“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Ever since coffee, you’ve been kind of withdrawn and crabby.”
“Crabby?”
She closed her eyes, reached down to his hand and held it. “I’m sorry. That’s not fair. We’ve both been kind of weird this morning. There’s a lot…well. There’s just a lot. And we haven’t even had a chance to talk about what happened last night. Maybe I’m just the teeniest, weeniest bit insecure that you’re…having second thoughts. About the list. And all of this going on, with my mom and everything, and now introducing me to your kid.”
She put her head on his shoulder, not completely, just her forehead, and she held her body away from his. Her hair was slicked tight into a bun, covered in a sparkly hair net of some kind that poked at his neck.
At first he let her hold herself away. It was a lot. All of it, as she said. The list, how it made them feel, how it made him feel, what had happened last night, what was going on with her mother. Even her tête-à-tête with Bea, their using the spare bedroom as some kind of shared dressing room, creating an intimate space together, was…a lot. He had never seen Bea at so much ease with Rosemary, for example. He couldn’t decide if he liked it, liked all the drama and distress, even as he liked Allie.
But he couldn’t help putting his hand at her back, feeling it bare under the beaded fringe.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Last night was some of the most fun I’ve had in my life. I’m glad I had last night with you.”
She nodded against his shoulder, then looked up at him. She looked mournful, which made him feel quite terrible.
“Me, too. I’m glad, and it was fun. Intense and fun. Winston?”
“Yes?”
“Take the car today. Take Jean. I think you guys miss each other, for one. Plus, I want to walk around New York and see more of it on the way to see my sister. Maybe it would feel a little less…crazy and intense if you just had your normal routines and stuff this morning.”
He felt himself stiffen at her presumptions, but…well. Jean and work and routines sounded fucking good, really. He must have smiled, a little, at her, because she beamed back, all crinkles and freckles.
“Today, you call me. I’d like to see you again, but if we need to part as friends now, if I need to get a hotel—”
“No. Stay. I want to see you, and I want to help. I’d like you to meet Nev and Cath later, if you’d like, but I understand if you may have engagements with May and Ben.”
“I’d like that. I’ll keep you posted.”
He had wanted to kiss her but couldn’t manage it before she swished out, the light from his great view catching every gem and spangle.
He stood in the empty apartment for a long time before he called Jean.
It felt less right than usual.
Chapter 13
Allie guessed that May’s strategy would be to arrive at breakfast early, angry, and prewound to strike.
Allie’s countertactic was to materialize sparkling in jewels, head to toe, and showing a lot of skin in order to baffle and overcome May’s senses, mesmerizing the predator with a show of feathers and misdirection.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Allie.”
Allie twirled.
May had once, in a better mood, called this move her “love-me twirl.” It couldn’t be counted on to please most people, but it usually made May smile.
Today, she only frowned at her handbag, tucking her phone away, and asked the hostess, “Is the table ready?”
They sat in a corner. The restaurant was all corners, tiny tables shoved into a tinier space. Allie remembered hearing from her mother that Ben had been fortunate to be able to open a restaurant at all. His ex, also a chef, had made him sign a noncompete agreement that was supposed to have tied his hands for nearly another year. But she’d opened a Manhattan lunch-counter branch of the restaurant she and Ben used to own together, Sardo, and when she couldn’t make it work, she’d offered Ben the space as a goodwill gesture and released him from their agreement.
He was incredibly lucky to have it, May had told their mother, but to Allie, the restaurant seemed incredibly small, incredibly crowded, and incredibly loud. Surely he could have done better.
The shape of May’s mouth suggested this wasn’t the right moment to say so.