“Of course.”
We head over to the shop, and I widen my step to keep up with him. We talk about our families. When he mentions Renee, I picture her at her store, her easy smile, the fall of her long golden locks, Grant just behind her, his hand on her hip. For a moment, I wonder if I should mention it to Joel. But there’s no way I would. It’s really none of my business. And I couldn’t stand the heartache it would cause him. As they say, what you don’t know can’t hurt you.
As much as I like Joel, I’m not looking to hook up with him. I’m not looking to steal him away from his wife. I’m not a home wrecker. I’m not looking to cheat on my husband and wreck both our lives.
And there’s no way I’m going to bring up Ava either, especially when I haven’t even spoken to Brian about it.
The Stylish Jesteris a fantastic place, and I can’t believe I’ve never been here before. Joel tells me he’s here all the time, and when he chats up Charlene, the boutique owner, it becomes quite obvious that he’s a regular. My eyes dart across the space — it’s so colorful; funky prints and bright colors abound. Andy Warhol prints dot the walls, and a colorful bowl of lollipops sits at the counter. Charlene is wearing a rainbow dress, paired with tall lace-up boots, pigtails, red lipstick and black hipster glasses.
I’m drawn to a mannequin wearing a fifties inspired polka dot pink dress. I drag my fingers along the fabric. I love it, but I’m not quite sure it’s me.
“Don’t you love that?” Joel says.
“I do,” I tell him. “But I’m not sure it’s me. It’s a little flamboyant. I’m usually more conservative.”
He smiles widely. “Just because you’re an accountant, doesn’t mean you have to dress like one. If anyone can pull that dress off, it’s you,” he tells me. “With your tiny frame and cute hair…” His words trail off.
“You don’t think I’m too old for it?”
He laughs. “Well, if you’re too old, I am too. How old are you, anyway?”
I just love how direct he is. “Thirty-six.”
His jaw drops. “Me too!”
I knew that.
“When’s your birthday?” he asks.
“April 17th.”
“Mine is August 15th,” he says, beaming. “I’m younger than you.”
I knew that too.“Oh, well, perhaps I should be careful. You young things are so wild.”
He laughs and grabs the dress in a size small. “You’re trying it on.”
26
He selects some black pumps for me to try on with the dress — size seven. I smile as he hands them to me, and I wonder for a second if Brian even knows my shoe size.
“I’d like to browse a little more before I go try this on,” I tell him. I want to chat. I need more intel. I absentmindedly peruse the colorful clothing on the hangers, feeling their textures between my fingers; silk, soft cotton, sheer fabrics. I press some items against the length of my body. “So how long have you and Renee been together?” I ask. A very acceptable question, yet my heart is pounding.
He grins. “Forever,” he says, not a hint of regret in his tone. “Since grade nine in high school… this blouse would look great on you.” He pulls a pretty frilly short sleeved white blouse from the rack.
I pick it up and pretend to study it. “Wow… so…” I do the match quickly in my head — I have mad math skills. “Twenty-two years.”
He laughs. “I guess. Damn… I’m old.”
“Me too,” I joke. So it appears that Brian was not the only one who cheated. Renee was guilty too. I’m suddenly brought back to her store and the sight of Grant’s hand pressed so intimately on her hip. Joel doesn’t deserve this — he’s a sweet guy. I want to say something but it would be inappropriate to meddle. I also don’t want to blow my cover. I don’t want him to know what a crazy stalker I really am. I like the version of me he sees — a sweet, normal woman.
Not too many people see me that way.
“Brian and I are high school sweethearts too… twenty years together.”
“Really?” he says. “Isn’t it amazing how you and I have so much in common?”
“Do we?” We actually do, which is probably the reason I’m so obsessed with him. Our friendship feels like a meeting of souls. It’s brand new, but it feels deeper, more real than many other friendships I’ve had.
