Neanderthal Marries Human: A Smarter Romance (Knitting in the City) (14 page)

“
Can I help?” I glanced at the place she’d been rubbing. “Oh, see, that’s not going to work. Soda water doesn’t help with red wine—is that red wine?”

She frowned at me,
and her gaze flickered to the stain marring the otherwise pristine gown. “Yes, it’s red wine, but I don’t need your help….”

“
Yeah, that’s too bad. Most people don’t know this, but you should have used salt. Even then, depending on the fabric, it might not have made a difference. Then again, the stain is quite small and localized—may I touch your dress?”

“
What?”

“
Touch your dress, to determine the fiber content.”

She blinked at me, her mouth opened then closed. Finally, she said,
“Go ahead!” Her arms flailed from her sides in the universal sign for
I’m exasperated.

I sat next to her on one of the velvet stools and rubbed the thick material between my fingers.
“Oh. Silk.” I
tsked
and shook my head as I considered the stain at her waist. “That’s not coming out. If only you had something to cover it….”

My gaze drifted around the room,
searching for a quick fix. I wondered if the venue would notice if I tore a piece of pink velvet from the bottom of one of the drapes. Then, my eyes caught on the black gloves in my hands.

“
Ah ha!” I jumped up and held the gloves in front of her stunned face. “My gloves!”

“
What?”

“
My gloves.” I sat down again and lifted up my skirt, revealing a row of ten safety pins. “I thought it best to bring safety pins. One never knows when they’ll be needed. Also, I’m terribly accident prone, and this skirt is so big. The chances of me tearing something tonight were pretty high, so I brought pins.”

“
Pins?”

“
Yes, pins.” I took one of the gloves and formed a loose spiral, pinching one end. “I’m not very crafty, but I’ve been learning how to crochet recently, and I also learned how to make a fabric flower. The gloves are black silk, so if we just connect them like this…” I pinned the two gloves together. “…and fasten them in place, we can hide the stain and make it look like you have fabric roses at your waist. What do you think?”

I lifted my chin to look up at her face. She was staring down at where I held the two hastily as
sembled flowers.

“
Yes, that’s—that’s perfect. You’re a genius!” Her wide eyes moved to mine, and I was pleased to see she was smiling.

“
Thank you. I’ll have to put my hand under your skirt and against your stomach so I don’t stick you.”

“
Oh, go right ahead. I’m wearing those Spanx with the slit and I work in the fashion industry. I’m used to hands up my skirt.”

“
Spanx with the slit?” I set to work pinning the roses in place.

“
You know, Spanx? It’s like body armor and a girdle all wrapped in one. They hold everything in. And the slit is at my vag, so I don’t have to take off the Spanx in order to go pee or…you know….”

I paused my pinning and glanced up at her. Her lips were pressed together and her eyeb
rows were high on her forehead.

Finally, she finished the thought.
“You don’t have to take them off in order to have sex.”

“
Oh. Well…that’s convenient.” I nodded and resumed my pinning, pleased that women’s girdles had graduated from a virtual chastity belt to an open invitation. Then I tried to imagine myself having sex while wearing constricting underwear, and I became preoccupied with where Quinn would place his hands. If I’d been wearing slitted Spanx on Thursday night, he wouldn’t have torn off my underwear.

Then I decided that he likely wouldn
’t go for slitted Spanx because, more than anything, he seemed to want me as naked a possible when we were physically intimate.

“
Don’t take this the wrong way, but you could totally be a plus-sized model. You’re, like, exactly the right dimensions. You could wear stuff off the rack.”

Her words pulled me out of my thoughts
, and I leaned back to consider my handiwork. “No offense taken. I know I’m a big girl.”

“
No, you’re not a big girl. You’re a tall girl with big boobs. I’m not talking about a plus-sized catalogue model. I’m talking about high fashion, runway stuff. In high fashion, a plus-sized model is really just a normal model but with tits and ass for when the designers need a model who looks like a woman instead of a hanger.”

“
Oh.” I let her skirt drop and struggled with how to respond to her statement, which felt like a compliment, but I couldn’t be sure. I would need to discuss it with Elizabeth in order to be certain.

I felt her eyes on me for a beat then she turned to the mirror
and pivoted side to side as though to test the sturdiness of the applied flowers. “Wow, these are great. They look like they belong on the dress. Thank you.”

“
No problem.” I tugged at the top edge of my gown, as my aforementioned big boobs needed to be tucked back in a bit. They were precariously testing the boundaries of my bodice what with all the bending and pinning I’d been doing.

“
So….” She sat down on the stool next to mine and glanced at me from the corner of her eyes before opening a small white clutch and withdrawing some lipstick. “You’re with Quinn?”

I stared at her for a beat and thought about how best to answer. I decided it wouldn
’t be untrue to say that I was. “Yes.”

She watched me
, and several seconds passed. She seemed to be debating whether to continue.

Then, as though she couldn
’t hold her tongue any longer, she blurted, “He’s not a good guy, hon. He’s a user and an asshole. And you seem like a real nice girl….” Her eyes drifted over me, her eyebrows pulled low on her forehead, then her gaze moved back to mine. “Way too good for Quinn Sullivan. What are you even doing with a guy like him?”

I opened my mouth to
challenge her label of Quinn, not liking that she’d called him an asshole, but didn’t get a chance as she paused only to take a breath and turn back to the mirror.

“
I mean he’s just going to chew you up and spit you out. I can tell you with one hundred and ten percent certainty that he’s not interested in anything long term, not
ever
, not with
anyone
. If he tells you that you’re the only one he’s with, I guarantee you are
not.
”

“
How do you know?”

“
Because I used to be
with
him.” She snorted before adding, “Biggest mistake ever.”

“
Did he tell you that he wanted something long term?”

“
Well…no.” She pooched her lips and began applying the lipstick; her eyelashes fluttered. “He never…that is, he told me from the beginning that there were others, but I thought he’d cut them loose when we were together.”

“
So, he lied to you.”

“
He never lied, like out loud.
But
, it was implied that I meant something to him. I didn’t, and he’s a cold-hearted bastard, because when I told him I wanted to—you know—I was ready for things to progress to the next level, he dropped me! He said he didn’t date!”

I continued watching her, and my face must have betrayed my confusion and skepticism. I found it hard to believe that Q
uinn would ever lead anyone on.

Then again, he did have a histo
ry of being technically honest.

Then again, everything he
’d told me about his previous Wendell lifestyle indicated that he was never the aggressor; he was never the one doing the chasing.

Then again, Quinn and I didn
’t talk much about his slamps, even though I was still eager to learn about the logistics.

She, however, misread the cause of my skepticism, because she said,
“I know! Right? I couldn’t believe it either.”

“
How long were you two together?”

She pursed her lips, her eyelashes again fluttering.
“Like, I don’t know, a few weeks.”

“
And then you told him you wanted to be exclusive?”

“
That’s right!”

“
And he responded by telling you he didn’t date.”

“
Yes, the asshole.”

“
And that was the first time he’d given you any indication that he didn’t date?”

The lip pursing, lash fluttering increased. She
tsked
. “Like I said, he told me there were others when we met. After that, he didn’t want to do much talking.” With this last statement, she issued what can only be described as a smug, catty look.

I felt
that it was extremely misplaced, as she’d just admitted that he didn’t want to converse with her.

“
Yes. So he said.” I nodded.

“
What did he say?” Her head whipped toward mine, her eyes narrowed. “What did he say about me?”

I quickly processed whether admitting that he disliked her conversation would be a breech in trust. I decided against framing it
quite that way.

“
He just said that when you two were acquainted, you hardly ever spoke.”

Her mouth fell open and her cheeks flushed.
“Oh my. He said that to you?” She looked pleased. This further confused me.

Maybe Quinn was right. Maybe she was crazy.

“I can’t believe you’re with him after he told you that. Us girls need to look out for each other, and I’m telling you, he will use you and abuse you, and I’m telling you, you are too sweet.” Her eyes and the soft, sympathetic shake of her head told me she felt sorry for me. “You’re a sweet girl. You need to get away from him.”

“
Looking at this objectively, if you don’t mind, may I just summarize what you’ve said? This will help me understand.”

“
Go ahead. I know this must be hard. Go ahead if talking about it will help.”

“
Thank you.” I gave her a small smile because she seemed like a nice person. But I wanted to reiterate the facts so I could make a determination on her level of crazy. “When you and Quinn first got together, he told you he was with other women. Then, the two of you engaged in very little conversation. Then, later, when you told him that you wanted to be exclusive, he responded that he didn’t date. Do I have that right?”

“
Well, yeah….”

“
And that makes him a bad guy because…?”

“
Because good guys do not have multiple girls on the hook. Good guys don’t do those kinds of things. He is a user.”

“
But…he’s an honest user, yes?”

“
Just ’cause he’s honest about it doesn’t change the fact that he uses people.”

“
Hmm…you have me there. That’s an excellent point. I’ll file that away for later contemplation.”

Her gaze moved over me again, this time a bit more assessing than before.
“I assume he’s told you that there are others, right?”

Because
I was still marinating in her
user
comment, I responded without thinking of the ramifications of my words. “No, he hasn’t. Actually, we’re engaged.”

She didn
’t purse her lips, and her eyelashes didn’t flutter. In fact, she didn’t move at all for a good twelve seconds. Then, as though pulled, her eyes lowered to my left hand, resting on top of my knee.

She blinked just once,
as if she expected the ring on my finger to disappear. When it didn’t, she breathed, “No shit!”

Her stare moved back to my face
, and I struggled to remember the last time I’d seen a person so shocked.

“
Oh my God….” she said, then she repeated it with varying pitch and inflection. “Oh my
God
. Oh. My. God.”

“
Do you…need a glass of something?” I offered, because she looked truly distressed.

“
You’re his fiancée?”

I nodded.
“Yes.”

“
And you know that I used to
have sex with
Quinn and you’re in here patching up my dress and calmly discussing my relationship with him.”

“
Well…yes.”

She stared at me, her expression complete befuddlement
. “Aren’t you jealous? Pissed off?”

“
Jealous of what?” I titled my head to the side, tried to think back over our conversation to determine what part of it should inspire jealousy. “Because Quinn had sex with women before we met? I’m glad that he did. It’s provided him with a great deal of useful life skills.”