Page 42 of Infidelity Rules

Daily Special

Baby lamb chops with olive oil and oregano

Israeli couscous with preserved lemon

Beet and goat cheese salad with pistachios and dill

I arrive at Persimmon rather cranky, but tonight’s menu helps cheer me up.

There’s nothing about this menu I don’t love — lamb!

Beets! Preserved lemon! And Chef makes his own couscous by hand, so it’s an absolute treat whenever he decides to make it.

And now that I’m back in Chef’s good graces, I know he’ll save me a plate.

Hmmmm, now for the wine pairings. I choose a Sonoma County old vine zinfandel and a Spanish Rioja, both of which will complement the lamb and the pungent preserved lemon.

I’m about to wander into the kitchen to say a quick hello to Chef when my phone pings.

My brother.

Alex: How are you holding up?

Me: Okay. A lot to think about.

Alex: Yup. That’s why I’m checking in. Any decisions?

Me: Nope.

Alex: If you don’t make one, a decision will be made for you.

Me: Gee, thanks for that brilliant tidbit. At work, gotta run. Talk more later.

“Quinn,” I hear Chef boom at me as I quickly tuck my phone away and head into the kitchen. “Your cheese man tells me he’s coming tonight and bringing a date.”

He is? Dezi didn’t mention it, but perhaps she doesn’t even know.

“Treat him like a king. Bottle of wine is on the house,” he says.

“You got it Chef. Great menu tonight, by the way.”

“Yes,” he says, nodding. “I’ll save you a plate.”

Nice, Dezi and Elliot will be a good distraction for me tonight. And I’m delighted he chose Persimmon. I’m going to view this as yet another olive branch. I peer into the dining room but it’s still early and our first patrons are just being seated.

I ask our hostess to save our best two-top for Dezi and Elliot and then venture into the wine cellar to take stock and collect my bottles for tonight.

An hour later the restaurant is humming.

I’ve got five tables settled with bottles of wine, two with a variety of glasses to sip, two doing the wine pairings and several more indulging in cocktails and beer.

Chef’s lamb special, his roast chicken and the Baltimore-style crab cakes are the popular menu items this evening.

I’m busy and almost forget about Elliot and Dezi until I look up and see Dezi waving at me. They are just now being seated at a romantic two-top by the windows.

I hustle over and swoop my friend into a hug. I look at Elliot tentatively as I’m not sure if we’re on hugging terms again, but he just nods and gives me a small smile. “I wanted to surprise Dezi,” he says. “I’ve never eaten here and she always raves about it. And I know she misses you.”

Yes! Olive branch!

“Well, I’m delighted to see you both,” I say, smiling. “And I’m under strict orders from Chef to provide the royal treatment.”

I give them some time to settle in and select a rather nice bottle of Champagne for them, on the house. I notice Elliot has just excused himself from the table, so I head over to chat with Dezi for a few minutes.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” I say.

“Me too. Hey, have you recovered from ‘Taco Night?’ And did you find out if that was Juliette?”

“No and yes. I’m still reeling a bit from everything but yes, that was Juliette. They were out celebrating their anniversary.”

Dezi’s eyebrows shoot up at that.

“I know, I know,” I say, shaking my head.

“Quinn.”

“Not now,” I say, relieved as Elliot approaches. “You, my friend, are to enjoy your date.”

I pour Champagne, make some menu recommendations and leave them to it. “I’ll be back to check on you. But take your time and enjoy.”

.....

The night turned out much better than expected considering the rough start with Anniversary Sex muddying my brain. But there’s power in good friends, good food and work that I love. I feel better and I don’t need to know. Really, I don’t.

My tables are all wrapped up for the evening, so I make my way to the bar to pay Julian a visit and wait for Dezi and Elliot to join me.

It’s quiet and Julian doesn’t look up right away as he’s watching something on his phone, which he has propped up on the bar.

“Watcha looking at there?” I ask, trying to sneak a peek.

“Q,” he says, looking up at me and smiling, all the while trying to subtly block his phone from view. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Are those hedgehogs?” I ask, nodding towards his phone. “Why are you watching a video with hedgehogs?”

Julian shrugs. “My mom wants one. I’m doing some research.”

I start laughing. “Did you just say your mom wants a hedgehog? Isn’t she, like, a hundred years old?”

“Very funny. Eighty-two to be exact. The woman is eighty-two. If she wants a hedgehog, she should have a hedgehog.”

“Fair enough,” I say, still laughing. “But please, stop saying the word hedgehog.”

“What’s this about a hedgehog?” asks Elliot as he and Dezi plop down on barstools.

I nod towards Julian. “I’ll let him explain.”

“My mom wants a hedgehog, so I’m getting her one,” he says, matter-of-factly.

“Sounds reasonable,” says Elliot, nodding. “My cousin had a hedgehog. His name was Funyun.”

“Funyun?” Dezi and I say in unison.

“As in the fried snack?” she asks.

We both giggle helplessly. I don’t know why it’s so funny, but it just simply is. Funyun the hedgehog!

Julian rolls his eyes and tells Elliot to ignore us.

“Oh, that was fun,” I say, wiping tears of laughter from my eyes. “Thanks for the laugh, both of you. I needed that.”

“Happy to help,” says Julian, shaking his head. “Now, what can I get all of you to drink?”

It’s Cognac all around.

We sip our drinks as Elliot and Julian start talking drums and motorcycles and guy stuff. I am just delighted that Elliot is actually speaking to me. In full sentences.

“So,” says Dezi, crossing her legs and spinning her barstool closer to mine. “Have you ever considered him, you know, as a possibility?” She nods toward Julian.

“What? No. Absolutely not. We are friends and that’s all. Plus, he’s way older than me.”

“Well, he certainly doesn’t look it. He’s awfully handsome and you two seem to get along great. Just saying.”

“We do get along great. As FRIENDS.”

“Okay, okay,” Dezi says. “I’ll back off, but there is definitely some chemistry there.”

I raise my eyebrows at her and say nothing.

I suppose she’s right. There may very well be some chemistry there, but I’ve never really thought about it. And even if there is, it’s nothing compared to what I have with Marcus. The man comes near me and it’s as if somebody just plugged me in. I light up like a 100-watt bulb.

I’m lost in thoughts of Marcus when Juliette starts creeping into my head. Gah!

“Dezi, do you think his wife knows something is up?” I can’t seem to bring myself to say her name.

I watch as Dezi’s brow furrows, clearly contemplating Juliette.

“That’s a tough question. In my experience with clients, they almost always fess up that they knew something was wrong. But from what you’ve told me about Juliette, she’s likely depressed, which changes everything.”

“How so?”

“If she’s truly depressed, she’s going to be less receptive to any external or internal warnings, so to speak. And, even if she thought something was wrong, she may very well be too depressed to care. Quinn, why are you asking me this?”

“I don’t know,” I whisper. “I guess she’s been on my mind since we saw her.”

“Are you afraid she’s going to find out?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know,” I say, running my fingers through my hair. “What do you think I should do?”

“Quinn, honey, I can’t tell you that. You have to decide if you want him. And how far you’re willing to go to get him.”

“This wasn’t supposed to get complicated. I hate complicated.”

“The choice is simple, but I know it’s excruciating for you. Do you want Marcus enough to ask him to leave his wife? Or do you bow out and let him go?”

“Are you suggesting an ultimatum?”

“If it comes to that, yes,” says Dezi. “It’s an option.”

“Jesus. I’m not ready to do that.”

We sit in silence, sipping our Cognac. I have no idea what to say or where to go from here. Marcus has shaken up my life, in the best way possible, but I am rattled. My brain refuses to step forward. But my heart won’t let me step back.

“You ready to get out of here, Dez?” asks Elliot, halting the emotional battle in my head.

She nods and gently squeezes my hand. “You’re going to be okay,” she whispers in my ear. “You’ll figure this out. And I’ll be here, every step of the way.”

As the pair moves to leave, Elliot turns to me. “I know we’ve had our differences Quinn, but I want to thank you for what you said to Emma. She actually kicked her husband out of the house.”

My eyebrows shoot up at this.

“I’m so glad you called him a giant ass. It was not what I was expecting, but it was perfect. And exactly what I wanted to say.”

With Dezi and Elliot gone, I stick around to keep Julian company. He sets out a plate of bar snacks for me and then grins as I see him glance over my shoulder. Uh oh. I know that look.

“Looks to me like you have another visitor.”

“You have got to be kidding me. I’m afraid to look. This never goes well. Can you give me a hint?”

“Well, it’s a man, but it’s not Marcus. Never seen this one before.”

I take a deep breath and turn around.

Zack. Fuuuuck. This cannot be good.

“Zack? What are you doing here?” I haven’t seen Zack in months.

Not since we had that Thai food dinner, which was ages ago.

Before Paris. Before I fell in love with Marcus.

He’s as adorable as ever in an eggplant-colored V-neck sweater and dark jeans.

But, I am pleased to note, I don’t feel remotely romantic towards him.

I feel irritated. He should be home, with Cindy.

His wife. The woman who keeps making me give her these preposterous lessons.

“Quinn,” he says with a tentative smile. “It’s been a long time. I was hoping to catch you here tonight.”

“Zack,” I whisper. “You really shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be talking to me.”

“I know,” he says, reaching to touch my arm. “But I need to talk to you.”

I glance up and see Julian looking directly at me, eyebrows raised. There’s a clear question in his eyes — want me to take care of this punk for you ?

I gently shake my head and mouth, “It’s okay.” I turn to Zack.

“You should be home with your wife. Why are you here, Zack?”

He blows out a sigh. “I’m not here to hit on you, I promise. I know it’s over and Cindy and I are in a good place.”

I look at him warily. “You recently tried to get me to meet you for a date, Zack.”

“I know, I know. And that was a mistake. Look, I wanted to apologize. I shouldn’t have texted you and I shouldn’t have continued to try to pursue you.”

“And you came all the way here to tell me this?”

“Yes,” he says simply. “Things felt unfinished between us and I felt like such a jerk after that text. I wanted to apologize. In person.”

“Okay. Well, apology accepted but there’s no need. We’re good. And I’m glad you and your wife are doing well.”

Zack nods. “We are. She’s trying and now I’m trying. I do love her. I think I was just bored and well, distracted there for a while.”

“It happens Zack. To the best of us.”

Zack hesitates. He starts fiddling with the hem of his sweater.

“What?” I ask. “What’s really going on?”

“How did you know that I accidentally sent that dinner date text to my wife?”

I shake my head. “Nope. Not happening. I’m not getting involved. You need to talk to her.”

“But I can’t. I can’t tell her that text was meant for you and you called me out on it.”

I sigh. “I suppose not. Why does it matter?”

“Because something funny is going on,” he says. “It’s driving me crazy. It feels as if she’s hiding something and I can’t quite figure it out. And then suddenly you, my ex-lover or whatever, know what I’ve texted to my wife? It doesn’t make any sense.”

I’m quiet. I’m not sure how to reply. So I employ the Alex technique and say nothing.

“Look. I want my wife back,” he says. “But I need to know what’s going on. I need to be able to trust her.”

“You can,” I say, looking him directly in the eyes. “I promise you. You can trust Cindy.”

I truly believe he can. Until I think of her mischievous navy-blue eyes twinkling while scheming a harebrained “test” for him that involves a naked woman. Oh boy. I cannot get in the middle of this. And I know Cindy does not want him to know about the lessons.

“You can,” I say firmly. “Trust me on this.”

“Okay,” Zack says dubiously. “For now.”

“Zack, things are going well, yes?”

He nods.

“Then why are you picking it all apart? Why are you looking for problems when there aren’t any?”

“Because I screwed up. I almost blew up our marriage,” he says, looking pained, as if he’s about to have diarrhea. “I never thought of myself as the kind of guy who could have an affair.”

“Nobody ever does, Zack.”

“Well, if I can, then she can too,” he says softly.

“Is that what you’re worried about?”

He nods. “I never was before. But now ... I feel as if I opened the door for her.”

“Oh Zack. You didn’t. Really, Cindy is not having an affair.”

“How could you possibly know that? She’s acting so different. In a great way, don’t get me wrong. She’s sweet and well, happy for once.”

“Have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe, it’s because of you?”

Zack nods and stands to give me a hug goodbye. “I hope you’re right, Quinn.”

“I am,” I say. “I know I am.”

“Thank you for everything. For not being weird about any of this.”

Zack leaves and I flop back onto a barstool.

“Some night, Q,” says Julian. “You okay?”

“I am. As long as nobody else shows up for a visit.”

Julian smiles. “You handled that well. You’re pretty good at this, you know?”

I give him the wonky eye. “Good at what, exactly?”

“Love lessons,” he says with a grin.

“Jesus Christ,” I say, tossing a paper napkin at him. “I am helping one woman. ONE. Out of sheer guilt for making out with her husband. I do not give love lessons.”

Julian tosses the napkin right back at me. “Oh, but I think you do.”