Chapter 21 #2
It was strange, Theo thought as he continued to drive.
Listening to Callie’s favorite song with Juliet at his side yanked him back through time in a profound and terrifying way.
Why did music have that effect? Food could do that to you, too.
a flavor that his mother had used in her recipes sometimes brought tears to his eyes.
When they reached Manhattan, Juliet gave him directions for a parking garage not far from her Greenwich Village apartment.
They got out and walked through the sticky heat, soundtracked by horns.
Theo saw many men and women passing by, analyzing Theo and Juliet.
He wondered if they thought Juliet was too good-looking for Theo.
Maybe they already assumed they were just friends or colleagues.
This was another thing he’d resented Juliet for back in high school.
Popular guys had always teased Theo, saying that he was trying to bat out of his league.
Theo had always told them that he wasn’t trying to date Juliet.
That they were best friends. But had that ever really been true?
Well, he’d stopped going after her during the spring of 2005—when his heart had opened up to Callie. He stopped short at the corner and wrapped his hand around a pole to steady himself.
“You good?” Juliet asked, touching his shoulder. This was the first contact they’d had in nearly a month, and Theo nearly jumped out of his skin.
“I’m okay,” he whispered. “I really am.”
It took all of ten minutes to deal with Juliet’s tenants before they were back on the road and headed for their first dinner destination, where Juliet wanted to show him the specific ways the cocktails were paired with the small dishes.
When they walked in, a smartly dressed hostess led them to a table with a dynamic view of the darkening city.
Lights came on in all directions, illuminating the skyline, but the sunset still burned with subtle shades of red and yellow.
Theo felt self-conscious and slightly underdressed.
But he followed Juliet’s lead, ordering a cocktail that intrigued him with its ingredients like bergamot and egg white, and ordered several small plates that already invigorated his creative spirit.
When their drinks arrived, Juliet and Theo clinked their glasses and studied one another.
It was as though the previous three weeks of working together suddenly occurred to them, and they laughed gently.
Theo thought that pointing it out might ruin it, so he tried to think of something, anything else to say. “You’ve been here before?”
Juliet nodded. “My ex-husband took me here for my birthday one year. Our friends came, other people who lived in our swanky building. We ran into a few people from our neighborhood while we were here, which I remember being a good thing, as it was always good for Alvin to schmooze with potential clients. He was a lawyer. Is a lawyer, I guess.”
“I remember,” Theo said, thinking of that night before she’d married him. “You called me and told me you were marrying Alvin the lawyer.”
Juliet winced and set down her cocktail. “If only you’d told me not to marry Alvin the lawyer.”
“You never would have listened to me. You never listened to anyone,” Theo said, but there was no malice in his tone.
Juliet squinted at him, as though she were trying to make sense of the puzzle of him. “I thought in coming here tonight that I would want to get back to the city immediately. I thought I would feel that I’ve missed everything. But instead, I find it… stressful? Loud?”
Theo laughed. These were all adjectives he might have used, but he’d never been a city guy.
He remembered, after Marie had left him, how she’d called him from Manhattan, and he’d heard a thousand car horns and angry street-walkers and thought, I can’t follow her, no matter how alone I feel.
So he’d stayed in Bluebell Cove, perhaps pathetically, and waited for something to happen to him.
Was Juliet coming back that “something”?
“I lost you again,” Juliet said.
“I’m lost in my head, I guess,” Theo offered.
But a split-second later, the first of the small plates arrived, and their minds and palates were allowed a wonderful reprieve, one that took them on an adventure of flavor and spice.
By the time the end of the night came around, they’d each had two cocktails and a glass of wine, and Theo felt unsteady but also hilarious.
He bubbled with laughter and good conversation.
Had he heard himself from another table, he might have thought he was charming.
He could tell from the glow in Juliet’s eyes that she thought he was charming, too.
When they reached the hotel, they took the elevator to the fifth floor, then stood outside their rooms for a full five minutes, talking about their dinner and Theo’s new ideas for the restaurant.
Juliet had taken off her heels, and they hung from the scoop of her thumb.
Theo had the thought that this was the most attractive thing he’d ever seen.
Something in Juliet’s eyes told him that it would be all right—maybe even good—if he leaned over and kissed her. But Theo held himself back, unwilling to complicate something that had been so wonderful, so good. Juliet was his friend again. He didn’t dare ask for anything else from the universe.
Juliet and Theo were not meant to be. So when the next natural break in the conversation came, Theo raised his hand and gave a half-hearted wave. “See you tomorrow morning for breakfast?”
She high-fived him awkwardly. “Good night,” she said. “Sleep well.”
With that, Theo strolled into his private hotel room, fell belly-first onto the mattress, and groaned into the comforter. He said, “Why, why, why, why?” But he wasn’t entirely sure what question he was asking, nor why his heart ached so.