Though she was tempted to press her friend to explain exactly why she was acting so oddly about Thad, Jenny decided to let it go. “I haven’t really talked to anyone yet, other than you. Technically, I’m still on vacation.”
“You are, aren’t you? Want to go see a movie or something tonight? It’s been forever since I’ve been to a movie. We’ll find one with hunky guys who take off their shirts and blow things up—no sappy love stories.”
Jenny set aside her glass. “I like the sound of that.”
For one thing, there would be no need for conversation during a movie. Not to mention that she occasionally enjoyed watching hunky, shirtless men blow stuff up. Thad had never quite understood that, telling her it seemed out of character for her. The films weren’t to his taste, but she’d told herself she was content to share those outings with Stevie while she and Thad confined their movie dates to more cerebral offerings. Most of which she also appreciated. She particularly enjoyed the lively discussions that followed over coffee or wine. It was just that every once in a while, she liked to turn off her brain and simply be entertained for a couple hours. And why not?
They decided to have dinner before the movie. They chose a popular, inexpensive Southwestern restaurant not far from the theater. Jenny kept an eye on the time, and she excused herself from the table they had just claimed when her phone buzzed quietly. She’d warned Stevie that Thad would call at six. Splashing hot sauce onto her burrito, Stevie waved her off good-naturedly, telling her there was no need to hurry with the call.
She took the call outside. It was hot and there was no shade from the still-blazing, early-evening sun, but these calls never lasted long. “Hi, Thad.”
“I was beginning to wonder if you’d answer. Is everything all right?”
“Stevie and I are at a restaurant and I wanted to move outside to take the call.”
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt your dinner.”
“It’s okay. We’re just having burritos before we see a movie.”
Thad’s cultured laugh sounded quietly in her ear. “An adventure film, I’m sure.”
She smiled. “Well, of course. It is Stevie.”
A big “dually” pickup truck with chrome pipes and pounding bass passed in the parking lot. She waited until the noise had abated before asking politely, “What are your plans for the evening?”
“Another client meeting and then a dinner with some local associates. Oh, and I believe there’s a celebrity on the guest list.” He named several prominent national politicians, then an actor whose name she recognized immediately, which wasn’t surprising. Thad was, after all, in LA representing one of his corporate clients.
“He’s a friend of one of the senators,” he explained. “I don’t think I’ve seen any of his films, but I looked him up online so I won’t sound completely disconnected from popular entertainment.”
“You should have asked me,” she quipped. “I think I’ve seen all his movies.”
“Of course you have.” He laughed again. “Once you start attending all these events with me, I’ll depend on you to keep me up-to-date. I know you’ll want to continue to make time for your girls’ nights with Stevie because you enjoy her company so much, so I’ll shamelessly pump you for details about the action films I miss.”
He was obviously taking for granted that her answer to his pending proposal would be yes. And why shouldn’t he be? They were obviously a well-suited couple; even the activities they didn’t share in common complemented each other. It went without saying that it might be harder to make time for these girls’ nights after the wedding, but Thad was making it clear he’d never deliberately interfere with the longtime friendship.
Theirs wasn’t, perhaps, an “epic love affair,” to use Stevie’s words. But she and Thad were comfortable together. She could make that be enough.
Two squealing adolescents streaked down the sidewalk, shoving their way past her with insincerely muttered apologies. An ambulance shrieked by on the street, the decibel level making her wince. The parking lot smelled of exhaust, warm asphalt and fried foods. She pictured Thad in his five-star hotel surrounded by quiet elegance, and then imagined herself there beside him, choosing jewelry to enhance a little black dress rather than the cool cotton top and cropped pants she wore now.
Roused from her mental drifting, she blinked when he sp
oke again. “I’ll let you get back to Stevie. Have fun. Love ya, Jenny.”
“You, too.” She lowered her phone to her side, stood for a moment staring at the traffic moving in front of her, then turned abruptly to go back inside.
“I’m sorry,” she said, sliding into her seat across the little plastic table from Stevie. “I’m muting my phone for the rest of our evening. Anyone who needs me can leave a voice message or send me a text.”
Stevie sipped from a straw, then set the paper cup of soda aside. “How’s Thad?”
Stevie used almost exactly the same tone whenever she spoke of Thad. Always polite, not quite cool but not really warm, either. Perhaps that warmth would come with time. But even if Stevie and Thad were never close, their careful courtesy was certainly better than the resentment Avery had always exhibited toward herself when she’d dated Gavin.
“Thad’s fine. He’s having dinner with a few names you’d know tonight.” She listed the ones she remembered, including the actor, and watched Stevie nod in recognition.
“Cool. So, Thad’s really working the political connections, huh?”
“He’s certainly drawn in that direction.”
“Does it bother him that you’ve never been all that interested in politics?”