Taking a step back, she put the cup down on the glass counter beside the cash register, then directed her attention to the top box of the pile. “I went to bed early,” she said. “And then this morning my sisters came over. One of them is auditioning for that reality show, Marry Me. I have no idea why because she’s super gorgeous and has a billion followers on social media. Crosby is determined to be on television.”
She continued this fast monologue while pulling out various shoes and belts from the box. Antony watched in amazed silence as she wrote on a clipboard, itemizing everything. She seemed like a robot.
“And so Rose—her twin, and my um…other sister—she’s trying to convince her that she’s taking the woman’s movement back decades, but I think Crosby should go for it. Who knows? She might be picked and find a husband. Oh! Not that getting a husband is what she should be concentrating on. And that’s certainly not what I’m thinking about.” She chewed on her bottom lip then gave him a quick smile. “So?” she started. “You have the day off?”
“Oui,” he replied, trying to digest everything she’d just told him. “Crosby is real name?”
“Our mom loves movies,” Maxine started. “She was watching one every time she went into labor. When she had the twins she was watching White Christmas and named them after Bing Crosby and Rosemary Clooney.”
“And baby Maxine?” he asked.
“She was watching Mad Max.” “The road warrior?”
“Yeah.”
“I like it. Your mom sounds awesome.”
Maxine smiled at him. Then she opened another box and fished out a handbag. She cooed, clearly impressed. “This is Louis Vuitton.” She reached for a clipboard and started to write again.
“Is that good?” he asked. “I’m clueless with purses.”
She laughed. “Carmine has a lot of connections from his drag queen days. This whole shipment,” she said motioning to the tower of boxes, “came in yesterday from someone called, Ambrosia Dellagio. Carmine said he was one of the longest performers off Broadway.”
Maxine emptied the box, each time adding an item to the list on her clipboard. Then she started on the next container. Her eyes lit up, and she pulled out a red strapless floor length dress.
Antony studied the dress and then sized up Maxine. “Made for you,” he said.
She put the strapless dress on a hanger and added it to the clipboard. “Sure. Perfect for when I go grocery shopping.”
“I could think of better place.”
She smiled, but the dress remained on the rack. “How often do you work here? I thought you had
spa job?”
“Carmine doesn’t pay me, well not in the traditional sense. He gives me discounts and first picks…and sometimes gin. I mostly help with inventory. Westley comes in sometimes, he’s more of an expert than me.”
“Westley?” Antony’s voice went up.
“My baby brother. He’s named after the guy in The Princess Bride. Anyway, he works at Henry Roman’s. I don’t think that was the plan when he left college with a business major, but he gets good commission.” She reached back to the counter and took a careful sip of tea. Her eyes met his over the brim of the cup.
Antony unbuttoned his field coat. “So,” he started. “Are your sisters beautiful like you?”
She almost choked on her tea. “Rose and Crosby are practically runway models,” she said. “So…no.”
“I don’t understand,” he said, frowning at her. “They’re thin.”
Antony felt his shoulders slouch, worried he’d insulted her somehow. He looked at the generous bust of the dress and back to Maxine. “They couldn’t fill out red dress…non?”
Maxine took another sip of tea. A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, like she was enjoying a private joke.
He motioned to the red dress again. “Try it on.
Please?”
“I don’t think so, no. There’s hardly anything to hide behind.”
“You’re shy?” He took a step closer.
“About some things, yes.” She busied herself by taking a long sip of tea. The color was high in her cheeks.
Antony tilted his head down, getting eye level with her. “Je suis désolé, I’m sorry.”
She put down the tea and picked up the clipboard. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Your body is amazing, you’d probably look better in the dress than I would.”
“Excuse moi?” He half laughed, but the cheerless expression on her face made him suddenly self- conscious.
She hugged the clipboard to her chest. “Why are you here?” she asked.
A prickling sensation trailed down his spine. He felt like he was driving at night with no headlights on, just waiting for the next turn to send him careening off a cliff. “You invited me.”
“No, I mean, why do you want to see me? It’s obvious we’re in a totally different dating pool.” Then she cringed as if she’d said too much. “Sorry, I’m just trying to make sense of…well, us I guess.”
Antony’s heart was in his throat. “It’s not about wanting to see you,” he started carefully. “I have to see you.” It was the truth of course, just not the whole truth, but his genuine tone had struck something and soon he was spilling all his thoughts. “You live in Toronto all life, oui?” he asked.
“Oui.” She shook her head. “Yes, my whole life.
Why?”
“I came last year. And in whole time, I never spilled drink on a woman.”
The tiniest glimmer sparkled in her eyes. “And?” she prompted.
He took a small step closer to her. “And in that whole time, I never jumped into cab with a woman already in backseat.”
She played with the bottom button of her green cardigan. A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “And?”
“And I never lost cell phone before…ever.” His shoes came toe to toe with hers. “Il n’y a pas de hasards. Il n’y a que des rendez-vous. There are no coincidences, only encounters.”
They kept eye contact, and soon his breathing matched hers.
The clipboard had started to shake in her hands. Antony noticed the soft green nail polish. “What is nail polish horoscope for today, Maxine?” he asked.
“Close encounters,” she breathed. “Do you want me to stay?” “Yes.”
Antony took the clipboard from her hands and placed it on top of a tower of boxes. He stared at her, holding her gaze for several heartbeats. “I very much want to kiss you.”
“Me too,” she whispered. “But I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop kissing you.”
“I’m willing to risk it.” He leaned in, feeling the weight of her sigh in his arms. He kissed her like he was drowning and she was the air. It was more than a kiss with the mouth; it had passed through his muscles, his nerves, and every fiber until he was kissing her with his whole body.
When she leaned back, breathless and still in his arms, she motioned over his shoulder and said in a voice that made his blood rush. “Lock the door.”