From the moment I met Guy, I’d sensed that high-maintenance was the last thing he found appealing. He’s often said that, considering the craziness of his work, he appreciates how easygoing I am. What I’m unaware of is whether his appreciation is based on bad experiences with the opposite type of woman.
We don’t actually know a ton about each other’s romantic histories. He’s heard about Marc, of course, and how things grew tense between us after my first book took off. And Guy has shared a little about Meg, the woman he was engaged to in Chicago before she broke it off—leaving him gun-shy about marriage for years—and about Julie, the doctor he dated for a while in Miami. Due to the whirlwind nature of our relationship, and the commuter aspect of it as well, we haven’t had many long, leisurely talks about the past.
As I stare out the window, I realize I also don’t have much insight into Guy’s history fidelity-wise. I’ve always counted on him to be faithful to me—we’ve discussed the importance of trust—but I never out-and-out asked, Did you ever cheat on your fiancée or any of your girlfriends? I’ve been focused on us, on the present. Plus, my overriding sense of Guy from the start has been that he’s open, honorable, and forthcoming, and I haven’t required a lot of personal data to back that up. Maybe, though, I should have asked more questions. I’m not going to kick myself for not having done so, but now may finally be the time, as a way of helping me understand Guy better.
The place we’re eating tonight, the Saratoga National Golf Club, is just outside of town. As we turn into the driveway, I ask Guy how I should respond if either Kim or Nick brings up the murder.
“Why don’t you let me handle it,” he says as a valet attendant opens the car door for me. “I’ll figure out a way to redirect the topic.”
Stepping out of the car, I take in the imposing stone-and-wood building in front of us. According to Guy, the golf club is open to the public, but it’s clearly been designed to have the look and feel of a private club.
Once we’re inside the clubhouse restaurant, we’re led by the ma?tre d’ through the dining room to a covered flagstone terrace, where we find Kim and Nick waiting at a table right at the edge. Behind them is the lush green fairway with a pond that sparkles from the late-day sun.
Nick rises to greet us, and Kim, to my surprise, does so as well, kissing both Guy and me on the cheek and offering us a warm smile. Go figure, I think.
Guy’s predicted correctly about Kim. She’s not doing the casual thing. In fact, she’s dressed in a stretchy red crop top, with the shoulders dropped down and big disc-shaped gold earrings, a striking contrast to Nick’s Ralph Lauren polo shirt and khaki pants, and far sexier than her outfit the other night.
“Glad you could join us on such short notice,” Nick declares.
“How do you turn this down?” Guy says, sweeping his hand toward the fairway. “Great company, gorgeous view.”
We take our seats, and Nick wastes no time summoning the waitress. Guy, to my surprise, requests a martini, a drink I’ve never seen him indulge in during the week. As I request a glass of white wine, I sense Kim studying me, but when I look up, she simply smiles again, nicely. Maybe her behavior the other night was a total fluke or she morphs into an agent provocateur only when Nick is out of earshot.
“So have you been writing up a storm since we saw you?” Nick asks me. “I hear that when an author is hot, it’s important to get a book out every year.”
“That’s true with certain types of fiction—like thrillers,” I say. “But if you write nonfiction, you can let more time go between books.”
“I’m sure your fans are already eager for the next one,” Kim says. Again, sweet as pie, but no mention of whether she’s a fan, as she supposedly admitted to Barb. “Have you already started on it?”
“I’ve been toying with a concept. But hey, if you have any ideas, I’m definitely open.”
“Writing takes such discipline,” Guy interjects. “I really admire Bryn for parking herself in that chair and doing it.”
Is he covering for me, I wonder, or does he really believe I’ve been balls to the wall each day?
“Well, it’s an honor for us to have you in our neck of the woods,” Nick says. “Is this your first time here in the club dining room?”
“Yes, actually it is. I’ve been to a few spots in town, but generally when I came for up for weekends, we stayed in and cooked.”
“Oh, that’s right, you’re still practically honeymooners,” Nick declares, with a slightly lascivious overlay to his words. “Well, you’ll love this place. And you should definitely give one of the steaks a try.”