Page 113 of Niccolaio Andretti (The Five Syndicates)
“Do you have any idea what you want your invitations to look like?”
This was a mistake. “I should go.”
Indifference. “Okay. Would you like any samples?”
“I’ll come back.”
“Have a good night.”
* * *
I stood outside the store and scrubbed my face. Three freaking months until the wedding. I had no idea how we were going to get everything planned in time. I looked around the busy street. Why did everyone around me seem to have such purpose in their life and I was incapable of making even the simplest of decisions. Someone from behind almost walked over me.
“Watch where you’re going,” the woman snarled.
“Sorry,” I called after her.
Matt was working late, but he needed to eat, right? I would go to his office, wait until his meeting was finished and then see if maybe he wanted to order take out. He worked far too many hours. He could afford to spend half an hour with me. With renewed determination, I walked towards his office building. I stood across the street, waiting for the light to change when I saw him walk with purpose down the steps.
I raised my hand and waved. “Matt!”
My voice was drowned out beneath the roar of the street.
He walked towards a cab that was waiting. I watched as a woman got out of the cab. I couldn’t see her face, but she had long beautiful brown hair. He smiled and kissed her on the cheek before they both climbed back into the cab.
I stood there in complete shock. The light turned green and people streamed around me. Had that really been Matt? Who was the woman?
I swallowed hard and crossed the street, feeling my rapid heart beat in my chest. It was probably just a client. Matt was probably working a business dinner. That was all. My granny used to warn me not to borrow trouble with my imagination. She always said that it would lead to nothing good. She used to tell me that I needed to take life as it was and stop worrying about things I had no control over. It took me 15 minutes before I managed to find a cab.
“Where to lady?”
I gave him my address and sank back into the worn seat and stared unseeing out the dirty window. How likely was it that he would kiss a female client on the cheek? If I confronted Matt about this, he would tell me that I was being both stupid and insecure. I sighed.
“That’s quite the sigh,” the driver said, “Tough day?”
Our eyes met in the review mirror.
“I just saw my fiancé get into a cab with another woman.”
He gave me another glance. “What spooked you?”
“Pardon me?”
“What’s making you nervous?”
I toed a dirty Kleenex on the floor with my sneaker. “He kissed her on the cheek. He stood me up and said he was busy working and then I saw him smiling at her and he kissed her on the cheek.”
“What kind of kiss?”
“Uh.”
“Was it a sexy kiss or more that french thing on both cheeks? Maybe he was trying to be sophisticated.”
My mind replayed what I saw. Matt had put his hand on her upper arm. He had been smiling at her face. And when he leaned in and kissed her, he had lingered. It had felt intimate.
“He lingered.”
The cab driver shook his head. “You know, in my line of work, I’ve seen it all. Trust your gut. If you saw something you didn’t like, it is probably ten times worse than you’re imagining.”
