Daniel opened the passenger side door to find Marienne gathering books and stuffing them into the back seat.
“Sorry,” she said, stacking another four paperbacks and struggling to keep from dropping them.
“Here.” His long fingers closed around the books and he placed them in the back of the car. He picked up the last three, turning them to look at the bindings as he lowered himself into the seat. “Cummings, Segal, and Jong.” He read aloud, smiling at the collection. “You always have this many books in your car?”
“No. It’s the last of my stuff from the apartment. We don’t have all our bookcases up yet. We don’t even have them all bought yet. I want to put built-ins in two rooms, but Frank’s not a huge fan of the room-full-of-books look so we’re still debating. I’ve got tons of books.”
“Me too,” he said. “Heaps of them. Luckily I get to keep a lot of them at my office. One of the perks of being an English professor. They expect that you’ll have lots of books, so they give you plenty of shelves. That’s what’s kept my house from getting overrun.” He thought about Justine complaining about what dust collectors his books were.
“These are great.” He flipped through the Cummings book while Marienne started the car.
“Would I find any books in your car right now?” she asked.
He thought for a moment. “I don’t think so, though there usually are a few. Right now I think all I have is a stack of really bad freshman poetry. I’ve always thought cars should have a little bookshelf built in somewhere. You know, for when you’re in line at the bank drive-through, or stuck in traffic.”
“I don’t think reading while driving is really encouraged by the car companies.”
“True.” He chuckled. “I mean, not that I read while I’m driving. Well, I guess you are technically still driving when you’re stuck in traffic, so I suppose I do. See, this is why it’s a good idea for me to carpool with Frank when I do have to drive into the city. Countless drivers will be kept out of harm’s way because I’ll have someone to talk to and I won’t read whenever traffic stands still.”
He turned to look at her. She looked so tiny behind the wheel, much smaller than he’d expected, and not at all what he’d assumed Frank’s wife would be like. He’d figured that she would be business-like, more like Frank, and Justine, and she wasn’t. At all. Even in profile her eyes appeared huge, giving her face an innocent sweetness.
There was something very comfortable about her presence. He didn’t feel the way he usually felt around new people, as though they were trying to figure him out or sum him up. Marienne seemed content to just talk, and appeared to really listen to his answers. As a teacher, he was well aware of how few people listen to what others were saying. It was nice to feel that, for a change, someone was paying attention. And laughing at his jokes, which was always appreciated.
“Which house is it?” she asked as she turned down his street. “I’ve never seen it from the front.”
“It’s that one, right there.” He pointed out the window and Marienne pulled up in front of it.
“Thank you for the ride. Do you want to come in? Meet Justine?”
“No,” Marienne sounded apologetic. “I’m feeling pretty miserable. I can’t believe I met anyone in this condition. I’d like to meet her soon, though.”
“No worries. We’re not going anywhere. In fact, if you’re feeling better by Friday, why don’t you and Frank come for dinner. Sort of a ‘welcome to the neighborhood’. Nothing fancy. Chinese takeout and a game of pool? Do you like Chinese food?”
“Yes, we do. That sounds great. Though if you have a pool table, I have to warn you, Frank may ask to move into your house.”
“I’ll consider myself warned.”
“Do you want to check with Justine first? About dinner?” she asked.
“No, I’m sure she’ll be fine with it,” Daniel said, surprising himself, as he had no idea if she’d be anything of the sort.
“Okay, well I’ll check with Frank. He has your number, right?”
“Yes. Though you could just yell your answer across the yard,” Daniel said. “Actually, you better have Frank do the yelling. You’ve got a very soft voice.”
“You only think that because you’ve never heard me yell.”
“Is that another fair warning statement?”
“It might be, depending on how stage crew goes. We’ll see how good you are with your hands.” Her eyes widened and she blushed again, but Daniel laughed.
“I’ll do my best.” He opened the car door. Her eyes looked tired and glassy, but still twinkled with friendliness. “Thanks again for the ride.”
He smiled as he placed the three books onto her passenger seat and closed the door behind him.
Daniel checked the mailbox as he watched Marienne drive away. The fact that it was full of mail meant Justine wasn’t home yet. Good thing Marienne didn’t opt to come in to meet her.
He tossed the mail onto the kitchen counter. The house was stuffy, so he cranked open the window above the sink. The scent of rose bushes wafted in and he closed his eyes, remembering the first time he’d smelled them.
Although it was Justine who had insisted that they move to New Jersey, Daniel had been the one to do all the house hunting. He’d devoted eight consecutive Saturdays to touring potential homes so Justine could be closer to the new spa she was opening, but hadn’t found anything he’d liked. He was convinced they’d be better off keeping their apartment in Manhattan. It was close to his office at NYU, plus it was the first place that had really felt like home since he’d moved to the States years ago.
He’d been about to tell the realtor that he didn’t want to look anymore when she showed him the house in Highland Park. He knew the moment he stepped inside. This was the one. It reminded him of his childhood home in Oxford. Dark wood floor and winding staircase, window seats nestled in big bay windows, wide doorways rimmed with fluted rosette casings. Even the wallpaper seemed familiar.
He loved the way the hallway twisted and turned. It made him think of hidden rooms and secret passages—a lovely place to raise a family. He knew it would be a while before that was an issue, but he was looking forward to having children. Happy, healthy children who would explore the house and make up fantastical stories, like he did as a boy, only their stories would have happy endings.
Daniel heard the front door open. Justine walked into the kitchen. Her keys clattered onto the counter as she set down her purse and briefcase. Except for the faded lipstick, she looked as flawless as she had when she’d left in the morning. Her shoulders were taut, her mouth pursed.
“Hard day?” he asked.
“Yeah.” She nodded, reaching for the mail. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing. I just got home.”
He leaned over and kissed her. Her lips were smooth and soft beneath his.
She put two envelopes aside, then started pulling folders from her briefcase.
He ran his fingers up her back, trying to help her relax.
She leaned against his hand and sighed. “I have too much work to do.”
“You could take a break for a while. It’ll be more fun than work, I promise.” He brushed her hair aside and nuzzled her neck. “We could practice making a baby.”
Justine squirmed out of reach. “A baby is the last thing I need.” Her ice blue eyes flashed at him, matching the chill in her voice.
Daniel raked his hand through his hair, trying to quiet his frustration. “Have you eaten?”
“Yeah.”
Daniel opened the refrigerator and pulled out the leftover pizza from the night before. “That reminds me. I invited Frank and Marienne to come over Friday night.”
Justine’s brow furrowed. “What for?”
“Takeout and pool.”
“I meant why?”
“Because they’re our neighbors. Aren’t you at all curious to meet them?”
She raised her eyebrows.
“It’ll be fun,” he said.
&nbs
p; She scowled. “We’ll see.” She pulled another stack of papers from her bag. “I’m going up. I’ll probably fall asleep reading this.”
“I’ll be up in a bit.”
He watched as she walked down the hall. His stomach rumbled. He debated heating the pizza but decided not to bother. He took a bite. It was cold and rubbery, not at all what he was craving. He missed living two blocks from the Original Ray’s.
The summer breeze caught his attention and he glanced out the window. The lights were on at Frank and Marienne’s house. He was looking forward to Friday. A hot meal and some conversation were sounding better by the minute.
Chapter 3
Daniel placed the beer in the fridge. He’d picked up two six packs and two bottles of wine, unsure what Frank and Marienne liked to drink.
“What time did you tell them to get here?” Justine asked, leafing through a catalog on the kitchen counter.
“I didn’t. I said come over after work.”
“Well, I hope they get here soon. I’m starving.” She tossed the catalog into the trash. “What does Frank do again?”
“He’s a trader at Goldman Sachs.” Daniel could see the wheels turning behind her stormy eyes; she was always interested in meeting people who handled money. “Marienne is a graphic designer, I think. Not sure. You should ask her.”
“I will.” She glanced at the clock above the stove. “Can’t we at least order the food now?”
“I have no idea what they’ll want.” The sound of knocking interrupted him.
When he opened the door, he thought Marienne had decided not to come. All he saw was Frank, holding a bottle of wine. He felt a twinge of disappointment.
“Hey,” Frank said, stepping into the house.
Marienne was right behind him, holding what appeared to be a picnic basket. Oh, good. She’s here. She looked nervous, her eyes extra-wide, but she smiled as he held the door open for her.
Daniel made the introductions.
Marienne hoisted the picnic basket onto the kitchen counter. “I know you said we were ordering Chinese, so I made an Asian style snack mix. I didn’t know what you liked for dessert, so I brought fresh pineapple with caramel sauce… and brownies. Brownies go with everything.”
She was babbling, which Daniel found charming. He did the same thing when he was nervous.
Justine pried open the Tupperware of snack mix and popped a few pieces into her mouth. “Mmmm. You made this?” She plucked out more.
“It’s easy. Teriyaki sauce and spices tossed with rice crackers and pretzels. You bake it and then throw in wasabi peas.”
Daniel eyed the brownies, but took a handful of snack mix instead. “Wow, that’s good.”
Marienne smiled. “Do you mind if I put the fruit in the fridge?”
“Please. Allow me.” Daniel held out his hand to take it from her. “Can I get you a beer? Glass of wine?”
“Beer would be great. Thanks.”
Justine picked up the bowl of caramel sauce. “Did you make this, too?”
Marienne nodded, blushing. “I like to cook.”
“She’s a great cook,” Frank said, scooping up a handful of snacks. “That’s why I married her.”
Marienne smiled, but threw Frank a look.
Daniel opened two beers and handed one to Marienne. Frank poured wine into the glasses Justine had set out.
“So, who wants what for dinner?” Daniel held up the takeout menu.
While they waited for the food to be delivered, Justine suggested a game of pool.
“Nice table,” Frank said, running his hand over the mahogany edge. “Where’d you get it?”
“It came with the house,” Daniel said. “I think the previous owners didn’t want to have to pay to move it. It weighs a ton.”
“Good deal.” Frank selected a cue stick from the rack.
Justine tossed him the chalk. “It’s the only piece of furniture I’d have agreed to let them leave. The rest of their stuff was all God-awful oversized antiques.”
Marienne tucked her hair behind her ear as she leaned forward to sniff the vase of roses on the bar. “Are these from your garden? Your rose bushes are amazing.”
Daniel smiled. “Yes. That’s one of the things that sold me on the house. The whole place reminded me of my grandmother’s home in England. She had rose bushes just like these in her yard. As soon as I saw them, I knew this was the right house.”
“It was a sign,” Marienne said.
“Yes,” Daniel nodded. That’s precisely what I thought.
“I don’t believe in signs,” Justine said. “I believe in good investments. There were four other bids on this house when we tried to buy it.”
“Break.” Frank took the first shot, sending balls scattering, and pocketing two striped ones. “Stripes. You’re lucky you got the house if there was that much interest in it.” He lined up and sunk another.
“I wasn’t worried.” Justine took a sip of her wine. “Daniel, on the other hand, was a wreck. We were in the realtor’s office waiting for the verdict, and he was so tense it was getting on my nerves. I had to perform an… intervention.”
Daniel stared at her. Don’t…
“What’d you do?” Frank asked.
“I waited ‘til the realtor went down the hall to confer with her boss.” Her eyes gleamed. “Then I gave Daniel a blowjob.”
Frank’s cue stick skimmed the ball and jammed into the edge of the table.
Daniel’s eyes slammed shut. I can’t believe she said that. Humiliation washed over him.
“It worked like a charm.” Justine brushed past him. She sank her shot. “By the time the realtor got back, Daniel was quite relaxed.”
“I’ll bet.” Frank stared at her, obviously in awe.
Daniel couldn’t even look at Marienne. What must she be thinking?
Marienne felt her jaw drop when she heard Justine’s statement. She glanced at Daniel. His head was down, his hair swooping low over one cheek, but not enough to hide the deep flush. He looked so embarrassed, Marienne felt compelled to rescue him.
“Guess you sucked the tension right out of the situation,” Marienne said.
Everyone laughed, and Daniel threw Marienne a grateful smile.
The doorbell rang and Daniel went to answer it. Marienne watched as Justine skillfully banked a shot, much to Frank’s apparent dismay.
“Man, am I out of practice,” he lamented as they walked into the kitchen.
Daniel was already at the table, unpacking cartons of lemon chicken, twice cooked pork, and chow fun noodles. “Who wants chopsticks?” he asked.
“Fuck that, I need a fork,” Frank said.
Daniel laughed. “I think of chopsticks as my way of giving the food a fighting chance.”
Marienne giggled. She was glad to see that he seemed to have recovered. She snapped her chopsticks apart and began rubbing the edges together to smooth out any splinters.
Daniel grabbed a dumpling, and it tumbled out of his chopsticks, bouncing off the edge of his plate and onto the tile floor.
Frank snorted. “Dumpling—one. Daniel—zero. Sure you don’t want a fork, buddy?”
“Your granite countertops are beautiful,” Marienne said. Six burner stove. Subzero refrigerator. I’d love to have a kitchen like this.
“Thanks.” Justine nodded between bites of snow peas. “The kitchen was the first thing I changed. You should have seen this place when it was all covered in wallpaper. Ugh. It looks much better now. Only room I can’t get Daniel to agree to change is his office. All those built-ins and the window seat with the cupboards underneath. It’s so old fashioned.”
Marienne scooped a spoonful of fried rice onto her plate. “I have a window seat in my office. I’d sit there all day if I could.”
Daniel smiled. His office was his favorite room. The only one Justine hadn’t modernized.
“Daniel tells me you’re about to launch your health club,” Frank said, shoveling noodles into his mouth.
“It’s a women’s day spa,” Justine said, “called ‘Just in Time’. Full spa services, plus yoga and Pilates rooms. It opens Tuesday. If the first one does well, I plan to franchise.”
“She’d like her own empire if at all possible.” Daniel said.
“An empire would be great. For now I’d like another dumpling.”
Frank challenged Justine to a rematch. Daniel was pleased that Marienne stayed in the kitchen to help him put away the leftovers.
“Do you mind if I use your microwave?” she asked.
“Of course not,” he said.
She grabbed the bowl of caramel sauce out of the fridge and folded back the plastic wrap. The microwave beeped as the turntable started to spin.
“Spoon?” she asked.
“But we barely know each other…”
Marienne blushed and laughed.
Daniel handed her a spoon. “Shall I uncover the brownies?” He had yet to stop eying them.
“Sure. Have one.”
He needed no further encouragement. “Oh, my God.” He moaned as he took the first bite. “That’s fantastic.”
She smiled and opened the microwave door.
“Seriously. Brownies are one of my favorite things. I’d never heard of them ‘til I was twelve, and we visited the States.”
“Were you vacationing here?” She stirred the caramel and set the timer for another twenty seconds. The room filled with the buttery sweet smell.
“My mum’s best friend, Anne, married an American. We used to visit her every few summers. She lives right here in New Jersey, close to the shore. She made brownies for dessert one night. I thought they were the best thing I’d ever eaten. Yours are even better.” He popped the last bite into his mouth, already considering grabbing a second.
“Thanks. You know, you’re right, I lived in Oxford for a while when I was a kid, and I don’t ever remember seeing brownies.”
“Oxford?” he asked. “As in England?”
“Yes,” she said. “My father taught at the university as a guest lecturer for two semesters when I was twelve.”
“Oh, my God. My mother worked at the university, in admissions. I practically grew up on campus.”
Meant To Be (The Destiny Series Book 1) Page 2
