And Then There Was Her

by Tagan Shepard

  “Then it’s a good thing she gets to build the restaurant herself. She can change that if it doesn’t feel right.”

  “I wasn’t talking about the restaurant.” Jada reached out a gentle finger and turned Madison’s chin to face her. “It sounds like you don’t get to see each other much. Are you okay with that?”

  Madison forced herself not to turn away, but she used her coffee cup to cover Jada’s knowing eyes from seeing too much. What was she supposed to do? Force Kacey to stay away from her life’s dream because Madison wanted more time with her? That wouldn’t be fair, but it also wasn’t exactly what Madison wanted. She sipped her coffee and tried to decide how much to tell Jada.

  “I don’t mind the time alone,” she said when she couldn’t delay any longer. “I’ve been exploring the vineyard and working. It’s been nice.”

  She didn’t mention the growing friendship with Boots or the growing fascination with CS. Sticking to the lure of the winery was honest enough for now. The rest she had to figure out on her own.

  “Sure, time alone is good.” The purr in Jada’s voice showed how little Madison had done to convince her. “As long as you also enjoy the person you come home to.”

  “I do.”

  Even to her own ears, the words sounded hollow. Just a simple fact without any real joy. It was still true, wasn’t it? Madison sighed and let her shoulders fall. Why had they gone down this road? A moment ago she had been studying the landscape, letting the beauty of it carry her, floating in the direction she had wanted her life to go. Now she was confused again. Adrift.

  “I couldn’t help but notice.” Jada’s voice softened again, taking on the soothing tones that sounded more like a mother than a best friend. “It’s just over a year since Robert… How are you doing?”

  She reached out, slipping her hand into Madison’s and entwining their fingers. Madison’s tears didn’t come this time. There was a lightness to her grief since she’d spoken to CS. An unburdening that did not fully remove her grief, but at least made it bearable.

  “I miss my brother,” she whispered into the dying light of the day.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. I think I am. It hurts less now.”

  “I’m so happy to hear it. Did you get to spend the day with Kacey?”

  “She was busy. I didn’t want to bother her with it.”

  “Maddie…”

  She didn’t want Jada to ask more. Didn’t want to admit that a stranger helped her through that day rather than her girlfriend. It would be too much to explain. Too much that she didn’t want to explain just yet. She cut Jada off firmly. “It was fine, Jada. Really. I talked to someone else and it helped.”

  She hoped Jada would assume that meant she’d spoken to a therapist, and perhaps she did because she didn’t pry further. Jada had a knack for letting people find their own strength.

  Her grief was profound. She could ignore it for a time. She’d managed that almost perfectly since arriving in Oregon, but that didn’t mean it was gone. It was more than just the choice to drink less and stay home. Something had shifted in her that day a year ago. Something inside had changed seismically and now the pieces of her life fit together awkwardly.

  Her discomfort must have shown in her tone, or perhaps her abruptness was enough to warn Jada off. They sat in silence a long time, sipping their coffee and watching long shadows creep into the world as the sun set. When they spoke again it was about mundane matters—shared acquaintances, gossip and the movements of their small world of art. Gradually the pressure on Madison’s chest lifted and she was able to smile again. To laugh at Jada’s jokes and cutting remarks about people and things she found tedious. They caught up on each other’s lives until the sun slipped away and their appetites sent them to change for dinner.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Kacey had reserved the chef’s table for them and personally seated them. She pulled out Madison’s chair and kissed her on the cheek before heading over to help Jada. She wouldn’t let her sit without a long, tight hug that Jada obviously enjoyed for the first half.

  “I can’t tell you how happy I am you made the trip, Jada,” Kacey said, gently sliding the chair into place behind her. “Isn’t the cottage amazing?”

  “Gorgeous. I can’t imagine how you two lucked out like this.”

  The way Kacey threw her shoulders back and widened her smile, she obviously took it as a compliment. Her eyes darted around the room to see how many people were watching them. “Did Madison show you her pottery?”

  “She did. It’s some of the best she’s ever done.”

  “The best, for sure.” Kacey smiled over at Madison, who felt warmth on her cheeks and fiddled with her napkin.

  “And you!” Jada chirped, taking in the bustling restaurant. Every table was full, and several people milled about impatiently near the door. “What an achievement.”

  “I couldn’t have done it without Madison.” She came around the table and put a soft hand on Madison’s shoulder. “She’s my inspiration and my rock.”

  “You did all of this by yourself, darling.”

  Kacey leaned over and kissed Madison on the lips. The soft press and moisture were only there for a second, but it was enough to make Madison’s heart race. Kacey’s lips always had that effect, even with the trace of uncharacteristically sweet lip gloss she left behind.

  After that, Kacey had to dash back to the kitchen. She detoured through the dining room first, checking on special guests and allowing a few group pictures. A waitress with a high ponytail, slightly vacant eyes, and a perfume that made Madison cough, brought them each a dirty martini. Madison sipped hers once when Kacey was looking and then set it down, knowing she wouldn’t pick it up again.

  Sipping her martini much more enthusiastically, Jada scanned the room. There was a glint of the mercenary in her eye, and Madison knew she was guessing at net worth and disposable income of every guest. They were the sort of people Jada was used to being around. Not only did she own the most high-end gallery in art-mad Denver, she came from money.

  Since they were at the chef’s table, Kacey brought each course herself, explaining the food and ending with a little bow before heading back to the kitchen. She was the consummate actor, and this stage suited her better than any other. The first course was flash-seared Hamachi loin with a dry-spice rub. It was a dish she’d been tinkering with for years, and this was the best version Madison had tried. The presentation was exquisite and the curry powder made a nice and unexpected foil for the chipotle in the rub, but there were sharp bitter notes where the spices had scorched. The aioli was silky smooth and aromatic. Jada devoured it, and the accompanying glass of white wine, happily.

  “What’s next for you,” Jada asked. “More of these texturized vases or do you have something else in mind?”

  Madison rarely planned her projects until she sat at the wheel, but Jada had been trying to steer her to a more focused schedule. It didn’t take long for Madison to think over her artistic vision. “I’ve been inspired by the lavender they grow between the vines here. In the summer it smelled divine. I’m thinking of incorporating it into my work.”

  “How so?”

  “I’m not quite sure yet. Maybe the shape or the color. I’m researching if I can make a glaze using the flowers themselves.”

  “How intriguing,” Jada murmured, her eyes scanning the room. She sat up with a start. “My god, that one is hot as hell. Is that your host, Maddie?”

  Madison snapped out of her reverie to follow the line of Jada’s appreciative gaze. CS had just walked in, cleaned up for the occasion with light, well-fitted khakis and a white button-up shirt with a mandarin collar open at the throat. It was open considerably lower than the throat, actually, showing a peek of navy blue from a tank top beneath and a large swath of tanned shoulders and chest.

  “Yeah,” Madison said, looking hard herself. The memory she’d suppressed all week, of CS’s arm brushing against hers, floated to the surface.
“That’s CS. You can meet her if you like.”

  “Oh, I like,” Jada purred, reaching across the table and appropriating Madison’s discarded martini. “Give me a little time to enjoy the show first, though.”

  Madison covered her laughter with the back of her hand. She’d forgotten how much fun it was to be with Jada. “I hate to be the one to break this to you, Jada, but you’re straight.”

  “I may be straight, but you know there’s nothing on me that’s narrow,” she said, patting her wider than average hips with one hand and holding her martini close to her lips with the other. “Besides, there are exceptions to every rule and she’s got exceptional written all over her. If I were ten years younger, I’d be all over her.”

  “That would be a waste of a perfectly good evening.” Kacey slid a plate of plump, bright white fish resting on a bed of shimmering greens in front of each of them as she spoke. The aroma was mouthwatering, full of rich, earthy mushrooms and a sharp citrus tang.

  Madison definitely didn’t like Jada’s implication. She picked up her fork and spun it between her fingertips. “She isn’t that much older than we are.”

  “She’s forty-two,” Kacey said to her before turning her attention back to Jada. “Really though, she’s a cold fish, Jada. You don’t want to waste your time with CS.”

  “Really?” Madison asked, surreptitiously following CS’s progress to the bar. That made her fourteen years older than Madison. The gap in ages was significant, but what did it matter really? “She doesn’t look that old.”

  “Must be all that sunshine and physical labor,” Jada purred.

  “Must be all that frowning and silence,” Kacey replied, a bite to her words. The blond waitress was back with a pair of wineglasses, these filled a little higher than the last. “Heads up, here she comes.”

  “Not the Ice Queen?” the waitress said, squeezing Kacey’s arm as she left. “Brace yourself.”

  “She’s not cold.” Madison ignored Kacey’s eye roll and focused on Jada. “Really, she isn’t.”

  CS stepped up to the table, her neat, brown loafers sliding silently across the floor. Madison refolded the napkin in her lap, using the adjustment as an excuse to check the way the shawl lay across her shoulders and smooth out the creases of her dress. CS smiled awkwardly at all of them, but directed her quiet speech to Madison.

  “Nice to see you all. Won’t you introduce me to your friend?”

  Madison tried not to sneer at the way Jada smiled up at CS, all of her perfectly straight, square teeth on display. “CS Freeburn, this is my friend Jada Welch. She runs an art gallery in Denver.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Welch.”

  “It’s Mrs. Welch, actually, so you should just call me Jada. I’m just in love with your winery. It’s like a little slice of heaven.”

  “As long as you don’t mind walking a good deal.” CS smiled down at the tall heel poking out from under the tablecloth where Jada had her legs crossed. “Will you be here with us long?”

  “Unfortunately not. I have some meetings in Seattle tomorrow, so I have to leave tonight.”

  “That’s a shame.”

  “We tried to talk her into staying,” Kacey said with an unpleasantly suggestive purr. “But she’s very stubborn.”

  “Perhaps next time,” CS said. She nodded to Jada, smiled at Madison and left just as abruptly as she arrived, without acknowledging Kacey’s presence with as much as a glance.

  Just before she was out of earshot, Kacey scoffed, “Like I said, she’s a cold old hag.”

  Madison swatted Kacey’s arm, watching CS’s retreating form for any sign she’d heard. She turned back to her fish when she felt Jada’s eyes on her, watching her watch CS leave.

  “I should play the crowd,” Kacey said, leaning down and kissing Madison’s forehead. “You’ll at least stay for a drink before you head into town?”

  Jada wasn’t driving all the way to Seattle tonight, but she did need to stay in Portland if she had any hope of meeting her client for lunch the next day. Madison could see her doing the math in her head, two martinis, a few glasses of wine, but there would be a cup of coffee at the end of it and the carriage ride back to the gate.

  “Not this time. Maybe next visit.”

  “Oh come on,” Kacey pressed. When she leaned over again, Madison could smell the lip gloss again, too sweet and too strong, like it had smeared over her chin during their kiss. “One drink won’t kill you.”

  “But my client will if I’m late. Next time.”

  Kacey sighed with resignation. Waving, she headed off into the dining room. While they ate their rich and buttery but over-seasoned fish, they watched Kacey and CS make their ways separately among the guests. CS seemed ill at ease and headed for the door just as a burst of Kacey’s too-loud laughter drew everyone’s attention to her.

  “Do be careful, Maddie.”

  Madison sipped her wine absently as the door shut behind CS’s retreating form. Through the glass, Madison could see her heading toward the stairs that led upstairs to her office and, presumably, her apartment. She focused back on Kacey, whose laughter quieted slowly as she soaked in the indulgent smiles of her admirers.

  “Kacey’s always been a flirt. It keeps the diners happy. It’s harmless.”

  Jada laughed softly. “Oh yes, Kacey. You should be careful of her too.”

  The rest of dinner passed in a blur and long before Madison was ready to let Jada go, their time was up. Walking Jada to the gate was an unexpected delight. Minerva had been quiet for her—solitude interrupted only briefly by visits from Boots. She didn’t have genuine quality time with someone who truly knew her—just late afternoon chats with Kacey through a steamy shower door. All day with Jada she’d had that.

  “You know dear,” Jada said, her voice rich as the earth beneath their feet. “I think what you’ve got in the loft is enough for a solo show, and those vases you left with me—the amphora especially—would round it out nicely.”

  Madison’s heart sank. “The amphora?”

  “I know you love it, dear, and I know you didn’t leave it with me to sell, but you really must consider it. It’s a sure sell if ever there was one.”

  Madison had never had a solo show before, especially not one at such a highly rated and richly attended gallery as the Welch. The opportunity was exactly what professional artists strive for yet so many never achieve. If she lost that now over her attachment to a single amphora, it would be a blow from which Madison’s career may never recover.

  “Of course,” she said, injecting as much cheer as she could into her words. “As long as it goes to someone who loves it as much as I do.”

  “I’ll be sure it does. You can trust me, darling.”

  When they arrived at Jada’s rented Mercedes, she let go of Madison’s arm and turned to look back at the shadowy, moonlit hills through the wrought-iron fence. The bare vines glowed gray-black in the pale light of the moon.

  “You’re right, Maddie.” She put her long-fingered hand gently on Madison’s shoulder. “This place is perfect for you.”

  Her smile was genuine and proud and Madison pulled her into a hug, laying her cheek against Jada’s collarbone like a child.

  “Thank you, Jada.”

  “Unexpected I think, but the unexpected things in life are the sweetest.”

  Madison watched until her taillights were out of sight before heading back through the gate. Instead of brooding over the loss of her amphora or the excitement of a potential show, Madison took in the night vista as Jada had, with new eyes as her feet beat the familiar path home.

  The feeling of the place was mystical, like an abandoned fairytale she’d wandered into alone. She didn’t go inside the cottage. She kept walking, traveling to the edge of their little front yard, outside the glow from the house. A breath of wind stirred the loose folds of her dress, the skirt snapping gently like the banner flag on parapet at Camelot.

  She stopped at the nearest trellis to touch the wi
thering leaves of the vine. She looked down the hill, where the first tendrils of mist were starting to coalesce. It was far too dark for her to see anything properly at the bottom of the hill except the faint glow of the light outside the stable.

  Her eye caught a flash of movement. A sweep of white and light brown. The clothes, square shoulders, and powerful frame made the figure easy to identify even from this distance. CS slipped inside, closing the door behind her. A second later, the light over the stable door flickered out.

  Chapter Nineteen

  All interest in work had drained out of Madison after Jada left. For a week she woke up early and sat at her wheel, and for a week no inspiration came. Clouds gathered every day, threatening undelivered rain. Madison’s world existed in a perpetual twilight and the gloom seeped into her soul. On the eighth day she had barely sat down at her wheel before the emptiness blossomed into frustration and she launched herself off her stool to pace the cottage. She cursed her energy that had morphed from productive to restless and irritating.

  She had even gone so far as trying to convince Kacey to skip work one night. Madison begged her to call in sick, let them play hooky together just this once. Kacey couldn’t do it, of course. They were kicking off the new menu that night and she had to be there to make adjustments on the fly. Madison agreed it was the right thing to do, but it didn’t keep her from pouting as she watched Kacey hurry off earlier than usual, still buttoning her chef coat as she rushed up to the main building.

  Madison was lonely. She realized in the shower that she’d actually been lonely for a while. She had enjoyed the solitude, but she’d had too much of it. There was an emptiness in her that couldn’t be filled with work. It was nice to chat with Boots and walk with CS, but that wasn’t the solution. The need to connect with someone on a deeper level. It was a need Kacey generally filled, but she was so busy. Madison made a mental note to talk to her about it when she came home from work. The conversation would require tact so it didn’t sound like blame, but it was a talk they needed to have.