Captain of Industry by Karin Kallmaker

Author:Karin Kallmaker [Kallmaker, Karin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781594934919
Publisher: Bella Books
Published: 2016-06-16T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty

“So when did you watch Casablanca and The Graduate? If I remember the old Suzanne, she didn’t like classic movies.”

Suzanne delayed her answer until after the waiter delivered their orders, accepted their thanks and beat a discreet retreat. “A couple years ago. I like that channel that does Oscar movies all of March.”

“Do you have a favorite?” Jennifer separated the halves of her grilled cheese.

Suzanne was distracted from digging into her bison burger by Jennifer licking melted cheese off her fingertip. She does that on purpose, Suzanne thought. “Return of the King and The Sting. Even I thought the suits in The Sting were the bomb.”

“You’d look great in the Redford suits. That classic Forties look, you’d rock that hard.”

“I didn’t think I’d like On the Waterfront but I did.” She studied a spot just past Jennifer’s shoulder. When Jennifer turned to follow her gaze, Suzanne went for the nearest beer-battered onion ring on Jennifer’s plate.

A fork in the back of her hand brought her up an inch shy of her goal. “You could just ask.”

“You’ll say no because those look delicious. And so, so fattening.”

“Oh, that’s cold.” The pressure on the fork increased. “Are you saying I haven’t gotten enough exercise to have earned onion rings?”

“I would never imply such a thing.” She moved her hand out from under the pointy tines.

Jennifer studied the rings, then held out the largest and most deeply golden of the lot. “This is for the shower. Can I have some fries?”

Suzanne made a show of thinking about it, then passed over a handful. “Yeah, the shower was worth it.”

Jennifer mimicked a mechanical voice. “Your feedback is welcome and valued.”

On the surface they both seemed relaxed, but Suzanne couldn’t forget what Jennifer had said during their walk. Did she represent “settling” to Jennifer? She rubbed the fork dents in the back of her hand. Take them as a metaphor for what this weekend is going to do to your heart, she told herself. The shower had been every type of awesome, with Jennifer aggressive and playful until Suzanne had finally admitted that she was losing her ability to remain standing. She would never forget the feel of soft sheets against her back and Jennifer’s wet hair on her thighs.

When they finally wandered out of the pub and into the early afternoon sunshine Suzanne no longer felt like limp lettuce. The streets were reasonably quiet as the afternoon warmed. She’d been in Napa on a holiday weekend for a music festival and it had been wall-to-wall people. This sleepy autumn day was completely different. A couple was emerging from the Welcome Center and a woman was reading a book under a massive oak tree just starting to drop its leaves. The only crowd was on the patio of a celebrity chef’s branded restaurant, and a light breeze carried the scent of fresh bread and barbecue. “That almost makes me hungry again.”

Jennifer groaned. “I don’t think I could eat for a week. And I’m hoping the clothes fit tomorrow.

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