“No idea.”
“Me neither.”
Sette tucked more of June’s hair back. It was an excuse to touch her face and nothing more. “All we can do is prepare for the future. We don’t actually know what’s going to happen.”
“Pragmatic for an artist.”
“I was a doctor first.”
June held her ice cream to the side so she could lean in and peck Sette on the lips. “You’re sweet. I mean it. This is the most low-key date I’ve ever been on, and I’m already having a lot of fun.”
Her heart warmed to hear it.
Sette could’ve done the usual rich girl routine with her. She had done it with other women before, and God knew she watched Zara and others do it constantly. She could dress June up in a beautiful gown. Take her to the fanciest restaurant in town. Take her to the opera or any number of galleries she was familiar with. Parties. Soirees. Galas. There were a million opportunities to show her off to the world.
Women she took on the circuit were for appearances only. To remind the world that she was capable of socializing. These kinds of dates were different. They were for her, first and foremost.I would give up every gala for the rest of my life if it meant having more dates like this one.She pulled June into a deep, satisfying kiss right in the middle of the sidewalk. Normally, she would deride PDA, but for the first time in her life, it felt right. Necessary.
June was the first one to break away. “I’m glad I got to come out on a date with you,” she whispered. “I’m looking forward to more.”
Sette took her home for dinner, having already bought enough groceries to feed Cox’s army. June stood on the stoop of the townhouse, taking it in – and taking pictures. “Chelsea loves this kind of old architecture. She’ll go crazy for this.”
She took more pictures of the interior. Sette never thought much of her décor before. It was minimal as a result, but at least there were paintings and prints she considered special. June squealed over the Picasso originals. Sette didn’t have the heart to tell her that having a Picasso wasn’t a big deal, especially for an art collector.
While June wandered around the spacious townhouse, Sette started dinner in the kitchen. One of her favorite dishes to make was Greek spaghetti, complete with capers, olives, and feta cheese. The original recipe didn’t call for fresh tomatoes, but she always added those instead of a lot of sauce, anyway. On the side, she made an autumn salad of squash and pumpkin, sprinkled with lemon juice and a dash of vinegar. By the time her concoction was cooking on the stove, June was sitting at the counter, demanding that Sette cook faster to satiate her empty stomach.
“When are you going to show me your paintings, hm?” She nodded to the one door that remained closed. Sette had allowed her to snoop in all the others, including the bedroom. “I’ve only seen that one you gave me. I want to see the whole collection.”
“Later. After dinner.” Sette had planned that out, too. “Do you like garlic bread?”
“Do I like… are you going to load me up with some carbs or what?”
Grinning, Sette pulled the bread out of its box and found the garlic butter in the fridge. “Don’t get to eat this many carbs usually, huh?”
“Do you remember what I do for a living? I’m not in my early twenties anymore. I have to watch the carbs, sodium, and sugar. The chefs at the Manoir are good, but… I get tired of lean protein and whole grain brown rice all the time.”
“Vegetables are okay, though?”
“Vegetables are totally okay.”
Sette set the table with crimson China dishware and long, tapered candles. After lighting all three, she dug through her small but extravagant wine collection and pulled out the first red she saw. June whistled to see the make and vintage.
“Good taste, Dr. Christie.”
She winked at her. “I’m with you, aren’t I?”
June brought the salad and bread over to the table. “I see your point, and it’s a good one.”
It took all the discipline Sette learned in med school not to kiss her right there.Plenty of time. After dinner. I’m going to explode. Preferably all over the bedroom, but she was fine with the living room couch, too. Been a long time since she was on top of a woman on the couch…
The first thing June said after their meal started was, “I didn’t know you cooked, let alone this well.” She drank the expensive wine for effect.
“I’m not a chef by any means, but I like to cook when I can. Simple things. I saw too much horror in med school. The things people put into their bodies…” Said the woman who would eat a whole box of Ho-Hos without thinking. Every artist had her crutch when she was on a tear in the studio. Chocolatey, creamy supermarket donuts were hers.
“You talk about being a doctor a lot, but you always sound so… I dunno what word to use. Not bitter. Not angry. So unimpressed.”
“Suppose you could say that. I never really wanted to be a doctor. It was a family thing.”
“I’ve heard that. Lawyers, too.” June spoke without thinking. “There’s a lot of pressure to fall in line with the family trade, right?”
