Another round of nodding on my part and we were back to small talk.
“So, tell me why you have so much time to goof around and day drink these days?” I asked, wondering if what he told me about his business endeavor was really true.
“I just signed paperwork on a company. Right now, their current leadership finishes up tasks and helps me clean house, so I have some time to myself before the messy part really begins.”
“Oh. That’s a far cry from me sitting at home in my kitchen on my laptop.”
“Never,” he said somewhat forcefully. “You create something from the ground up with your words, and I rebuild something that someone else already envisioned.”
Desperate to argue the point, I wanted to contradict what he was saying, but was also inclined to drink up the compliment. My well of compliments had long since run dry, leaving me parched and dehydrated.
Sensing my inner debate, Mick said, “Don’t try to argue with me. I’ll win this round. You’re the creator, and I’m the re-doer.”
“That’s very nice of you, but—”
“No buts. Now that you ate, how about that drink?”
“I don’t know,” I said honestly.
“No pressure, but you did say you have an evening to yourself—”
“You know what? I’d like a glass of wine. Here. What I mean is with company, not home by myself.” A little rattled, I grabbed the drink menu without looking at Mick.
Sensing my apprehension, or perhaps his own, Mick turned and looked for Zeus, waving him over.
“Do you know what you would like?” Mick turned to me, and I pointed to the house sauvignon blanc for Zeus.
Mick said, “Make it two,” without looking at my choice, and Zeus was off again.
Smoothing my sweaty palms across the napkin in my lap, I looked up from my empty plate, the salt from the fries still tingling in my mouth. “Two days in a row day drinking. I’m going to be transparent because I don’t want you to think I’m morally bankrupt.”
“Hardly,” Mick said. “I’m the one who should be ashamed. When sparks obviously flowed between us yesterday, I told myself to ignore it. Hell, there are plenty of fish in the sea, right? Ones who aren’t married.”
“There it is. The word we’ve been avoiding. Married.”
“For the record, I decided to let you move on, until the wrist thing. It bugged me all night because I knew ... I knew where that came from and where it was going.”
“Not necessarily,” I said, sitting up straighter.
Mick didn’t get a chance for his rebuttal because Zeus showed up with our wines. Once I had the stem in my hand and almost a sip on my lips, Mick raised his glass.
“To a better ending for you.”
I guessed that was his rebuttal, and a large part of me wanted to believe it was possible. Despite my arguments, he was right. My marriage wasn’t going somewhere good.
“Well, between the day drinking and being a mom and the marriage thing, I still want you to know I have a moral compass. Drinking isn’t something I do regularly. Yes, I like to be included in the occasional girls’ night out, and when my sorority sister Tammy comes to town, we go out. But the other—meeting men and spending time with them—I’ve never done that.”
“Margo, I don’t think you’re morally bankrupt. First, I think you’re gorgeous. Seriously stunning. Of course, attraction always catches the eye. But five minutes into talking with you, and I knew you have a better soul than most. You try to tamp it down, but you can’t avoid it shining through.”
My heart pounded harder with every word. Tommy never told me I was pretty, let alone stunning, but that wasn’t it. It was the way Mick saw through my facade, clear through my shell and straight to my soul.
He leaned a little closer across the table so his words would wind their way to only me. “Then there’s your passion for your writing, and it’s clear you love your daughter more than I could comprehend. I’m thinking that’s only the beginning of where your beauty begins.”
“Mick,” I said softly, his name a shallow whisper. “I can’t. This is too much.”
“It’s just lunch.” He turned the tables on me, easily shifting the mood and not expecting compliments in return.
“A good lunch,” I said, and it was.
