Chapter 22
When I arrive for class the following week James is already seated at our usual table. The redhead who was making eyes at him walked in just ahead of me and makes a beeline for James. She strides over and sets her things down in my spot. She has a lot of nerve. I cross the room until I’m standing behind her. James looks at me and mouths, “Sorry.”
“I think you’re in my seat,” I tell her.
She turns around and looks at me with wide-eyed innocence.
“Oh, I didn’t realize we had assigned seats.”
“It’s just that James and I usually sit together.”
“I know. I thought we’d change things up this week. Is that OK with you, James?”
James shifts uncomfortably.
“I guess just for this week. Lucy and I are friends and signed up to take this class together.”
“I wasn’t aware you two already knew each other. I could’ve sworn I saw you shake hands on the first day.”
She’s very observant, this one, unlike me because I don’t remember her from our first class.
James shrugs and I find a seat at another table. As I’m walking away I hear her introduce herself as Laurel. I know she put him in an awkward situation, but I wish he had told her the seat was taken before she parked herself in my spot. I don’t know why I’m so territorial about it. We’ve only sat together for two classes. And in his defense I was standoffish before we parted ways last week.
I sit in Laurel’s old seat next to a man named Charles. He’s polite but keeps to himself. Class isn’t as fun without James as my partner. I steal glances in their direction and she’s definitely upping her game. There’s lots of laughing and hair tossing, which frankly doesn’t seem very sanitary when food’s involved. And every time she laughs she grabs hold of his arm. Too bad this isn’t the knife skills class. I find Laurel extremely irritating.
As soon as class wraps up I head straight for the door.
“Lucy, wait up,” James calls. I slow my pace and he and Laurel fall in step next to me. “See you, Laurel,” he says.
She seems surprised and I try to hide my delight at her dismissal.
Once she’s gone he turns to me and says, “We need to make a game plan for next week.”
“A game plan?”
“Yeah. You know, a strategy to reclaim our table.”
I like that he referred to it as our table.
“Oh, wasn’t Laurel a fun partner?”
“She was OK. A bit on the touchy side.”
“I noticed.”
“Did you?” He raises his eyebrows at me.
“It was hard to miss. What, with that laugh.”
He puts his hand to his temple and says, “I do have a bit of a headache. So, should we meet outside and walk in together?”
“We could do that. But what if she comes early?”
“Then we’ll grab a different table.”
“OK. What time should we meet?”
“How about six forty-five,” he says. “And Lucy, why don’t you give me your number so I can text you if something comes up.”
I hesitate.
He watches me, waiting for an answer. “Or if you’d rather not we can just meet here as planned,” he says quietly.
I don’t know why but I nod. “That sounds good.”
We say our goodbyes and I can’t help feeling as if I disappointed him. And I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t feeling disappointed myself.
It’s Thursday and I have a last-minute meeting with Robica. I should’ve taken James up on his offer. Now I’ll probably be late and he’ll think I’ve blown him off. And worse, Laurel will once again claim my seat, making it that much harder to keep my status as his partner. I don’t know why it bothers me, but it does. Partly because I don’t want Laurel to think she’s won. But partly because I enjoy James’s company. Then the realization hits me that tonight is our last class together. I feel a stab of disappointment knowing I won’t see James again. He’s easygoing and kind. And he makes me laugh. But enough about James—I need to be focusing on musicians. Veronica initially was going to have a string quartet, but now they’ve decided they want a band. I’ve gathered demo tapes from the top wedding bands in Chicago and pulled clips from the web of recent performances.
Robica are always very punctual, but as luck would have it today they are running late. Veronica apologizes profusely and I dismiss her protests to cut the meeting short. She offers to reschedule and I tell her we’ll do no such thing, when in reality I’d love nothing more. We review the tapes and narrow down their top choices. I tell them I’ll arrange for us to go see them live once I get a schedule of their upcoming bookings. Just when I think things are wrapping up Veronica wavers about not going with the string quartet. I suggest we do the string quartet for the ceremony and the band for the party. She and Rob like the idea and they leave feeling good about the decision.
I glance at my watch and it’s ten past six. I can still make it. With more efficiency than usual (if that’s even possible) I respond to my outstanding emails. After freshening up I head out and catch a cab to Bon Appetit. I arrive at six forty and James is waiting on a bench out front.
“Hi,” I say, glad to see him.
“Hey. You made it,” he says as he gathers his stuff.
“I did. I had a last minute meeting so I worried I was going to be late. You were right to suggest we swap numbers.” I pull out my phone and say, “Ready?”
I rattle off my number and he says he’ll text me so I have his. My phone buzzes seconds later and I glance at my screen.
James: Chef James ☺
Me: That’s a stretch ☺
James: Aww, come on! Cut a guy some slack.
Me: You do realize I’m standing right here?
He looks up and laughs. “We’re like my students. They can all be sitting next to each other and they’d rather chat by text than have a conversation.”
“I just thought we should head in before Laurel. You know, save your ears and my sanity.”
He grins and offers his arm. I accept and we walk in together. Fortunately Laurel hasn’t arrived so we claim our usual table. She breezes in a few minutes later and scowls when she sees me next to James. She strides over anyway.
“Hi, James.” She chats with him without even acknowledging my presence. So I text him.
Me: Mission accomplished?
James keeps talking so I text him again.
Me: Saving you. Do you want to be saved?
I see him glance down at his screen.
“Sorry, I need to take this. Work,” he says.
Laurel takes her seat next to Charles.
James: Thx 4 the save. We thwarted her
Me: We make a good team
James: We do. Would you go out w/me sometime?
I look at him and he’s watching me, waiting for my reaction. This time it’s my turn to be saved. Will says it’s time to start class. Now why do I feel like I need saving?
James doesn’t press the issue further. We banter through our lesson as usual. But his question is the elephant in the room. I’m just not sure what I want my answer to be. Yes. I’m leaning toward yes. But the fact that I’m hesitating makes me feel like I should say no. God, I hate this. James isn’t Mr. Anonymous, I remind myself. To be honest they’re nothing alike. Aside from their confidence, perhaps. But James’s confidence is more understated, not like the brazenness that bordered on cocky. But it worked for him. I shake my head to clear it. I don’t know why I’m even comparing the two. One is in my present and the other in my past. And if I want a future with James I’d better stop.
“Are you OK?” he asks.
“Fine.”
As we’re dicing chicken I give him my answer. “Yes.”
“What?”
“Sorry. Yes, to the question you asked me before. But you should know my last relationship ended badly. So all I can handle right now is being friends.” Where did that part come from? I thought I was ready to date, but now I realize I’m not quite ready. “But we’ll see where it leads,” I add. There. I’ve left an open door.
“I understand. I like you, Lucy. I’ll take what I can get. Friends,” he says as he extends a hand.
I shake it and laugh as we realize we’ve both touched raw chicken. We head to the sink to wash our hands and I sense Laurel’s eyes on me. I glance in her direction and I swear she shoots daggers at me. As we’re heading back to our table I touch James on the arm and throw back my hair. At least I’m doing it away from the food. Laurel is watching us so I give her a big smile. I’m usually not this catty but I can’t help myself. I’m entitled to this one small victory, plus, she started it. As we finish preparing our chicken I look over at James, deep in concentration. He really is so cute. Had I never met Mr. Anonymous there’d be no question that we’d be dating. While I can’t rewrite history, I’m going to try to keep him from ruining my future. Because I can definitely see James in it.