My brows pulled tight. “Where are they?”
“Nowhere. I don’t have any.”
“Why not?”
She shrugged. “My ex took them when he moved out, and I never bothered to replace them.”
“Your ex? How long ago was that?”
“The divorce was finalized three years ago.”
I had no idea she’d ever been married, but I didn’t find that information half as disturbing as not having dishes for three years. “How do you eat?”
“I have most of my meals at the office, but sometimes I get takeout at home.” She laughed and pointed to my face. “You look horrified. Does it help if I tell you I do have utensils? And a few coffee mugs.”
“Not really.”
Her smile widened. “I mentioned my lack of dishes to my therapist this week, and she was very bothered by it, too. I’m not sure why it doesn’t seem to faze me.”
“Why did your ex take the dishes? Were they his before you got married or something?”
She sipped her martini. “They were his grandmother’s. She gave them to us as a wedding gift. He offered to replace them for me, but I told him not to.”
“Did you work until midnight when you were married?”
She shook her head. “No, I didn’t have to back then. Maybe eight or nine, some nights. I had a business partner. Tyler did half the work, maybe even more. He and I started Amourette together right out of college.”
“What happened to him?”
“He died. About a month after my divorce was finalized.”
“Shit. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. He was in a car accident on his way out to the Hamptons for the weekend.” She picked up the toothpick with skewered olives and used it to stir her drink. “That’s when I started working a hundred hoursa week. Last year, I sold part of my company to a big conglomerate. I wanted the resources they were going to bring more than the cash infusion, but that’s turned out to be a nightmare. They try to micromanage things and want to mass produce my product line overseas rather than make them locally.” She laughed. “And I have no idea why I’m telling you all of this. I have a therapist at Sierra who would be thrilled if I told her any of it, and yet I can’t seem to open up to her. The dishes thing just sort of slipped out one day.”
I shrugged. “I don’t mind.”
She lifted the toothpick to her mouth and used her teeth to pull off one of the olives. “Anyway…a failed marriage, a dead business partner, and I also made some bad financial decisions like investing in a factory that went belly up, and yeah, I guess I probably could use this forced vacation. Though it would’ve been nice to decide to take it on my own.”
“Would you have ever done that? Checked into Sierra, I mean.”
She smiled sadly. “Probably not.”
“Sometimes things happen that we might not have picked for ourselves, but they turn out to take us in a new direction that turns out even better.”
February’s eyes dropped to my lips. I wanted more than anything to lean in and kiss her. When her gaze rose and met mine, I got the feeling she knew it. After a few seconds, she looked away and knocked back the rest of her drink. “I guess I should be going.”
I nodded. “I’ll drive you.”
“Thanks. I won’t fight you about taking the ride tonight. These boots aren’t the most comfortable to walk a mile in.”
We were both quiet for the drive back to Sierra. Once we passed through the gate, I turned my lights off and pulled around to the back of the building. Too bad her ladder was waiting for her. I wouldn’t have minded her having to crash at my place again.
“Thank you for letting me hang out. And for the ride back.”
“Anytime.” I dug into my jeans pocket and pulled out an old iPhone. “Here. You said your friend’s cell was confiscated. Take this one. It’s ancient, but it works. It’s the bar’s telephone, but no one ever calls it.”
“That’s sweet, but it’s okay.”