“Yes, sometimes,” she says. “Usually I sell my work on commission, though. Things are generally bought and paid for before I even start them.”
Tina looks amazed. “Wow. That’s incredible. You must be highly sought after.”
Coralie shrugs awkwardly. She always found it hard to accept compliments about her work. Looks like that hasn’t changed.
“Do you meet lots of famous people?” Tina gushes. I know Shane loves the woman, but I’ve always had this day dream that he’ll wake up one morning and decide that falling in love with and marrying Tina was the biggest mistake of his life. Shitty, I know. But then I’m a shitty person.
Coralie spoons some gumbo out onto her plate, eyes fixed on her food. “No. Almost never. I work from home. I have a garden studio at the back of my house. It’s…peaceful. I prefer it that way.”
Tina looks deflated. “That’s a pity.”
“I don’t have to meet anyone most of the time, actually,” Coralie says softly. “It’s quite nice.”
Coralie hands the serving spoon to Tina, who hands it directly to Shane so he can dish her food up like a fucking child. “I don’t think I’d like to be trapped in a room all day by myself,” she says. “I suppose your work would be fairly similar to that, wouldn’t it, Callan?”
Oh. So finally she speaks to me. I give her a tight, shitty smile. “Nope. I’m surrounded by people all day. The kid that gets my coffee. The kid that answers the phone. The kid that alters the lighting. The makeup and hair people.”
“I was actually referring to the wildlife shoots you go on. Y’know? Like the one that prevented you from coming to our wedding.”
“Ahh. Yeah. I suppose the wildlife shoots can be pretty solitary.” I do not look ashamed, sorry, or even slightly remorseful. If that’s what she’s expecting, then she can go fucking whistle. Shane glares at his wife, who refuses to acknowledge his silent plea for civility and instead smiles sadly at Coralie.
“I’m sorry we didn’t invite you to the wedding, Coralie. We just had no idea where to send the invite. We did ask Callan, but…”
“It’s not Callan’s fault we couldn’t send her a wedding invite, Tee,” Shane says. “Let’s just nip this in the bud right now, shall we? It’s been a very long time since all of us shared a meal together. Let’s not ruin it.”
Sitting back in her chair, Tina folds her arms across her chest, pursing her lips while she stares at me. “How about this. I won’t bring up Callan letting you down at the very last minute, if he apologizes to you. Sincerely.”
“He already has.”
“When?”
“Earlier this morning.”
“Well he hasn’t apologized to me.”
“I’m truly sorry, Tina, for having to fulfill my work responsibilities. Nothing would have brought me greater pleasure than attending your nuptials. Taking photographs of turtle eggs hatching on a beach in Costa Rica paled in comparison to watching you mash wedding cake into this poor bastard’s face.”
“Oh my god. Why are you such an asshole?” Tina leans back in her chair, and I see it’s not only Shane that’s gotten a little rounder in the waistline. I think about mentioning this, but then I catch the look Friday is wearing and I clamp my mouth shut. Jesus, the woman could freeze hell over with that look if she really felt like it.
Before she can demand that I apologize to Tina in a more genuine, less sarcastic manner, I decide it might be better to do so off my own bat. “Okay. You’re right,” I tell her. “It was crappy that I didn’t come. I should have figured it out somehow. I really am sorry. I guess these things are always more important to people than I realize. If you guys renew your vows in a decade, I’ll be there with bells on. You have my word.”
Tina looks a little shocked. She probably didn’t expect me to react to her calling me an asshole by moderating my behavior and giving her what she wanted. If I’ve learned anything over the past ten years, working with highly strung women, it’s that it’s far better to own your faults and acquiesce to their demands than it is to go to war with them. Horrible though it sounds, I don’t care if Tina bursts a blood vessel giving me hell. I care about Friday, though. I don’t want to ruin her night. She gives me an approving nod.
Tina and Shane spend the next thirty minutes while we eat firing question after question at Coralie. Is it really sunny every day in California? Does she ever see Leonardo DiCaprio at the grocery store? Does she have a boyfriend?
I nearly choke on my gumbo when she says yes to that last question. She’s young and she’s insanely beautiful, so of course she has a boyfriend. It shouldn’t come as a shock to me that she would be with somebody; after all I’ve taken a run at half the female population of New York over the years. I suppose I just never thought I’d have to hear her talk about being with someone else. It never occurred to me that one day perhaps I’d be sitting down at the same dining table with her, eating a meal, and she might be telling me about some douche bag called Ben.