Chapter 48
I was making a Long Island Iced Tea when I heard Robert say, "She's here."
I looked up. Robert was standing just to my left, looking tense and uneasy. He didn't need to say whoshewas, or why he was frowning.
It was Monday at three o'clock. Apology time.
I dug deep and summoned up a smile. "Great." I glanced toward the entrance, but didn't see her. "So, she's…?"
"Near the far wall." His frown deepened. "Table for ten."
I paused. "Ten?"
Okay, I knew I needed to apologize. And I knew it would be unpleasant. But nowhere in my wildest dreams had I envisioned myself apologizing in front of nine other people who had nothing to do with this.
Robert summoned up a smile of his own. It looked as fake as mine probably did. "Don't worry. It's just her." His smile faltered. "For now."
Again, he glanced toward the far wall. From this angle, neither one of us could see her table, but I knew exactly where it was.
"Oh," I said. "That's good."
We were in the middle of the afternoon lull, and the restaurant was barely half-full. The way I saw it, this was a good thing. The smaller the crowd, the better.
"Yeah," Robert was saying. "She got here early to hold the table. The way she talked, she's having a meeting or something after."
Meaning, after my apology, of course. Suddenly, I was more than eager to get this thing over with. Better to do it fast and early rather than wait for an audience.
As if reading my mind, Robert said, "If you wanna go now, I'll man the bar."
He didn't need to ask me twice. Working faster now, I put the final touches on the Long Island Iced Tea and set it in the waitress pick-up spot. "That's for Melanie," I said, lifting the small divider that separated the bar from the dining area.
Over my shoulder, I said, "Wish me luck."
As I left, I swear I heard him mutter, "Yeah. You're gonna need it." My steps faltered, but I didn't turn back. Choosing to believe he said something else, I moved purposely past the other sparsely occupied tables and into the section that he'd indicated.
I spotted the woman, sure enough, sitting alone at a table for ten. Breathing a sigh of relief that no one else had yet arrived, I moved toward her with my heart thudding in my chest.
I don't know why. I mean, I was no stranger to apologies, and the woman looked harmless enough. She was a soft-looking professional type, maybe forty years old, with a no-nonsense haircut and a blouse buttoned up to her neck.
And yet, I knew from our last encounter that she could be highly unpleasant when she wanted to be. I recalled the last time I tried to apologize. The more I told her how sorry I was, the more irate she became, until practically everyone in the whole restaurant had stopped to listen.
But now, sitting alone at that huge table, she had out her cell phone and was quietly looking down at the screen, as if checking email or something.
When I reached her side, she didn't look up. Instead, she turned slightly away and kept scrolling on her phone.
I paused. Shehadseen me, right? Filled with new uncertainty, I said in the most pleasant voice I could muster, "Excuse me? Um, ma'am?"
She gave an irritated sigh, but said nothing. She didn't even look up.
I hesitated. Was the sigh directed at me?
Obviously, she knew I was here. Shehadto know. Even if I hadn't said anything, here I was, standing right next to her chair – I felt my jaw clench – within slapping distance, as coincidence would have it.
I waited for a long, awkward moment, and when she still didn't look up, I tried again. "Excuse me. I'm sorry to interrupt, but—"
With another irritated sigh, she raised her arm and lifted her index finger, as if indicating I should wait one moment while she finished.
I waited, feeling my face burn with embarrassment. I don't know why. It wasn't that embarrassing, but it made me feel incredibly awkward just the same.
