Part 4 (1/2)
”Yes, now. It is lunch time.”
”I can't. I'm hoping to negotiate a price on a painting and it would be a bad idea to leave now.”
”Then how long?”
”Maybe a half-hour.”
”A half-hour? I don't think I feel like waiting around for a half-hour. But-okay. I'll wait. Try to hurry. I'll be in the bar.”
I was anything but composed as I took a seat across from Josh, but he didn't seem to notice. ”So,” I said brightly, ”tell me about all this work you've got. It's going that good, is it?”
”California has its advantages. Still a lot of building starts going on. Plus having a specialty like I do makes it easier.”
Josh was a registered architect, a designer, but he'd gradually moved into a related field where he could put his artistic interests and talent to work. He, along with his staff, created digital renderings of proposed developments for architects and builders; the architects used them to sell to builders, the builders used them to sway the planning commissions and other decision makers whose approval they sought. In these big money deals, Josh's beautiful renderings were well worth the stiff fees he charged.
”So does that mean you're not planning to come back to Glenwood?” I asked.
”Financially, I might as well cut my own throat. But sooner or later I'll get tired of the pace and want to slow down. Then I might be back. In the meantime, I'll visit.” He gave me a quick smile.
I had literally gobbled down my Turkey Rueben, knowing my half-hour was almost up.
”You're hungry, aren't you?” he asked.
I nodded, my mouth full of food.
He waited until I'd swallowed, then began again. ”It's good to see you, Gwyn. Unfortunately, I thought I was completely over you, but I see that's not exactly true. I'll go out on a limb and ask you something, and you can cut me off or leave me dangling. Are you happy with your marriage?”
I hesitated, stunned by the question. ”It's fine,” I said. ”It's fine.”
”But are you happy?”
”If I'm not totally happy, it's not because of Trevor. I'm still not over losing my sister. I've been seeing a therapist, though I stopped going about two months ago. I may go back. I haven't found a way to handle it yet on my own.”
”Did they ever-find the guy?”
”No.”
”That might help, when they catch him. At least you might find some kind of closure then.”
I shook my head. ”They don't even really know it was him.”
”They don't?”
I'd said too much, and regretted it. ”How can they know? They questioned him once and then he took off.”
Josh blinked, staring at me. ”They'll find him. Eventually they'll find him and then you'll know.”
I didn't want to argue the validity of that premise, since Josh didn't have all the facts. But at least he wasn't talking about my marriage anymore. ”I'm sorry, but I really do have to run, Josh. I want you to call me though.” I gave him my cell phone number and he took it and didn't ask why. ”It was great seeing you. You will promise to call, won't you?”
”Don't worry. You'll be hearing from me.”
He rose as I stood up from the table to leave, but didn't try to follow me out.
It had been forty-five minutes since I'd talked to Trevor on the phone. I race-walked through town, then ran, getting a few dirty looks as I narrowly missed fellow pedestrians. I burst through the door of the busy restaurant and quickly scanned the bar. But Trevor wasn't there.
I asked the hostess if he'd left a message, and the girl, her eyes gla.s.sy with disinterest at first, suddenly showed life. ”He's still here. We put him upstairs.” She turned to locate a menu, but I didn't wait and hurried toward the stairs.
I saw his back first. He was leaning over the woman's table, nodding his head and gesturing with his hand. The woman was younger, very attractive, loose brown curls cascading down her back. She smiled up at him, her skirt riding high, tan legs crossed, flipping the toe of a high-heeled pump. It left no question about her feelings. She liked the attention.
I chose to ignore him, noticing instead his jacket draped over the back of a nearby chair. I took the seat opposite his, still facing him. After several minutes, he turned and looked back toward the table. Again, he turned toward the woman, but he was standing straighter and I guessed he was about to leave. He reached into his back pocket and presented the woman with a card, then walked over.
He took a seat and looked at me, but I couldn't tell what he was thinking.
”I ordered an appetizer,” he said, ”but I already ate it. Did everything get settled? Did you get the painting for the price you wanted?”
”No, it didn't work out after all. They wanted too much, and I just couldn't see it. But I'm looking at some others.”
He waited, as if I might have more to say on the subject. ”Oh, well.”
”I'm sorry I'm late.”
”Couldn't be helped.”
He was obviously upset, but I decided not to comment on it. ”Did you find some skis?” I asked.
”Yes, as a matter-of-fact, I did. And I found some for you too. I've got them on hold for you to look at, if you're done with your-browsing.”
”What are they?”
”Actually, I found two pair you might like, but the graphics are a little bolder on one. You can see them after we eat.”
The waiter appeared and we ordered. I complained of a nervous stomach and chose a small salad and decaf coffee. Trevor chose a steak sandwich, soup, and dessert.
”So, who were you talking to over there?” I asked finally.
”Maybe a potential client. She might be looking to buy a place in Aspen. Might be bulls.h.i.+t too.”
”I'm sorry I was late.”
”It's over. Forget it.”
He smiled more on the ride back to Glenwood. We had visited the ski shop, purchased the skis, along with two ski sweaters and a one piece ski outfit for Trevor that he seemed interested in. He joined me at the art fair and I took him through it. I ended up making a few minor purchases, but decided to wait on the LaRoche, though I knew that would probably be a mistake. At six, I changed into the good skirt and leather boots I'd left in the car and we walked to The Chart House and had dinner. I didn't see Josh again, and was thankful I wouldn't have to explain anything to Trevor.
”So, it was a good day?” he asked as we pulled into the driveway, the garage door rolling upwards as the Cadillac neared.
”Yes, I enjoyed it. Did you?”