UNINVITED

Chapter 18

If I had known I’d be going out with one of my friends from many many years ago, I’d have carried an evening wear with me. Dress nicely. James’ message rang in my head. I hoped I had with the chic white blouse and brown slacks I was wearing. The embellishment on the blouse wasn’t intricate—just beadings. This was what I could get from my wardrobe. If I had planned this weekend away, I would have included a cocktail dress.

     A look at my reflection told me I was good to go. My blonde hair wasn’t wrapped in a bun or tied back into a ponytail. I left it hanging loosely on my shoulders in a mass of flowing curls. I didn’t want to look too formal. Picking up my Rolex with a gray dial, I strapped the watch around my wrist and clasped it. As I bent over the table, my hand narrowing down to the lip gloss, I saw Tom’s ring. My fingers trembled at the sight, my pulse quickening. Too visible. I grabbed it and skittered to the nightstand, then pulled out a drawer and threw it in. There. I wouldn’t be seeing it often.

     I didn’t want Tom’s lurking shadow to ruin this evening. Retracing my step to the vanity, I took the lip gloss and stood upright. Gingerly, I rubbed it on my lips and pressed each together, smoothening them. I saw Clara walking across the room in the mirror. She was normally well-behaved in my absence. I had thought an unfamiliar environment would trigger wild feline behavior, but she proved me wrong. I couldn’t be proud of her. I smiled.

     All set, I slipped into a pair of black stilettos, collecting my purse and shawl from the bed once I was done. I stood, rather slowly knowing James was already at the restaurant by now and walked over to the window. I expected Amy to appear like a ghost, close the curtain, and vanish, but I only looked at a pitch-black room. The lights downstairs were on, so I assumed they were either having dinner or tucked on a sofa watching TV.

     I turned around and faced the door. When I neared it, Clara was busily kneading her quilt. I snuck out, closing the door quietly behind me.

*  *  *

     Twenty minutes later, an immaculate doorman at Maison Rouge was giving me directions to a table. I thanked him and stepped into the restaurant, the clicks of my stilettos mixing with low hums from people conversing. I walked past a marble bar that stretched across the room, barstools standing across from it. Several people sat on the banquette, laughing over meals. I picked up speed, gripped my purse, and occasionally tugged my shawl for warmth.

     As I approached, passing by a young couple, James stood and waited till I was at our table. He looked handsome in a button-down, blue jeans, and Oxford shoes. His dark hair was combed neatly, his stubbles gone. For a moment, I wondered what his wife thought when he got dressed to go out.

     “I’m glad you could make it, Elodie,” he said, taking my hand and guiding me to my seat across from him.

     “Thank you.” I sat slowly and set the purse aside.

     Our white-clothed table adorned with golden tulips in a flower vase and flickering candles ensconced in holders had a bottle of Chardonnay and two wineglasses sitting on top.

     “Thirsty?” he said with a smile.

     I bobbed my head, my eyes lingering at his dimples.

     The liquid gurgled as he poured it in and filled my glass. I leaned forward and picked it up, then took a sip. The coldness sent a chill down my spine.

     I glanced around the restaurant and then faced James. “Great spot. To be honest, I expected a cheap bar, not a restaurant. I guess that was the reason behind the dress nicely code.” I giggled.