I left my shaving kit on top of the dresser and wandered down the hallway to the bathroom. It was large considering the size of the apartment, with a roomy shower/tub combination and a dual sink vanity.
I used the john, washed my hands, and went to join Tim in the kitchen.
Tim looked up from the take-out menus that were scattered in front of him and nodded toward the two bottles on the table. “Beer, Sweets?”
“Thanks. Let me feed Miss Su first.” I filled a bowl with water and emptied the can of Grilled Salmon Feast in Gravy into her food bowl. “Din din, puss,” I called. The words were barely out of my mouth before she came trotting in. She rubbed her cheek against my leg, then began to eat. “I guess all is forgiven, huh?”
I picked up the beer, twisted off the cap, and took a long swallow. Too wound up to sit, I leaned back against a counter and gazed around the kitchen.
Calling it “a little dated” was being kind. Tim had joked that the first time he’d seen it, he’d said, “The ’50s called. They’re looking for their kitchen.” Black and white linoleum squares covered the floor, and black and white tiles were on the counter and backsplash. The wallpaper was covered with dancing coffee pots, frying pans, blenders, toasters.
However, the avocado-colored appliances were a little more modern, dating from the ’70s.
“I don’t want to hurt your feelings, Tim, but this kitchen really needs a make-over.” I started to say that Wills would be the perfect man to do it but bit the words back. He’d never do any work in this apartment.
I tuned back in to what Tim was saying. “…and once the Pub is in the black…”
“You can’t use that for an excuse. I’m your accountant. The Pub has been in the black for the past six months. What’s the skinny?”
Tim’s grin was lopsided, and idly I wondered if it did to Cris what my lover’s did to…I dragged my mind away from the bastard who’d broken my heart.
“You know me, Sweets. I have no problem running a bar, but when it comes to stuff like this…” His gesture encompassed the room. “…I’m at a total loss. And Cris isn’t much better. Besides, it’s not too bad.”
“You’re joking, right? It’s awful.”
“You think?” He looked around, mildly surprised. “Hmm. I guess we could use a new fridge.”
“And a new oven. A microwave and a dishwasher would be good too.”
“Yeah? Yeah. I guess we have enough room. Listen, after we eat, why don’t we go shopping? You can give us the benefit of your expertise.”
I looked at him sharply. Was this something to take my mind off my lover’s…my ex-lover’s betrayal? Tim was looking over the menus and didn’t notice, and I decided that if it was, it didn’t matter. I needed something to take my mind off how Wills had treated me.
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Good. So, what do you feel like for dinner?”
“Whatever you want, Tim. I’m easy.”
“That’s the one thing you never were.” He reached for a menu, then shook his head. “Why are we keeping this? Cris swears he got food poisoning from this place.” He tore it in half and selected another menu. “How about pizza?”
“No.” We’d had pizza on Christmas Eve.
“Thai?”
“No.” He’d often picked that up when I didn’t feel like cooking.
“Ruby Tuesday’s? They’ve got curbside service.”
“No.” That had been where we’d gone on our first date. I cleared my throat and looked away.
“Kick in the pants?”
“What?”
“Just checking to see if you’re paying attention or saying ‘no’ on general principles.” Tim grinned, but his eyes were concerned.
“Sorry. I’m just…Get whatever you feel like having, Tim. That’ll be fine.” My lower lip started to quiver, and I bit down on it. “I’m really not very hungry.”
“Sweets…” He sighed, picked up a menu that had Chinese letting on it, then with barely a glance and as if he had made up his mind to do something he’d rather not, set it aside. “Okay. Sit down and talk to me.”
“There’s nothing to talk about, Tim. I think I’ll just…”
He frowned at me and nodded at the chair across the table from his. I tried to out-frown him, but he was better at it than I was, and finally I sat, but I made sure he saw how grudging my compliance was.
He reached across the table and rested his hand on mine. “You’ve never said much about him.”
Wills, and my feelings for him, had been so special; I’d wanted to hug them to me to keep them safe. Smart move on my part, I thought in disgust. I’d really kept them safe.
“If I tell you about him, will you drop it then?”
“Sure.” He said it too readily, and I scowled at him, certain that behind his back, his fingers were crossed.
“He’s five foot ten. Brown hair, brown eyes.” Although his lashes and brows were black, and his lashes were the thickest I’d ever seen on a man.
“And?”