The Color of Heaven - 09 - The Color of Time by Julianne MacLean Page B

“It’s been seven years.”
    The bells over the door jangled as it opened. Three women walked in and took seats at the table in the alcove at the front window.
    “How are you ladies doing today?” I asked as I approached and handed each of them a menu. While they looked it over, I went to the kitchen to let Malcolm and Gabe know that we had customers, then I carried three glasses of water on a tray to the table.
    I had just finished unloading the drinks when the front door opened again and who should walk in, briefcase in hand, but Addison Murphy.
    Derek’s wife.

Chapter Twenty-four

    Addison stood on the welcome mat in her skinny black skirt, red pumps, white blouse and tailored blazer. She removed her sunglasses and looked around as if she were an interior decorator, there to gut the place.
    “Can I help you?” Cassie asked from behind the bar.
    I was behind Addison, standing in the alcove in the front window. Not that I was trying to hide from her or anything, but I wasn’t in any hurry to show myself either. At least not until I knew why she was there.
    Cassie obviously had no idea that this was Derek’s wife, who I’d spoken about more than once over a glass of wine after closing. I’d shown Cassie pictures of Addison on Facebook, but she obviously hadn’t made the connection.
    Making no move to acknowledge Addison or say hello, I simply walked past her to deliver the lunch orders to Malcolm, out back.
    Unfortunately for me, it became obvious that Addison hadn’t come in for lunch or a beer. She called my name, just as I was about to push through the swinging doors to the kitchen.
    “Excuse me, are you Sylvie Nichols?” she asked.
    Oh, crap. I stopped, took a breath and let it out—because somehow I knew this wasn’t going to be pretty.
    I turned. “Yes, that’s me. You must be Addison.” I slid the round tray under my arm, wiped my palm on my thigh to dry it off, strode forward and held out my hand. “It’s nice to meet you, finally.”
    She stared down at my hand as if it were something sticky—and a terrible inconvenience to lift her own—then reluctantly, she shook mine.
    “Uh huh,” she murmured in a cool tone while her brown eyes roamed over my face. “I figured it was time.”
    “Great,” I replied, hoping she was there to consider offering a green light for Derek to introduce me to his children. It made sense, in my opinion, because I could turn out to be their stepmother someday. Wouldn’t it be best to ease them into it?
    “I just have to deliver these orders to the kitchen,” I said. “Would you like to have a seat at one of the tables or at the bar?”
    She shook her head. “No, I won’t be staying.”
    “Oh…. Well…just give me a second…”
    A rush of nervous butterflies invaded my belly as I passed on the orders to Malcolm, out back. Before I returned, I hurried into the staff washroom to check my hair and make sure my mascara wasn’t flaking under my eyes. I looked all right, so I prepared myself for whatever she wanted to ask me.
    Addison was still standing in the same spot, adjacent to the bar, checking her text messages as I approached.
    “So,” I said lightly, “what can I do for you?” Her eyes slowly lifted so I forged on.
    “Would you like a drink or something? My treat. Soda pop? Coffee? Tea? A glass of wine?”
    She chucked bitterly. “No, thanks. I’m just here to ask you to stop badgering Derek about meeting my kids.”
    “Badgering him…” I paused. “They’re his children, too.”
    “You’re right, they are, and he doesn’t want you to meet them. So you’re stepping over the line every time you put pressure on him. You’re not a parent. You don’t know what it’s like.”
    It felt as if she’d just tossed a glass of ice cold water in my face. “I know more than you think,” I replied testily. “But if you don’t want your kids to meet me, that’s fine. I’ll respect that, but eventually you’re both going to have to let them