Chapter 8
H urrying into the busy restaurant, Fiona slung her purse over the back of one chair and sank into another opposite Hilary.
“I am so sorry I’m late. City council members came for a tour, and then the mayor wanted a photo op.
I couldn’t get rid of them.” She scowled her frustration.
Punctuality was a virtue, and she was mortified not to be on time.
Hilary waved away her concerns, setting her e-reader down on the table. “Politicians are a necessary evil. Besides, I got in some reading.”
Smiling her thanks, Fiona picked up her glass of water and drank deeply.
When Keeney Builds was in its infancy, she and Hilary met regularly, fine-tuning the intricacies of the program.
Now, with three rotations of students completed, the weekly meetings weren’t necessary, but a friendship had developed, and the women continued to meet weekly for drinks instead of lunch.
Seeing Fiona’s arrival, an attentive waiter approached, reached into an ice bucket for a chilling bottle of chardonnay, poured wine into each of the women’s glasses, then left them alone. The women raised their glasses in silent salute, then drank.
Fiona sat back and sighed. “Is it me, or was this the longest week in history?”
“Pretty sure it’s among the top three, and it’s only Tuesday,” Hilary agreed. “But forget about work. How are you settling in?” She’d been the previous and original tenant in Fiona’s apartment.
“Good. Really good. You were right about that outlet in the guest bedroom. Sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t. Should I tell Iris or hire an electrician? I’ve never had a landlady before, and I don’t know the protocol.”
“Crap! I totally forgot about that.” Hilary put her glass down and dug around in her purse for her cellphone. “I’ll put it on the schedule and get one of the guys to take care of it.”
“You don’t need to do that,” Fiona protested.
Rolling her eyes, Hilary said, “When you tell Iris, she’ll call me, and I’ll wind up doing the same thing. Let’s see…Tomas can take care of it on Friday at four o’clock. Will that work for you?”
“No!”
Hilary raised an eyebrow at her outburst.
“I mean…I’m sure Tomas has more important things to do. Can’t you send an intern? Don’t they need the experience?” Fiona struggled to come up with an excuse.
“Interns are always accompanied by a contractor,” Hilary said as if explaining to a child. It was a condition she and Fiona had ironed out when the program was put in place.
Nodding weakly, Fiona buried her nose in her wineglass. Maybe she could leave the key under the door mat….
“Well, crap, that’s not going to work,” Hilary looked up from her phone. “Tomas isn’t free. I can send Carl, though. How’s that?”
“Perfect!” Fiona sent up a prayer of thanks. Although he was a sweet, good-looking guy, Carl didn’t make her fumble and stumble in his presence.
“Done.” Hilary put her phone on the table. “Has your mom been by to see the place yet?”
“No. I’m not sure I want her to. I’m not ready for her to look down her nose at my decorating choices.”
Raising an eyebrow, Hilary gave her a sympathetic smile. “You don’t know that she will do that.”
Fiona rolled her eyes. “Umm hmm. Oh, but get this. I went to give Iris the rent, and she told me it had already been paid. By my mother.”
“That’s nice. Isn’t it?”
“No!” Fiona glared at her friend. “It’s a control thing. She’ll hold this over my head in the future.” Her mother was an expert at manipulation.
Reaching across the table, Hilary removed the knife Fiona clutched tightly, and put it next to her own.
Chagrined, Fiona relaxed her hands, picked up her wineglass, and sat back.
“But I have a plan. I’ll set up a separate account specifically for the rent money and deposit it there.
When my mother decides to play the I’ve-been-paying-your-rent card, I’ll write her a check for the amount and throw that back at her.
Yes, I know it’s petty, but that is my mother’s love language, and apparently, it’s mine as well.
” Fiona drank deeply, rather pleased with herself.
Hilary shook her head. “You are not a petty person. You always give the other person the benefit of the doubt. Are you sure you want to do that?”
Before Fiona could reply, a text came in on Hilary’s phone. “Oh! Vincent just finished up an estimation at a shop on Main Street. Do you mind if he joins us?”
Although disappointed that their alone time was being cut short, Fiona acquiesced upon seeing the look of pleasure on her friend’s face.
In her years with Eddie, she didn’t think she’d ever worn that joyous an expression on her face.
“Not at all!” She reached for the bottle of wine and refilled her glass.
The conversation then became less personal and more general, Fiona reaching for her wine frequently as she considered Hilary’s words.
Did she really give people the benefit of the doubt?
Maybe before Eddie. But since his betrayal and deception, she had developed a hard shell.
One that she was not willing to allow anyone to penetrate.
Thoughts of penetration turned to thoughts of Tomas and thoughts of?—
“Hey!”
Hilary’s greeting roused Fiona from her thoughts. Blinking rapidly, she pressed her thighs together, shifting in her chair. Taking a deep, centering breath, she pasted a smile on her face, looked up, and saw Vincent approaching their table, followed closely by Tomas.
K nowing she was seeing someone, knowing she was unavailable, should have made Tomas resigned and accepting of his fate. Knowing full well Fiona would be there, he should have declined Vincent’s suggestion of going out for a beer. Instead, he’d gone, and was a dick.
He greeted Hilary and ignored Fiona.
He talked to Vincent and Hilary and ignored Fiona.
When Vincent glared at him, trying to bring Fiona into the conversation, Tomas ignored Fiona.
When Fiona asked him directly about the progress of the latest class, he answered with one word, “Fine.”
When a visibly wilted Fiona got up to go to the restroom, Hilary rounded on him, letting loose with both barrels. “What the hell is wrong with you? She’s a friend of mine and a work associate. You’d better have a good explanation for treating her like shit.”
Before Tomas could respond, Vincent punched him in the arm. “What she said. What’s going on?”
Tomas scowled but remained silent.
Locking her gaze on her husband, Hilary’s voice turned saccharine sweet. “Honey, isn’t the fashion show at the Senior Center coming up soon?”
“Yeah. And?”
“KBS gets a lot of goodwill when our employees volunteer as escorts for the models. You and Carl looked so handsome in tuxedos.”
Crossing his arms, Vincent said flatly, “I’m not doing it again.”
“You don’t have to. Another of our contractors will be doing so.” Hilary looked directly at Tomas, eyes narrowed, and lips thinned.
“Oh, hell no.” Tomas went pale, the thought of being on stage in front of a crowd making him sweat.
Hilary leaned across the table. “Then tell us why you’re being mean to Fiona.”
Shit. Glancing between his boss and his friend, Tomas realized there was no way out. He raked his fingers through his hair and blew out a breath. “She kissed me.” His back stiffened when exclamations of shock followed his announcement. Then Hilary’s surprised expression softened into a smile.
“Spill, before Fiona gets back here,” she ordered.
He told them about driving her home, her getting drunk and painting the garage with nail polish, him carrying her to bed, her kissing him then ghosting him, seeing her at the board meeting, her apology in the parking lot, and ended with his last visit to Keeney Works.
“Now, she’s seeing someone.” While it felt good to share, exposing his wound did not feel like a healing process.
Hilary’s mouth opened as if to speak, when Vincent grabbed her arm. “Shh, she’s coming back.”
The three turned to watch her approach. From across the crowded restaurant, Tomas was free to observe her.
The woman could not hold her alcohol and wove slightly.
A strand of hair had broken free from her tight bun and hung in front of her ear.
Absentmindedly, she raised a hand to push it back, the movement causing her to sway even more.
God, she was cute. More than cute, she was perfect.
She stood out from the Keeney happy hour crowd in her form-fitting pale pink skirt and matching short-sleeved blouse.
The ivory heels gave her another four inches, but even with that, Tomas knew, that holding her, she would barely reach his shoulder.
A tiny piece of perfection, if only she were his.
Reaching the table, she picked up her purse, her gaze passing over Tomas as she smiled at Vincent then spoke to Hilary. “I’m gonna get going. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Got a ride?” Vincent asked.
“Yeah.” Fiona shifted her gaze to him. “I Ubered over, and my brother Joseph is picking me up.”
“Is that who you had dinner with the other night? Iris said a handsome man was at your place.” Hilary’s foot connected with Tomas’s shin as she shot him a side-eye.
Fiona nodded. “He came to see my new place.” Her phone chimed in her purse. “That’s him. I’ll see you later.”
“You moron!” Vincent smacked Tomas, who ignored him, feeling like the dick he was, as he watched the tiny, perfect woman walk away.