“No, please.” I pointed to one of the other chairs at the table for four. I honestly could have kissed him right there and then.
“I’m dying of thirst,” he said. He signaled to the waiter and glanced at my little teapot. “You want something else?”
The waiter promptly arrived.
“A beer,” James said to him. “Whichever local one you have on tap today.”
Then James looked to me, raising his brows in a question.
“Sounds good,” I said.
It wasn’t four o’clock yet, but on a day like this, I was in.
It took him a second to get settled into his chair.
“Good game?” I asked.
“Caleb’s a strong player. I got a serious workout.”
James had obviously taken a quick shower. His hair was slightly damp and he’d changed into a pair of charcoal slacks and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
He was a good-looking man, tall and fit. He didn’t have Henry’s flamboyance or gregariousness. He wasn’t tennis-club royalty. But he’d always been respected for his playing skills.
Now...well, now he had to contend with the tactless gossip over Brooklyn running from St. Fidelis in her wedding gown. Consensus had it that James had been marrying up, and it came as no huge surprise to some that Brooklyn had dumped him for a better offer.
I could only imagine they were saying similar things about me. My relationship with Henry had only lasted a few months, but people probably assumed I was a quick fling for him, a roll in the hay, a temporary detour to the short and mousy side.
I wondered when it would stop feeling so humiliating.
I hoped James hadn’t heard the worst of the Brooklyn gossip. I really didn’t subscribe to the misery-loves-company school of thought. Nope, the fewer people in the world who felt the way I did right now, the better.
“I might have to do some biking later to make up for the lost game,” I said, switching my thoughts to something more productive.
I wasn’t a fitness freak by any stretch, but I did count on my Saturday tennis games for a weekly workout.
“Where do you ride?” he asked.
“Along the Cadman lakeshore, mostly. My apartment’s only a few blocks from Green Gardens.”
“I’ve ridden there,” he said. “It’s nice in the fall.”
The waiter arrived with two frosty mugs of beer.
“Can you cancel Ms. Remington’s court time?” James asked as the waiter put coasters under the mugs.
“Certainly, sir.”
I thanked them both with a smile. Then I gripped the handle of the generous mug. “It might not be a very long bike ride after I finish this.”
James smiled at my joke and held his own beer in a toast.
I bargained with myself out loud. “Maybe I’ll go tomorrow morning instead.”
Then as I clinked my glass to his, I caught sight of Henry, his arm around Kaylee as he regaled the four other people at their table with some kind of a story.
“Something wrong?” James asked me.
I realized I was frowning. “No. Nothing.” I turned my attention back to James.
But he looked over his shoulder and saw Henry.
“Ahhh, Paulson. That’s got to be aggravating.”
Aggravating wasn’t exactly the word I’d use.
“It is,” I said.
James’s dark blue eyes turned sympathetic.
I didn’t want his pity. And I didn’t want him to think I was wallowing in my own misery, either—even though I was. To be fair, I was wallowing in more than just my breakup with Henry. I liked to think I’d made a bit of progress from the breakup. But on aggregate, there was a lot to wallow in about my life right now.
I tried to shake it off. “It’s nothing compared to you.”
The words were out before I realized how they were going to sound. I’d managed to be both tactless and insensitive all in one fell swoop. I tried to backtrack. “I mean... I didn’t... I’m sorry.”
“I’d rather you blurted it out than silently thought it—or whispered it like everybody else around here.” He scanned the room. “And it is nothing compared to me. I was dumped on a much grander scale, an epic scale, the scale to end all scales here at the Harbor Club.”
I wanted to disagree. I should probably disagree. But he was right, and if I said anything other than that, I’d be lying.
“How are you holding up?” I asked in a quieter tone.
“It’s weird,” he said. Then he took another drink. “I keep finding her stuff in my apartment. I don’t know what to do with it. Do I send it to her? Do I store it for her? Do I burn it?”
“Burn it.” The words had popped out. “Wait, I shouldn’t have said that.”
But James chuckled. “I like your style.”
Brooklyn was my close friend. But even close friends did bad things. And James deserved to be angry with Brooklyn. He deserved to light something on fire.
“Then can you explain your gender to me?” I asked James.
Somehow one beer had turned into two.
“I doubt it,” he said.
“Are they just shallow?”
“Mostly.”
“I mean, look at Candi over there.”
“I think her name is Callie.”
“Not Kaylee?”
“Should we ask?”
“No!”
James chuckled at my panicked-sounding tone. I wasn’t really panicked. I was just...well, self-conscious about even caring who Henry-the-cad was dating now.
I lowered my voice and leaned in. “Is she really what all men want?”
James slid a surreptitious glance to their table. “Some do.”
“Some or most?”
“Okay, lots.”
I heaved a sigh. I wasn’t exactly disappointed, since I’d known the answer all along. Still, it didn’t renew my faith in men in any way.
“Women are no better,” James said.
“We’re not obsessed with looks.”
“You’re pretty obsessed with looks, but you’re even more obsessed with power and prestige.”
I couldn’t completely disagree. “We also want compassion and a sense of humor.”
“A sense of humor is pretty hard to quantify.”
“I suppose. And you can’t exactly see it coming from across the room.”
James tapped his mug on the table as if for emphasis. “See? Women are just like men. It’s human nature to start with looks. Maybe it’s because they’re the easiest benchmark when you first meet.”
“I wish I had them.” The minute I made the admission, I wanted to call it back.
James