Page 48 of Love Under the Microscope
“Well, this is fancy.” I settle into another booth in another bar, but this one isn’t a dive pool bar in the back streets of Seattle. This one is all walnut and marble with a top shelf probably worth more than the house I grew up in.
“It’s the country club, don’tcha know?”
“This is not the country club. Fancy enough, but it’s not.”
“I thought I’d try to impress you.”
I shift in my seat, looking around at the men in business suits that probably cost them thousands of dollars and women in dresses and shoes that cost even more. “This doesn’t impress me, Zelda, and if you think it does, then we need to have a conversation.”
“I know that, really. It’s just that they do a mean Long Island iced tea, the best in Seattle, and I thought we deserved one after our excursion this morning.”
“Excursion?” I glance around and then lower my voice. “I thought the E in B and E was entering?”
She grins, and I hate the way my chest shifts at a simple smile. “I meant lying under a desk with you…twice. That was kind of traumatic,” she jokes. “Way more so than breaking and entering.”
“Tell me about it.” I notice how close I’m sitting next to her and scoot away, so our thighs no longer touch. “I still feel guilty about it.”
She glances at the distance between us, then up at me. “Guilty?”
Oh fuck. Did I say that aloud? I look at the bartender, but he’s busy mixing a drink, so I can’t flag him down. I glance back at Zelda. “Are we supposed to order ourselves or—”
As her eyes darken, her eyebrows draw together. “What do you have to feel guilty about?”
That’s the last thing I want to talk about, which means I need to change the subject. “Tell me what you think Nigel’s phone conversation was about.”
She shakes her head. “It can wait.”
If that’s how she truly feels, I’m screwed. And it doesn’t seem as if a cocktail server will appear and offer me a reprieve. I swallow hard.
“Jack,” Zelda presses.
This isn’t something I talk about to anyone other than that therapist I saw for a few sessions and a grief group I wandered into one night when I was questioning if I wanted to live without Aisha. I no longer have those intrusive thoughts. Thank God. Those days are over.
She touches my forearm gently. “Please tell me what you mean.”
I don’t want her thinking the worst about me and even herself. That means I need to tell her the truth. I blow out a breath, hoping that will help me muster my strength—my courage. “I had a fiancée. I mean, we didn’t date for long, but we were in love, and I asked her to marry me on our three-month anniversary. She was involved in a Medi-Lion trial for a new weight loss drug, and…it killed her.”
Zelda gasps. She grabs my hand and squeezes tightly. “I’m so sorry, Jack. I remember your article about that drug trial and the head scientist…”
I nod. “My way of avenging her death or taking revenge, depending on what side you were on. It was five years ago.”
“Not that long ago.”
I shrug because I don’t know how to answer. Sometimes it feels like it was another life I had with Aisha, and other times it feels like yesterday.
Zelda pulls her hand off mine and places it in her lap. “I assume you haven’t been involved with anyone since her.”
“No. There was one hook up, which was a mistake. Today with you was…different.” I stumble over the words like I’m a teenager and not a grown-ass adult. “It didn’t feel—”
“Casual,” she finishes for me, and I’m so grateful.
Not trusting my voice, I nod.
“What was your fiancée’s name?” Zelda asks.
I do a double take, surprised by the question. I clear my throat. “Aisha.”
“Beautiful name. She was beautiful.”
