never home, Mother had hobbies. She took classes. Painting. Knitting. Needlepoint. Calligraphy. Aura reading.” Over the flickering light of the candle, his gaze connected with hers. “Neither of them were around much. I became pretty self-sufficient.”
“It sounds to me like your mother was hurt about your father working so much. She was probably hiding in her hobbies.” She finished off the wine in her glass. “And I can’t decide if you take after her or your father.”
“How about neither?”
She shook her head. “You put in a lot of hours at the hospital.”
“And you know this—how?”
“While the women wait in your line, they talk about you.” The snarky remark made him smile, just as she’d intended. “It’s said that you’re dedicated. So either you’re a workaholic like your father, or you’re hiding like your mom.”
Just then Mario brought their salads. “Is there anything else I can get you?”
“Not right now,” Nathan said.
The light, carefree expression had disappeared and it was her fault. Cindy wished for a filter from her brain to her mouth, but it was too late for that.
They ate in silence for a few minutes. At least he did. She pushed romaine lettuce and croutons around the plate and not much of it got eaten. She wished she’d kept her views to herself.
Finally she couldn’t stand the silence. “Look, Nathan, it’s just my opinion and worth what you paid for it. About now you’re probably regretting this invitation. The offer of sex with no strings attached must look pretty good. Sometimes I don’t know when to keep my mouth shut.”
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