Chapter 14 #2
“Personally, I think it’d be a hit. I’m pretty bad, though. My mom is the piano prodigy.”
Of course Katie was, Danika thought.
“Ah, I forgot to call her back.” Chat tipped his head as if talking to himself. He looked surprised and guilty as he glanced
to Danika, who was pretending not to have heard.
Danika hoped he didn’t notice how anytime he mentioned his family, she shut down. Originally, she thought she’d actually pry
into the subject—she was so eager to hear what they were up to, how they were—but in reality, each time the subject surfaced,
she went quiet. She didn’t want to risk revealing herself. For better or worse, Chat also didn’t mention his family often.
Danika was still relieved that the few times she had heard him on the phone with his mom, he’d continued to refer to Danika
as Mrs. Crawley, never using her first name. Surely if Katie heard “Danika,” it would make her pause.
After running a few errands, they headed toward the lower level, where Oval encompassed half floor. They stepped onto the
escalator behind a woman in a tweed dress and a man in a checked sports coat, and as they floated downward, Chat leaned up
to Danika.
“Hey, I think you lied to me,” he whispered.
Danika heartbeat grew in her ears. “What?”
“I think I am underdressed.” He nodded toward the regal-looking couple.
Relief folded over her. “Absolutely not. You look great.”
Time slipped by as Danika explored the showroom, soaking in natural woods and crisp fabrics, all the low-lit lamps. She circled
the latest collections, the dining tables she’d been coveting. Danika was a regular by now, and salespeople flocked to her.
Danika grew lost in thought as she worked, imagining each piece in Briar Ridge. She was so entranced that she had no idea
how much time had passed when she heard her phone ding—their reservation reminder.
“Oh, shoot.” She sat up fast from a sectional. She searched for Chat, who sat at a nearby desk, looking at his phone. “Hungry?” she called out.
Danika said her goodbyes and promised to call in orders that evening. Part of her was disappointed to leave, but she was excited
for lunch. She didn’t want to go home yet.
“I really don’t know how you do that,” Chat said.
“What?” She shifted her purse on her shoulder as they started up the escalator.
“Design stuff, decorate. How you make it all look like it does. Those Briar Ridge houses are so empty. I wouldn’t know where
to start. I’d put a bed and a chair in each room and be like, that’s the best I got. You would have died if you saw my dorm
room.”
Danika smoothed her hair, ignoring the butterflies in her stomach. She wasn’t sure Chat had ever complimented her before—not
like this.
“Oh, everyone has talents. I could never play hockey.”
“Oh, I think you’d be pretty good.”
She felt flattered once again. She didn’t want to reveal any more knowledge about her history with hockey, though. She’d already
slipped that day at the Club, talking with that bartender. She’d regretted that immediately. “Who knows. Maybe in another
life.”
“Maybe.”
As predicted, Chat was taken with the restaurant. It was beautiful—dark blue wallpaper and long gold mirrors, ceilings covered
in vines—and the menu was exceptional, a taste of the world. It had everything from Chinese shu mai to Scottish herring to
the cheesy Georgian bread she knew Chat would love. Though he rarely brought up his travel plans, she hoped this would be
a natural way to talk about them; she was finally ready.
As requested, they were seated in her favorite booth in the back. Above, a brass monkey chandelier offered low, warm light that reflected in the speckled mirrors at their sides.
“Okay, so, I think we need to get the shashlik,” Danika said to Chat as the waiter brought her wine and Chat’s Coke. The menu
was huge, and Chat kept flipping it back and forth.
“I don’t want to panic order.” He hunched forward. “Ah, I love Peking duck.”
“Me too,” Danika lied.
Danika felt like she was floating as they ordered and began to eat. Everything was perfect. Together, they rolled slices of
duck in thin, floury pancakes, pulled apart buttery khachapuri, made fun of each other’s chopstick skills. Normally, Danika
wouldn’t eat so much, but she felt as if she were experiencing a parallel world—a life that could have been. Bill and the
boys seemed impossibly far away.
“I think I overdid it,” Chat said as the waiter brought yet another dish. He’d just been telling her about how he wanted to
visit Spain after Germany. Danika tensed, waiting for him to discuss visiting the Baltics—but there was no mention of Latvia.
“Okay.” He put his hands on the table as the waiter left. “I’m going to run to the bathroom. On top of everything, I shouldn’t
have had three of these.” He twisted his Coke glass.
Danika reached for the last of her second glass of wine. She wanted another, but she was driving home. Chat rose and she pointed
him toward the back.
Alone, Danika breathed deeply, rolled the Riesling around on her tongue. She felt more peaceful than she had in a while. She’d
needed this, she realized—she’d needed to escape the house and whatever was going on with Bill.
Thoughts of Bill brought her back to reality, and she pulled out her phone.
She was happy to see no new calls or messages.
She put it back in her purse and studied the table, wondering if they should pack up the leftovers.
She was organizing the dishes when she saw a flash of light, heard a ding.
Chat had left his phone on the table. It had a big crack in it—she’d told him she’d help replace it by summer’s end, though he kept refusing—yet, despite the shattered glass, and despite the fact she was viewing it upside down, she could still read the words on the screen.
It was the LinkedIn app. Accompanied by the words You have one new message from Augie Elling.
Danika froze, her neck straining in place as the world seemed to grow louder around her. She swallowed. Then, before she could
stop herself, she grabbed the phone.
Danika’s fingers moved on reflex as she glanced from the cracked screen to the back of the restaurant, and quickly, she typed
in Chat’s passcode: “1-2-3-4.” She had learned it once when they needed driving directions. It was so Chat. So direct. As
soon as the home screen flashed before her, she opened the LinkedIn app, clicked the inbox, and just like that, as she glided
her finger upward as if raising the volume of her pain, she felt all the ease and joy of the day snatched away.
There were so many messages. Not one or two—but whole conversations, lines of texts. Danika felt physically ill as she scrolled,
pressing her finger to the glass to find the beginning. Finally, she found the first message he’d sent, the night after the
golf tournament. Danika held her hand to her abdomen, all the food she’d eaten threatening to rise. They were flirting. Joking.
Referencing a boat? When had they been on a boat? Danika felt her esophagus burn as suddenly, the phone started to vibrate,
and she dropped it on the table. Mom flashed on the screen alongside Katie’s picture.
“Hey, are you okay?” Chat appeared next to her, standing at the table.
Danika blinked, her mouth dropping open. “Your, here.” She felt faint as she held his phone out to him, shoving it away.
“Oh, damn, thanks.” He reached out, his ears blushing. Had he seen her? Did he know what she’d seen? “I should probably take
this. Do you mind?”
Danika forced a weak smile. As soon as he left, she flagged the waiter and asked for another glass of wine—a half carafe,
actually. Chat always wanted to drive her car. This time, she would let him.
By the time they got home, the boys were watching a movie. Of course, Danika thought, incensed as she stared into the TV’s snowy Arendelle. Bill always sought the easy way out. She didn’t have
it in her to say something, though. Her mind was too pickled with Riesling and consumed with thoughts of Chat and Augie, all
those words. She felt incredibly off—incredibly hurt. She was simultaneously angry at Chat for blatantly lying yet also wanted him closer to her than ever.
On the drive home, Chat had asked what was wrong. She’d swatted it away, but now, as she went to the fridge and poured another
glass of wine, she had to face it. If that girl was going to try to seduce him, Danika needed to at least know he’d stay loyal
to her. That he cared about her. That their friendship and bond were real. She wouldn’t be able to handle it otherwise. She’d
be, once more, alone.
“Ah, this is the best part.” Chat nudged Cooper over on the couch as Olaf started in on his song about summer. Danika sensed
that Chat was about to snuggle up with the boys, and then her chance would be over. She stepped forward.
“Hey, Chat,” she said as he leaned back. “Can we talk for a second?”
Chat paused, sat up. “Sure.”
“Let’s go to the patio.” She held her wine tight and turned on her heels.
Danika didn’t know what she was going to say as they headed toward the enclosed patio, settling into the low armchairs, the sun streaming through the glass around them, lighting up the pale blue cushions and rounded glass coffee table.
She stared at the arrangement of white tulips in the center.
She bit a piece of chapped skin from her lips.
“Look, Chat.” Danika’s mind sputtered. She focused on a single tulip. She truly did not know where she was going with this,
but she plowed forward anyway, some subconscious, desperate part of her taking control. “I wanted to thank you for coming
with me today. I know furniture shopping is not your most favorite activity.”
“No, it was great, I—”
“No, I know, I’m not crazy,” she cut him off. “So really, I appreciate it. I also appreciate your driving home. I’m sorry
that I drank, am drinking, a bit more than usual today.” She winced as she sloshed the wine in her glass, feeling raw and
exposed but maniacally thrilled by it all.