"So what's your staff like?"
A look of relief passed her face at my abrupt change of subject. I didn't want to make her uncomfortable with my leering and the way my thoughts were pivoting, I too needed a reprieve.
She launched into a detailed rundown of her employees. Hearing her talk about them, I could tell there was a mutual liking and respect. It was evident in the teasing looks they gave me, the comfortable way Rach entered her office, and the warmth that Maria greeted her with.
I ended up telling her about my embarrassing incident of showing up to her salon only to chicken out. I was pretty confident that Rach recognized me as the doofus who couldn't leave fast enough. Better the story came from my point of view than her unflattering angle. Maria almost snorted her drink out her nose, her delighted laugh warming my soul. As we chatted and laughed with each other, I marveled again at how seamless it all felt with her.
"Can I ask you something?" Maria softly asked as she leaned back in her chair. Our lunch was organically coming to an end, and we were starting to pack up slowly.
"Of course," I invited as I scooped the crumbs from my sandwich back into my wrapper.
Maria bobbed the large straw in her drink up and down as she regarded me with wary eyes. "Tell me to mind my own business if you want, but...your wife..."
My body tensed as she trailed off. I cleared my throat and swallowed down the lump that was forming.
"Hannah." My voice sounded low and guttural to my ears. I cleared my throat again.
"Right." She stopped playing with her straw and placed her almost empty cup on her desk. "Can I ask how long ago did she pass?"
My stomach clenched in discomfort. I was used to the morbid curiosity that came with my widower status. Mainly from women who gazed at me with soft, glassy eyes, their fingers grasping my bicep in pronounced sympathy. I always drew their attention away from the subject. I was protective of Hannah andour relationship and didn't want to soil her memory by sharing too much of her with women I only saw as bed warmers.
I didn't place Maria in the same category as the women who came after Hannah, yet I still wasn't comfortable discussing my late wife with her. Something in my outer consciousness knew that the moment I disclosed that part of myself to her, meant I was truly moving on. It wasn't a step I felt ready to take yet.
"Four years."
Her mouth turned down in sympathy. "Have you dated anyone else since then?" she softly asked.
I squirmed in my seat, my gaze dropping from hers. "A little bit. But nothing that stuck."
I wanted to be honest with Maria, but I also didn't want her running for the hills if she knew that"a little bit"was grossly understated.
"Sorry, I can see you're not comfortable talking about it. I guess I was just...curious." She gave me an apologetic smile. "Sorry if I was pushing."
"No, no, it's fine. One day, we can talk about it."
I was surprised at how sincere those words felt. I already touched briefly about losing my parents and how Hannah's family had embraced me as a son. Maria didn't push me for more details, just as I could sense that her mom was a sensitive subject for her. She listened and watched me with expressive interest as if she understood by her own trauma and grief. I appreciated that more than prolonged sympathetic touches and feigned questions meant to illicit private information I didn't feel comfortable giving.
Maria just listened and allowed me to disclose what I felt comfortable with. Even though I wasn't ready to open up about Hannah, I was pleased she was curious about my life. Our connection would only deepen in time; I could feel it.
"Anyway, I better get back to work." I stood, and Maria did, too.
"Of course.” She came around the desk, striding to the door with those sexy, long legs. I couldn't help my gaze falling naturally to her high ass. She opened the door and sent me a soft smile.
"Thank you for lunch."
I paused at the door, my steps heavy from having to leave. She peered up at me, her piercing blue eyes hitting me in the chest. I knew Maria's colleagues were probably chomping at the bit to question her, so I didn't want to fuel the gossip train despite wanting to kiss her again. Instead, I reached out and stroked her soft cheek before tucking a curtain of hair behind her ear in a farewell gesture.
That whole day, I had a smile on my face. To the point where my boys told me I was creeping them out. I took their ribbing with a laugh, not letting their suggestive comments about taking a prolonged lunch unravel me.
It didn't even phase me when I had to stay back an extra hour and a half when one of the boys forgot to run a pipe under a baseboard. Water off a duck's back with the mood I was in.
I pulled up to my house, exhausted but happy. I climbed out of my car, whistling a nonsensical tune. The melody died quickly on my lips.
Sarah was on my doorstep.
Crying.
Chapter 11
