Page 47 of Infidelity Rules

Daily Special

Endive with green apple dressing, gorgonzola and toasted walnuts

Double-cut pork chops with charred orange-caramel sauce

Crispy olive oil freekeh cakes

I’m at Persimmon early today because I need the chance to assess our wine inventory before we open for dinner.

My brain has been everywhere but work lately and my cellar is in desperate need of some organization and attention.

Life has been good, but busy. I see a lot more of Marcus now that he’s left Juliette and lives near me.

I’m helping Dezi plan her wedding. I need to squeeze in Alex from time to time.

Cindy is still stopping by for her lessons, unfortunately.

And now, I’ve got my mother hounding me to bring Marcus back for another family dinner.

Plus, of course, all the usual detritus of life — work, exercise, laundry, dental appointments, eyebrow plucking — piles up with zero regard for my love life or best friend duties.

I’m getting the hang of juggling everything, though.

Marcus I see every chance I get. Dezi genuinely needs my help.

Cindy is well, Cindy, so I’ve been keeping our bi-weekly appointments.

So basically, my mother, my brother and my wine cellar are getting the short shrift.

Time to take care of the wine cellar. And I’m hoping to see Alex later this week. Progress.

I have more than an hour before I need to think about tonight’s patrons, so I hunker down in the cellar to get organized.

While I stack bottles and review inventory, I also keep an eye out for wines to pair with Chef’s special tonight.

I can hazard a few good guesses, but I think I may need a spoonful of that charred orange sauce before narrowing down the selection. I’m certain Chef will oblige.

I’m putting a few bottles of bubbly in the coldest section of the wine refrigerator when my phone pings.

Marcus. Just seeing his name light up my screen brings on the butterflies and the roller-coaster rush. I’m coming to terms with the fact that I’m crazy for this man. I want this man. And I’m pretty sure it’s too late to turn back now anyway. I’m too far gone.

Marcus: Hey gorgeous. I know you’re at work, but I wanted to say hi. I miss you already.

I can feel my cheeks crack into a smile. Marcus left for a trip yesterday morning. We took forever saying goodbye and he ended up having to rush to the airport. This is the longest stretch we’ll be apart since he left his wife.

Me: Hey handsome. I miss you too. Sorry you were almost late for your flight.

Marcus: I’m not sorry at all. It was so worth it.

Me: I couldn’t agree more. Trip going okay?

Marcus: Yup. Status quo. But I cannot wait to come back to you.

Me: Yes!

Marcus: Dinner and slumber party at my place when I get back. I’m cooking.

Me: You’re on! And you’re cooking! What did I do to deserve this?

Marcus: Hell if I know. (wink emoji) But you’re under my skin. And in my head. And I love you.

Me: Me too.

I sigh with pleasure as my cheeks stretch to accommodate an even bigger grin. I do love that man. So much it still scares me because I can feel myself spinning out of control. And I miss him when he’s gone. But now he’s given me something to look forward to. Dinner and a slumber party.

.....

A few minutes later I’m in the kitchen licking a spoon coated with a burnt orange caramel sauce. It’s delicious and different — silky, pleasantly bitter and both citrusy and sweet.

“Mmmmm,” I say, as Chef stands impatiently in front of me, tapping his foot. “This is really good.” I smack my lips. “And I know just the wine.”

“I should hope so,” says Chef. “That’s what we pay you for.”

He makes an abrupt about-face to resume his cheffy things when he suddenly turns back to me.

“I hear our cheese purveyor is getting married, yes?”

I nod. “He is. Just proposed to my best friend.”

“I shall congratulate him then. Any wedding plans yet?”

“They’re thinking a very small, intimate, evening wedding at this point.”

“Excellent choice,” says Chef, nodding his approval. “Small and elegant. Always the way to go.”

I’m about to burst out and tell him the bride is wearing blue, but catch myself.

That little tidbit is supposed to be a secret, to everyone except me.

I love that she’s wearing blue. It’s sassy and spunky and surprising, just like my friend.

That and the shade she chose is a dead ringer for the color of her eyes. Elliot is going to lose his mind.

.....

It’s time for me to get to work. I whiz through my tables, offering tastings, pouring wine and making menu recommendations. I’m also fielding quite a few menu questions tonight, which makes me wonder if our new server isn’t up to speed yet. But I don’t mind. I love chatting with our guests.

Yes, the pork chop is wonderfully different and not overly sweet.

No, the short ribs aren’t fatty and greasy.

Yes, we can remove the head from the whole fish if you’d prefer, although I don’t recommend it, those cheeks are delicious.

No, freekeh is not a bean, it’s a chewy, nutty grain.

And no, I’m sorry, we do not have any vegan cashew cheese.

Seriously? Vegan cashew cheese? More like nut goo. Why even bother at that point?

I get my tables settled and take a brief break to grab a snack and sit for a moment. I’m dipping carrots through a swoosh of hummus when my phone pings. It’s Alex.

Alex: Hey Quinn, what’s new? You engaged yet?

Me: Ha ha. Very funny little brother. And NO. NOT READY.

Alex: Well, you better tell mom that. She’s gone berserk over Marcus. I think she likes him more than she likes the rest of us.

Me: (eye roll emoji) Tell me about it. She can’t wait to see him again. I think I need to wait a bit though. Let her cool down some.

Alex: Good call. We still getting together?

Me: Absolutely! Axe throwing????

Alex: How about something else? I’m tired of Fantasia. She’s exhausting.

Me: Ha ha ha! She has a whopping crush on you.

Alex: She asked me out. I said no. Now it’s weird.

Me: Of course she did. That little minx. No worries, we’ll figure something out.

I tell Alex that I need to get back to work and then do just that, all the while chuckling about Fantasia.

She is just way too young and cutesy and sticky-sweet for him, but I do admire her chutzpah.

He needs somebody wise, witty and with a bit of an edge.

I had always hoped he and Dezi would get together, but I suppose it’s much too late for that.

At least Alex said no to Fantasia. I’m not sure I could stomach that one for very long.

I make my rounds and see that everyone is wrapping up and the checks are all paid.

That is my signal to duck into the restroom and unleash any uncomfortable clothing — snug belt be gone — and visit Julian.

But not before I also take off my bra, which is poking me with its underwire.

I stuff both into my bag and do a quick check in the mirror to make sure it’s not obvious the girls are swinging free.

Nope, all good here — one of the perks of small breasts and winter clothing. I really should go sans bra more often.

I find Julian setting up the bar for tomorrow and organizing his tools.

“Hey Julian,” I say, plunking down on my usual stool. “How’s life? What’s new? Dating anyone yet?”

Julian smirks and shakes his head at me. “So many questions, Q.”

“Well? You never really give me any answers.”

“What will it be tonight? Usual Cognac?”

“See. There you go again. Mister Mysterious. I want to try that Love, Violet cocktail.”

Julian cocks his head at me, raising just one eyebrow. “Interesting choice,” he says, grabbing a coupe glass.

“So,” I say, drumming my fingers on the bar. “You going to give me any answers?”

“I don’t remember the questions,” he says, mixing my pale lavender cocktail.

“Very funny.” I toss a nut at his head. “How’s life? What’s new? Dating anyone yet?” I ask again, lobbing another nut at his head.

Before I even have time to blink, Julian swipes the nut out of the air, pelts me with it and slides my drink across the bar, all in one lightning-fast motion.

“What the …?” I’m laughing as I start throwing nuts at him, rapid fire. He does an impressive job of catching them in midair and sending them right back at me. “You have one heck of a reaction time,” I say, protecting my drink and my face from the torrent of mixed nuts.

“You’re lucky the bar is empty,” Julian laughs. “I’m pretty sure employee food fights are frowned upon.”

“Oh, that was fun,” I say, taking a swig of my drink and helping Julian clean up the nuts. “You seriously have fast hands. Is that from drumming?”

“Maybe,” Julian shrugs. “Never thought about it. Although my dad would say it’s from all the Whack-a-Mole he made me play as a kid. He didn’t want a musician, he wanted an athlete. He figured that stupid game would increase my reaction time.”

I smile at this curious little piece of Julian’s childhood revealed. “Well, perhaps he was right. Remind me to never get into a real food fight with you.”

“How’s the drink, by the way?”

“I like it,” I say, taking another sip. “It’s lemony.”

“No pilot tonight?”

“Not unless you have a note for me,” I say, sighing. “He’s on a trip. The longest one since he left his wife.”

“How’s that all going?”

“Uh, uh,” I say, shaking my head. “You need to answer some of my questions first.”

Julian just looks at me, a smile playing at his lips. He’s so good at saying nothing.

“Marcus moved to D.C.,” I blurt out. “That’s the latest and greatest. But enough, I want to hear about you.”

“That sounds pretty serious, Q,” he says, training his hazel eyes on mine. I notice that tonight, they are mostly gold with tiny flecks of green.

I nod. “It seems to be headed in that direction. Although he did say he would have moved out regardless of me, so that helps.”

Julian cocks his head at me. “Helps how?”

“It makes me feel less like a homewrecker. I know I was probably the catalyst, but things were over before I ever came along.”

Julian remains quiet. Once again, he reminds me of Alex.

“I also feel less pressure to make any big decisions,” I say. “We can take things slow and let our relationship grow naturally.”

“So, no big fat engagement ring anytime soon?” asks Julian, smiling at me.

“Absolutely not.” I shake my head. “It’s way too early for that. And he’s still married.”

“You sure about that?”

“What? Yes. Of course he’s still married. Is a quickie divorce even a thing?”

Julian shrugs. “I guess it depends on the state. But I’d keep my eye on that one. Marcus does what Marcus wants.”

“He does,” I say, groaning. “And that’s what makes him so unbelievably sexy. Among other things ...”

“Women,” says Julian with a grumble.

“Yes! Speaking of. How did you get me so off track? You never answered any of my questions.”

Julian smirks. “No, I’m not dating anyone. At least, not anyone worth mentioning.”

“So you are , in fact, dating,” I say, excitedly. “Who? Where? When?”

“Of course I’m dating. But like I said, not even worth talking about. So far, no second dates. Slim pickings.”

“What are you looking for?”

“That’s a big question.”

“Top three.”

“I need a woman who makes me smile. Who makes me think. A woman with some passion,” he says.

“Passion for what?”

“For anything. For life. For work. For animals. For tattoos. Whatever. A woman with some guts and spirit.”

I nod and stay quiet for once.

“A woman who brings joy with her.”

“All great stuff,” I say. “But a big ask.”

“And you wonder why I’m still single,” Julian says with a wry smile.

“Was that Violet? Was she all of that?”

Julian nods and starts folding bar towels into a neat stack. “I think she was.”

“Julian. What happened between you two?”

“Q, that is a very long story.”

“I have nowhere I need to be,” I reply, settling into my seat.

“Someday, Q. Someday. But it appears you have a visitor,” he says, grinning and glancing over my shoulder.

“Oh stop. You’re just trying to get out of telling me your love story. Now spill it.”

“I’m not kidding, Q. See for yourself,” he says, gesturing behind me.

Oh for crying out loud. Who could this possibly be? I slowly turn around, bracing myself for crazy.

It’s a woman. She looks vaguely familiar. Why do I know her?

Wait a minute. I recognize that shiny, perfectly straight, sheet of honey-colored hair.

Juliette.

Why is Juliette in my restaurant? This is so not cool.

I want her out of here. There is only one reason she’s here.

Marcus.

Fuck that.

She’s not getting him back.