God, she looks gorgeous in that sunlight.
“Michelle made these,” Diane said, tearing her eyes away.
“Michelle?” Maureen asked.
“So, I’d rather not linger.”
“Who’s Michelle?” Maureen shot her a look. She paused. “Wait. Grumpy neighbor girl made these?”
“Yes,” Diane said, gritting her teeth. She spun around before Michelle could notice her in return. “I am not in the mood for her today. Can we leave, please?”
“Where is she?” Maureen asked, her lips cracking into an amused grin. Her eyes darted across the market. “I want to see her.”
“What for?”
“I want to know what this woman looks like,” she said. “She’s clearly gotten you all worked up.”
“I am not—” Diane sighed. She pinched the bridge of her nose and collected herself. “She does not have me all worked up.”
“You sure?” Michelle asked. “I can’t tell the difference between your face and those heirloom tomatoes behind you. I’ve never seen you this red.”
“Yes, well,” Diane growled, glancing at the farm fresh tent behind her, “that’s not because of her. It’s because you’re making me quite perturbed.”
“Perturbed?” Maureen crossed her arms with a smirk. “Wow. She must be a spitfire then.”
“Maureen…”
“Point her out and we can go.”
“Fine.” Diane skimmed her tongue along her teeth. “Last tent on the end. Striped tank top. Black jean shorts. The one with all the tattoos.”
“Hang on,” Maureen said, pushing herself up on her tiptoes, “I don’t quite see—” She sunk back down and laughed. “Are you serious, Diane?”
“What?”
“That’s her?”
“Yes,” Diane said, jerking Maureen from the tent by her elbow. “Can we go now?”
“Are you sure?” Maureen gawked, digging her feet in place. “That’s the woman you’ve been complaining about?”
“I think I would know what she looks like by now,” Diane replied harshly.
Especially since she’d done nothing but picture Michelle in her mind all week—an added notion she kept privately to herself. Diane eyed Maureen as she studied Michelle in the distance. She tugged on her earlobe nervously, her body welling with a frantic heat.
“She doesn’t look so awful helping that older gentleman with those heavy boxes,” Maureen added. “And it seems you forgot to mention her toned and sexy body. And that killer smile.”
“Yes, my apologies,” Diane snarled, “I was distracted by the fact she’d been rude and unwelcoming and highly abrasive towards me from the start, I simply neglected the detail about her charming and arousing set of dimples.”
Maureen pivoted with a grin. “How do you know she has dimples?”
“I swear,” Diane grabbed Maureen’s arm again, “if we don’t—”
“Good morning. How can I—” Michelle’s steps faltered. Her eyes landed on Diane. “Oh. Hey.”
“Nothing,” Diane said. She kept her eyes fixed on Maureen and gave her arm another yank. “We were just leaving.”
“Were you?” Michelle asked, voice elevating in surprise. “I’ve irritated you that quickly? Must be a new record. One for the Guinness Book.”
“No, you certainly haven’t,” Maureen said, slipping from Diane’s grip. She glared at Diane and offered her hand to Michelle. “Hi, I’m Maureen Cook. Diane’s best friend.”
“Hello, Diane’s best friend.” Michelle smiled, glancing at Diane skeptically as they shook hands. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Oddly enough, I feel like we’ve already met,” Maureen said, flashing her a mischievous smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Michelle stepped backwards, eyebrows raised. “Have you now?”
“No.” Diane stepped in quickly, shaking her head. “No, she hasn’t.”
Michelle chuckled.
“If you don’t mind,” Diane said, serving Maureen a warning look, “we were just leaving. We have a thing to get to.”
“Oh.” Michelle nodded. “Okay. Enjoy your thing then.”
“Actually,” Maureen said, inching closer to Michelle, and side-stepping Diane’s threatening expression, “we were admiring your work. You made everything yourself?”
“Not by myself, no,” Michelle said over her shoulder. She stepped behind the tables and grabbed her water bottle. She wiped her lips with her thumb, after taking a long drink. She set the bottle down. “All the designs I create with my business partner, Shawn.”
“They’re exquisite.” Maureen studied a few pieces.
“Thank you.” Michelle eyed Diane stewing silently in the corner.
“I can tell the amount of care you’ve put into your work,” Maureen spoke smoothly, her eyes sliding all over Michelle. “You’re very talented.”
Good Lord.
Diane rolled her eyes and turned away. This was a disaster. Not only was Diane face-to-face with the one person she vowed to avoid all weekend, but now her best friend was schmoozing Michelle like a starstruck teenager. How did she get here? One minute, she’s off on a heavenly adventure with Maureen, innocently checking out swiss chard for a harvest stew, the next she detoured straight into hot glass hell.
“From my perspective,” Michelle said, “beauty’s found in the details.”
Diane peeked behind her. She caught Michelle looking at her again.
“Well, you certainly have an eye for it,” Maureen said, “that’s for sure.”
Michelle looked away and smiled at Maureen. “That’s kind of you to say.”
Diane couldn’t take much more of this. She stepped towards Maureen, watching her tilt a vase into the light. “Maureen, we really should—”
“Is your studio limited to smaller pieces, or do you take commissions for larger projects?” Maureen asked, placing the vase down carefully.
Michelle tipped her head back and forth. “Depends.”
“On…”
Michelle flicked her attention to Diane for a moment. “Is there something specific you had in mind?”
“No—yes,” Maureen said. Shaking her head, she set her hands calmly on the table. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I’m helping a friend with the interior design for her new restaurant in Florida—oh, it’s for Kelly Ann Frost, your neighbor,” she exclaimed. “You know each other, obviously.”
Michelle nodded. “Of course. Yes.”
“This is perfect then,” Maureen said. “We’ve been searching for a signature piece. Something eye-catching. One of a kind. Something you can look at, and know immediately, you couldn’t find it anywhere else.”
Diane stared at Maureen, her blood pressure rising. What is she thinking? Whatever it was, Diane had an inclination she wasn’t going to agree with it.
“Unfortunately, I haven’t found what I’m looking for.” Maureen tapped her fingers on her lips, then shook her finger at Michelle. “But maybe that’s the problem.”
Michelle narrowed her eyes at Maureen. “How do you mean?”
“My issue is,” Maureen continued, “maybe I’m looking for a piece that doesn’t exist. And perhaps, that’s where you could come in.”
Michelle nodded again slowly, intrigue stirring in her eyes.
“It’s clear from your portfolio on display here, you and your partner have more than enough credentials. Even better, you know who I’m designing for. Does this sound like something you’d be interested in?”
“Definitely.” Michelle nodded. “We could sit down and come up with a design together.”
“That’s the problem,” Maureen said, turning her sights slowly on Diane. “I’m only in town for the weekend.”
“Oh,” Michelle said, glancing at Diane. She thought quietly for a moment. “You could email me your concept, and I could PDF you some visuals?”
“Or maybe…” Maureen slinked backwards and threw her arm around Diane, “you could work with Diane to come up with some
thing? Kelly Ann would trust her taste and creativity just as much as my own, I’m sure.”
Diane’s heart leapt into her throat.
“Maureen,” Diane hissed, and she tilted her mouth towards Maureen’s ear, “I think—”
“It’s a great idea?” Maureen blurted, hugging her closer. “Excellent. Me too.”
Diane shook her head. “No, that’s not—”
“I’ll fill you in on the aesthetic,” Maureen said with a smug shrug. She winked at Michelle. “We’re spending all weekend together. You’ll catch on quick.”
“Even if that were the case,” Diane snarled, “Michelle probably doesn’t have an opening in her schedule large enough to accommodate your inflated expectations for this piece.”
“Hm. True. I can be very demanding.” Maureen smirked at Michelle. “But…do you? Have time?”
Diane was going to kill Maureen. Yes. With each passing second of this conversation, Diane was closer to adding first-degree murder to her weekend agenda. What problematic position was Maureen putting her in? Diane would do anything to help Kelly Ann, especially since she’d been so kind, lending her the lake house when she needed an escape. Of course, Diane wanted her new restaurant to dazzle. But working with Michelle? Side-by-side. Together. Diane clenched her jaw. She knew Michelle played with fire, but she never suspected it’d be Maureen who’d ultimately feed her to the flames.
“I—” Michelle opened her mouth and shut it, her wide eyes bouncing between the two of them. “I do. As long as Diane doesn’t have an issue working with me.”
Diane’s eyes snapped to her. She snickered. “Why—why would I have a problem?”
“You tell me,” Michelle laughed. She rolled her tongue across her bottom lip. “You seem…resistant.”
“She’s not. Not at all,” Maureen said, glaring at Diane. “She knows how much this project means to me, and our friend. Right?”
Diane inhaled and let a long sigh spill from her nostrils. “Of course.”
“Great.” Maureen dug in her purse for her business card and handed Michelle one. “Here’s my contact info. If you have any questions, or want to run ideas by me, you can reach me.”
Michelle took the card. “Will do.”
“And obviously, the two of you can communicate with each other and set up a date,” Maureen said, flashing Diane a questioning look.
Michelle stared at Diane, sliding the business card into her back pocket. “She definitely knows how to get to me.”
Diane refrained from an eye roll and readied herself for a quick exit.
“Perfect.” Maureen clapped. “In the meantime, Michelle, could you wrap up this suncatcher for me? I’m redecorating my home office, and this cerulean blue with the white swirls will go perfectly with the oceans views I have.”
“Sure thing.” Michelle took Maureen’s payment and wrapped the glass in newspaper, handing the item back to her. “Here you go.”
“Thank you for everything,” Maureen said, meeting Diane at the edge of the tent. “It was nice meeting you.”
“Enjoy your weekend in Vermont,” Michelle said.
Diane watched Maureen and Michelle exchange a friendly wave, while two new customers walked in. They spoke excitedly in French, and she held her gaze on Michelle as she welcomed the newcomers, speaking fluently and with a charming smile. Groaning, Diane turned her back and left.
“And she speaks French?” Maureen said. She caught up to Diane outside and tucked her purchase in her bag, “I don’t know what you can’t see in that woman. I’m not even gay, and I think my uterus just exploded.”
“Well, put it back together,” Diane snapped, stomping through the crowded market. “We’ve got things to do.”
CHAPTER TEN
Diane dropped the empty glass on the table with a harsh knock and swallowed the final mouthful of frothy prosecco. Dinner was over. Snatching her purse from the back of the chair, she sprinted down the dock and left the waterfront restaurant behind her—not a moment too soon.
The holiday weekend was going exactly to plan. After leaving the farmers’ market, Diane and Maureen arrived in Burlington. They strolled downtown Church Street, shopping, exploring art galleries and fine jewelry shops. They people-watched between spoonfuls of creamy chocolate gelato they scooped up from a charming street cart. The open-air marketplace was popping with vendors and tourists and street performers; Burlington was everything Diane had hoped, and Maureen seemed enamored with her visit. Unfortunately, though, Diane never joined her. Not entirely. Her thoughts were trapped on the island, marooned by Michelle and their upcoming collaboration.
Diane tried her best to snap out of it. She tried to enjoy Maureen’s company and the pleasant setting around them. But nothing worked. Her mood was spoiled, she was soaked in frustration, straight to the bone. Thankfully, Maureen didn’t notice, she kept a smile on her face as shopping bags multiplied in her hands. Proud she concealed her irritation all afternoon, Diane dipped into her bowl of lobster risotto hoping a hot meal would resolve her issues before the day ended, and Maureen could notice any difference.
But they’d barely spoken a word at the table—Maureen scrolled through her messages on her phone, and Diane focused on her food and the ferry boats chugging in and out of the marina. If the patio tables weren’t crammed with people and crackling with conversations around them, their whole dinner would’ve been eaten in silence. Clearly, after thirty years of friendship, Diane wasn’t fooling her, and by the time Diane settled the bill, Maureen had enough, making it far along the lake front recreational path before Diane could even catch up.
“Were you going to wait for me?” Diane said, short of breath. She hopped onto the grass, dodging a line of cyclists speeding by.
“Does it matter?” Maureen asked, her legs keeping their annoyed pace. She gazed across the lake, fighting strands of her brown hair, as the breeze tossed them about. “You didn’t want my company all day. Why would I assume you’d start now?”
Diane jogged faster. She sighed and placed her hand on her friend’s arm, pulling her onto the grass with her—she didn’t want their conversation clogging the pathway. The evening was warm and beautiful, and the paved trail was packed—full of joggers, power walkers, and several people on rollerskis zipped by, conditioning for the cross-country season, a solemn reminder snowfall in New England was never too far off.
“I know,” Diane said, maintaining her quick steps, “I’m sorry.”
Maureen walked faster. “You’ve been in a shitty mood all day.”
“You’re right.”
“I was looking forward to spending time with you this weekend,” Maureen said, shaking her head, “and I felt like a third wheel all day between you and your head full of thoughts.”
“I am truly sorry,” Diane pleaded. “I shouldn’t have treated you like a third wheel.”
Maureen stopped suddenly. “I deserve better than this,” she snapped. “Better than to fly fifteen hundred miles to be closer to you, just to spend the weekend alone.”
“Yes,” Diane panted. She stepped closer. “Absolutely. You do. How can I make it up to you?”
Setting her hands on her hips, Maureen watched a jogger with a black lab sprint by. “First, you can stop being a cranky jerk,” she said, looking Diane square in the eyes. “Can you do that?”
“Of course,” Diane nodded. She swiped her hand through her hair. “Yes.”
“Secondly,” Maureen said, hitting the pavement again. She hooked her arm around Diane’s waist and tugged her along, bumping her hip as they walked, “talk to me, Diane. I don’t know what that dinner was about, but it was like a horribly awkward Tinder date.”
Diane chuckled.
“I’m serious,” Maureen said. “I’m too old for fucking Tinder, and we’re too good of friends to have awkward dates with each other. You can talk to me about anything.”
“Agreed,” Diane sighed. “I’m sorry. Again.”
“Good,” Maureen said. “Now stop a
pologizing and spill. What the hell got into you today? You seemed perfectly fine this morning. Giddy, in fact.”
Diane turned her eyes on the waterfront park as they drifted along. She watched a group of twenty-somethings playing ultimate Frisbee in the grass. Diane smiled. The day was far from perfect, but there was still ample daylight drizzling upon Lake Champlain and the mountains, plenty of time to finish the day off right. It would do her good to be open and transparent; Diane needed to be honest—to Maureen and herself—about how Michelle made her feel. About how the prospect of working closely with her made her insides squirm.
“It’s about me pushing you to work with Michelle, isn’t it?” Maureen asked, glancing at Diane. “I can call and cancel if you want. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable if you honestly don’t like her.”
“No—that’s not—” Diane shook her head and laughed at herself. Sometimes having Maureen know her so well made hiding her feelings impossible. She questioned why she even attempted at all. “Michelle’s fine.”
Maureen looked at her. “But you’re not?”
“I don’t know.” Diane threw her hands up. They came upon a large skateboarding park, and Diane plopped down on a nearby bench. Her knees wobbled. She was lightheaded, her mind spinning with thoughts—though picking a spot with skaters circling around wasn’t helping matters. She closed her eyes and dropped her head back. “I don’t know, Maureen. I don’t. There’s something about her that just…gets under my skin.”
“In a good way or bad?” Maureen asked gently, sitting next to her.
“Both? Simultaneously?” Diane laughed, opening her eyes. She watched the puffs of white clouds swimming in the blue sky above. “If that makes any logical sense.”
“Sexual attraction is complicated sometimes.”
Diane sat up. “Oh, we’re having this conversation again?”
“Yes. Yes, we are.” Maureen threw her arm across the back of the bench and crossed her legs. She followed the skaters in the park. “It’s okay to be turned on by someone.”
Diane covered her face with her hands. “Do you have to phrase it like that?”
Fire and Water Page 10
