Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
When it came to dealing with the two stressors on her plate, Diana mused just before five in the evening on the following Tuesday, she probably should have reversed the order.
Her date was in an hour, and she’d spent most of the day fretting over her outfit, her hair, her shoes.
She’d ultimately gone with a look that was casual but not too casual: wide-legged jeans, a silk top that put together two patterns in a way that should have clashed but didn’t, and her beloved suede heeled boots, the ones with the heel that was just slender enough to look fancy while remaining just wide enough that it was comfortable for walking.
She’d blown out her hair, adjusted the loose bow at the neckline of her shirt, and made certain that her lipstick was perfect.
And then she’d looked at the clock and realized that she had a full hour and a half remaining before she was due to leave for her date.
Faced with the option of sitting around and waiting for six to arrive, thereby ensuring that each minute felt like an hour, and getting something done, Diana chose productivity.
As she hauled Cadence’s “statement painting” from room to room, however, not sure where to make it fit, she wished that she’d chosen a different kind of productivity.
She didn’t want to get sweaty before her date, after all.
“I should leave you for later,” she told the painting. Talking to décor was probably another sign that it was good that she was getting out there and meeting people. Better to have someone here who could answer.
Part of Diana wanted to throw in the towel, wanted to take this madcap painting back to the gallery so that Cadence could sell it to someone who would appreciate it better than Diana was managing to do.
Her friend had just been so excited about giving Diana the painting. Cadence had gushed about the artist again at their book club, which had made Diana certain that if she went home and looked at it again, really looked, she’d see the painting in an entirely new light.
She had not seen the paining in a new light.
She was trying to determine how hurt Cadence’s feelings would be if Diana hung the painting in the guest bedroom she never used when she glanced at her watch. Ah! The painting would have to wait for another time.
It was time for her date, Diana thought, giddy with nerves an excitement.
The drive to Captain’s Crest, one of the nicer restaurants in town, was quick, but when Diana arrived just a few minutes before they were scheduled to meet, she found Kendrick already waiting, looking pleasantly expectant.
He stood when she approached their table, then bent over to give her polite air kisses over each cheek. Diana was surprised by the gesture, not sure if she found this choice charming or a bit odd… or perhaps even charmingly odd.
She looked over Kendrick subtly as they sat down.
He was as handsome as his profile had shown him to be, and he was dressed a great deal more formally than what Diana had chosen.
They were both wearing outfits that were appropriate for Captain’s Crest’s ambiance, but she had defaulted toward the more casual end of that spectrum, while he had opted for the more formal side.
He looked nice, but the boutique owner in Diana couldn’t help but think that the plain black suit and black tie was a bit… boring.
He probably came directly from work, she reminded herself. Don’t be judgmental.
“I’m so glad we found a time to make this happen,” Kendrick said after they’d perused the menus for a few moments. “It’s been really nice chatting with you.”
She smiled. “Yeah, you too. I can’t believe we never talked about it, but what got you started with online dating? I admit, I was a little nervous about doing the whole app thing. It feels like it’s for young people.”
“I’m young,” Kendrick said, so deadpan that it took Diana a moment to realize that he was kidding, not that he was genuinely offended.
“Oh my goodness,” she said, pressing a hand to her chest as he broke out into a smile. “You made me nervous with that one.”
“Sorry,” he said, chuckling. “Couldn’t resist.”
Their conversation flowed comfortably after that, the inherent awkwardness of meeting a new person tempered by the arrival of their food.
Diana was of the opinion that, if one happened to live in Coastal New England as she did, if you were tempted to get the seafood, you should do it.
As a result, she’d opted for the pan-seared salmon with lemon dill sauce served over a bed of creamy polenta that was seasoned with some herbs she couldn’t quite identify but which she found unquestionably pleasant.
For her side, she’d ordered a beet salad with crumbled goat cheese and candied pecans.
It was a marvelous blend of earthy, tangy, and sweet.
Kendrick, for his part, had selected the grilled lamb chops with mint pesto.
This had come with two sides: roasted herbed fingerling potatoes and roasted brussels sprouts with a bacon and balsamic topping.
Diana wasn’t normally a huge fan of lamb, but Kendrick’s meal looked like it was to die for.
She made a mental note to try the meal next time she was at Captain’s Crest.
“So,” Diana said when they’d each eaten a few bites of their meal and had murmured appropriately about how delicious each element was. “I know you’re a runner and a lawyer, but what else is there to know about Kendrick Chandler?”
He dabbed his mouth politely with his napkin before answering.
“Well, being a lawyer isn’t like it is on TV,” he said, a note of sternness in his tone, as if she had asked him if he was living some kind of Hollywood life.
She blinked, slightly taken aback by his defensiveness, but tried not to judge.
“It’s a lot of work. I’m a junior partner now, and I’m hoping to be promoted to senior partner within a few years, and that means a lot of long hours at the office, I’m afraid. ”
The way he said it felt almost like a warning, but Diana pushed the uncharitable thought aside.
“I can commiserate,” she said kindly. “Sometimes I feel like the boutique is taking up every hour it can. I try to set limits, to make sure I have time to decompress… but it is hard.”
Kendrick’s brow furrowed. “I thought you said you worked in a shop.” It wasn’t quite a question.
Diana felt her smile grow a little strained. “Well, I do, technically. But it’s a fashion boutique, one that I own. We’re actually quite successful. I feel fortunate to be able to say it. Small businesses always face challenges, no matter how hard the owners are working.”
If she expected him to lighten up, to apologize for inadvertently being so dismissive of her career, she was destined for disappointment. Kendrick only looked even more puzzled.
“I thought your profile said you were looking for a relationship with the aim of settling down,” he said. “How are you supposed to manage that if you spend all your time working in some little boutique?”
She didn’t know what stung more, his dismissive tone or his total shock over her having a career and wanting a family.
She knew, logically, that this wasn’t the 1960s.
It wasn’t at all uncommon for a woman to want to continue working in her chosen field, no matter her marital status.
Most families didn’t have a choice, ultimately, as they needed both incomes to get by.
That might not be true for a high-powered lawyer, but most people didn’t have such high-profile, and therefore high-paying, jobs.
She took a deep breath, struggling not to snap back. Maybe it was a slip of the tongue, she reasoned. Maybe he was just a bit awkward about these things. She could try to give him just a little more benefit of the doubt.
“I’m managing it now, aren’t I?” she asked, gesturing between them with her fork. “We’re here, together. Surely that means the two aren’t so incompatible.”
Kendrick didn’t seem convinced. Instead, he looked rather resigned. He put down his own utensils so that he could look at her straight on.
“Maybe I’m a bit old-fashioned,” he began, and Diana’s heart started to sink at once. “And maybe it’s not the style to say such things anymore, although I do think more men think like I do, even these days, than women like you maybe realize.”
Part of her wanted to stand up and stalk out at women like you but she could tell that Kendrick wasn’t trying to be hurtful, so she extended him the same courtesy.
“If your shop is important to you, that’s wonderful,” he said.
“But when I get married, and that is something I’m seeking, I’ll want my wife to stay home and take care of our kids.
I make enough money. This is what all my hard work has been for.
If that’s not something that appeals to you, I think we might just be better off as friends. ”
As far as rejections went, it was a diplomatic one, to be certain. This did not, Diana noticed, lessen the sting very much.
“I think we’ll just call it friends, then,” she said, trying to hide the terse note in her voice.
Privately, she thought that she and Kendrick would never be friends.
Diana had friends, ones that would never refer to her boutique as her “little shop,” as if the business she had spent a decade building was nothing more than an adorable little hobby.
He looked disappointed. Did he really think she would completely throw over her entire life plan because he’d suggested that she should? On a first date no less?
“Of course,” he agreed readily. But he was far less engaged through the remainder of their meal, which passed with a great number of awkward silences breaking up the brief smatterings of conversation.