Daniel around?”
“Breton!” yelled the other. “Your woman is here!”
Oh, shit. I was not his woman. I hoped to God he hadn’t told them I was.
The door opened and Daniel came out, a big smile on his face. “Hey,” he said, coming over. He bent down for a kiss, and I turned my face so it landed on my cheek.
“Hi,” I said.
The smile slid off his face. But he turned to the other two. “Bruce, Jay, this is Kate, an old friend of mine.”
“Nice to meetcha,” they said in unison.
“Same here. Thanks for being so badass and brave and everything.”
“You got it, pretty lady,” said the winker.
“We live to serve,” the other one said.
“Come on,” Daniel said. “There are benches over here.”
Given the heat of the day, no one was out. The firehouse was near a school, and there were tennis courts and tracks behind chain-link fences. A row of benches sat in the shade.
“What brings you to Brooklyn?” he asked. “And what the hell are you wearing?”
“Goofy, isn’t it?” I wiped my palms on my dress. I had no reason to feel bad about this, I told myself. We were friends. There had been benefits. Those benefits were now suspended. That was all. “We need to talk.”
He folded his arms. “Funny, that’s usually my line.”
“I’m so sorry about this morning. That was Nathan’s sister who came in.”
“Yeah, I got that.” He sighed. “So you made a terrible mistake and it should never happen again.”
“It’s like you’re psychic.”
He didn’t smile.
“Daniel, you’ve been a really good friend these past few months. I...I appreciate last night more than I can say. But I can’t do anything more. Or again. You know what I mean? I’m a new widow. I... If you thought—”
“No, I didn’t think anything,” he said, his voice hard. “You know me. Just out for a good time.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
“I should get back to work.”
“Right.”
He stood up, offered his hand and then let mine go the second I was upright. “You didn’t have to drive all the way here just to tell me I was a one-night stand,” he said.
“We’re friends. I just... I didn’t want... I did need to. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.”
“You didn’t. I’ll see you around, okay?” With that, he went back into the firehouse.
Feeling like shit, I decided to visit the Re-Enter Center. I got back into my stifling car and drove there. The door was unlocked, and my footsteps echoed down the hall. Greta, the director, was in.
“Kate!” she exclaimed. “So good to see you!” She stood up from her desk and gave me a hug. “Hot out there, isn’t it? How are things?”
“Things are okay,” I lied. “Better.” No one really wanted to hear the truth. It was a much-discussed topic in the grief group.
We chatted about easy things, some of the students, where they were, if they’d gotten any jobs.
“We’re having a show in a few weeks. Ex-con art is all the rage, apparently. Did Paige tell you about it?” Greta asked.
“No. We’re not as close as we used to be.”
She nodded. “Well, you should come! There’ll be paintings, sculptures, some furniture and, of course, photos. In fact, why don’t you judge that category? Say yes! I won’t lie, I want you back here, and I know it’s a bit farther for you now, but please do this for us! Who better than our Kate?”