Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Third Course
JAMIE
Jamie was munching on her last scrumptious baby artichoke in white wine citrus sauce when Cliff returned to the table.
He used his linen napkin to wipe his forehead.
She noticed he’d gotten sweaty. It was fairly warm in the room, but not enough to break a sweat.
She cast a glance his way. But he did not return it; rather, he glanced at his phone and began texting.
As Cliff texted away, Jamie puzzled at what had darkened his mood. Her curiosity piqued, she let her mind play it out—which almost always ended in unqualified disaster. Something about the way he’d cupped his phone and walked away. Cliff was hiding something.
A memory flashed in her mind of a deleted text message, a hushed phone call, a crumpled receipt.
That moment seared in her heart when she found out Nathan had been engaged to another woman the entire time she was falling in love with him.
Five years ago. She’d packed it all away like a dusty photo album lost in an attic, until moments like this that commanded her to pay attention to the spiking warning signs.
Memories of that day came screaming back—sharp, clear, and jagged.
The end of a dream, the end of lie, the end of a pregnancy.
She had been a fool. A dalliance. A distraction.
Nothing more. She was deep in thought and hadn’t heard the question from Kyle when he nudged her.
“What destination is on your bucket list?”
Jamie snapped to and let the question hang in the air. She looked around and blinked. “Looks like we’re doing the icebreakers after all?”
Rick grumbled, “I suppose.”
“Cape Town, then safari in Botswana,” Holly said brightly.
Shannon offered, “Bora Bora on one of those over the water bungalows.”
“Maybe Nagrand,” Kyle offered wistfully.
Shannon raised her eyebrow toward Kyle.
“Where’s that?” Rick barked.
Kyle’s eyes grew wide. “What? Oh, nothing. I meant Hawaii.”
But Shannon kept her eye on Kyle, a tiny smile on her lips.
“Well, for me, I think it’s Antarctica.” Rick sat there, self-satisfied and cocky. “I’d like to re-create Shackleton’s expedition.”
“Didn’t they suffer for like a year, their ship frozen in ice? Almost resorting to cannibalism?” Holly asked.
Rick considered this. “Fair point. Then I’d like to ride one of Elon’s rockets into deep space.” Rick gestured toward Jamie for her answer. There was a collective eye roll at the table.
Jamie offered up, “Well since I can’t top deep space as an answer, I’ll stick to France. Specifically, the southern beaches and wine country.”
“Bor-ing,” Rick sang in a game show buzzer-like sting.
Jamie sighed. Holly came to her aid. “Rick, there’s no need to chastise her like that. Her super lame choice is hers.”
“Hey!” Jamie protested.
Rick was undeterred. “Come on. That’s the best you go? South of France? I do that like once a year!”
“Your need to impress people is annoying,” Holly said to Rick.
“It’s not my fault the rest of the world doesn’t use their passport!” he retorted. “I live a vibrant, full life. I should be able to talk about it.”
Holly nodded. “You are insufferable but correct.”
“Thank you?” Rick took a large gulp of his expensive wine and began to badger Holly as to what constituted an exotic vacation. Shannon and Kyle were having a quiet sideline conversation about Hawaii versus Bora Bora.
Cliff had returned and spoke in a low voice only Jamie could hear. “I know a little vineyard in the Gigondas region of France where they do tastings in caves carved out of the hillside. It’s cool and dark and you can see the Mediterranean and sip Sancerre at sunset.”
“I like sunsets.” Jamie smiled, feeling high again now that Cliff was back, their connection growing, flirtation on point. “When can we leave?”
Cliff pointed to the approaching menace of a waitress. “Not until the duck course apparently.”
Amber and Justin the bartender were headed their way, arms full of trays of Chef Pascal’s next dish, the prelude to the duck. The entire table stopped talking when the food arrived, steam rising, the aroma bright and intoxicating.
There before them were perfectly plated mussels drizzled with a rich chorizo sauce, atop a Daikon radish with one delicate sprig of mint.
Chef Pascale came out. He explained the nuances of the third course in elegant detail.
Jamie looked around at everyone, but when she glanced at Cliff, he returned it.
It was like playing hide-and-seek with your eyes, except you wanted to be found.
“Bon appétit,” Chef said in his charming accent, and then retreated back into the kitchen.
Everyone picked up their forks. Jamie was hungry for everything life could offer, including dinner.