Shay - Delphine AU | Part 18* (Rough Draft)
Could Shay and Delphine have been a thing in a different universe?
Prev: 1-5 (edited), 6-8, 9*, 10*, 11*, 12*, 13*, 14*, 15*, 16*, 17*, 18*
Saturday proved a long day of searching and printing and collating and reading and providing additional commentary and follow-up clarifications. Like the use of identification numbers in lieu of redacted names. Or the different types of medications that had failed. Or the lengths of time between stages of Jennifer's illness. It was, Delphine reflected, somewhat dismaying that it required, really, only a day to cover the material DYAD had amassed on the illness itself.
Of the extra-medical material, the hours of Jennifer's video diary they possessed on hand, Delphine made no mention. To allude to them would necessitate producing them. And therein lay questions Delphine didn't feel prepared to address. Including the presence of Greg. Delphine felt the inevitable comparisons could wait.
They ordered in a late lunch, then broke for dinner and called it a night.
Sunday found Delphine at home, keeping house, running errands, doing laundry, picking up dry cleaning, and stocking a modest pantry. A message from Cosima interrupted the afternoon with an inquiry regarding any plans to head into the lab. Delphine informed Cosima she would be in the next day, ready for her questions. An altogether different missive arrived from Shay the same day: a photograph of a laptop screen displaying a film title, "Pride & Prejudice." This is what u'd be asking for.
Delphine smiled. Higher quality than I expected.
Casting aspersions on my tastes?, Shay demanded.
Delphine chuckled and let the question go unanswered.
Monday continued her and Cosima's Saturday efforts. They holed up in the lab, the lone two of them, the hours marked by shifts in their seating arrangements in relation to one another. Sometimes they huddled nearly knee-to-knee, leaning forward bent at the waist in close conference, or pressed into the back of the chairs with frustration or resignation or exhausted patience. Other times Cosima sprawled with outflung limbs upon the couch or the single-seater, like a house dog or cat disparaging the capricious whims of human notions of furniture, tossing out questions to Delphine across the room.
Their interaction was . . . better. The sniping reared up less, but the tension had yet to dissipate. Delphine sensed it lurking, one misconstrued comment away from being sprung. Where remarking upon the available resources of a multinational corporation invited the observation that it took a multinational to devise and maintain a nefarious undertaking of this magnitude.
For the most part Delphine let such moments slip, uncontested, unacknowledged. Cosima's anger was a sore she kept inviting Delphine to prod and Delphine wanted no part of nudging that growling beast.
Tuesday saw Cosima arrive well into the afternoon. Concern manifested first in Delphine. She surveyed Cosima for signs of fever or pallor, discomfort and aches, sweat or dehydration, but Cosima strolled through the door casually and easily, a flush of color in her cheeks, but likely for the same reason she was bundled up in layers, looking well-rested enough that there was a good chance she'd woken at noon.
"Question," Cosima prefaced grandly. Delphine raised an eyebrow at her. "Do you have a car?"
"Pardon?"
"Vehicle. Automobile. Personal conveyance mechanism."
Delphine held up a hand to stall Cosima. "Yes, yes, but why are you asking?"
"I thought about what you said the other day," Cosima said, plopping into a chair, swaddled in coat, bags, and all, "about looking into getting my own accommodations. I did a little research and I thought we could scope out a few places."
"I remember suggesting HR could help you," Delphine said warily.
"And I remember presenting why I'm against that," Cosima said. Her hands orchestrated thoughts through the air. "Anyway, I thought, seeing as how you're my monitor, that you'd like to see the places I might consider making my home."
"You want to go look . . . now?" Delphine asked.
"It's as good a time as any, right?" Cosima fired back. "Unless you're sitting on a breakthrough."
"No, but--"
"I figure," Cosima interjected, "the sooner I take care of this, the sooner I'll have less to worry about and the better I can focus on," she waved a hand about, "all of this."
Cosima studied Delphine pointedly. Delphine resisted an impulse to press a knuckle to her lips. Instead she crossed her arms, then crossed her legs, and leaned back in her seat in a test of the springs.
Cosima smiled. The effect was impish, mischievous, intimating hidden secrets and undivulged motives.
Not an expression transposed from Jennifer.
Delphine pushed back the mass of her hair with a hand. She imagined Aldous assessing the situation.
Make friends. Make nice.
Make like a monitor.
"How many places are you considering?"
*
Five.
That was the number of Internet-vetted vacancies to which Cosima had whittled her list. For the time being. She hadn't, she confessed, contacted the respective landlords yet to secure unit viewings. She simply wanted to get an idea of the lay of the land. If they could score a walk through at any promising property, all the better, but she wasn't too concerned on that front. She even wondered, from the leathery coziness of Delphine's passenger seat, if Delphine knew of any prospects, perhaps a place for rent in her own complex.
Delphine demurred.
(In a similar reaching manner, Cosima had stood beside Delphine's car in the parking garage and given it a long assessment. One side of her mouth had quirked up: "Maybe I should think about investing in a ride, too.")
Cosima also insisted on playing navigator. She wouldn't disclose the exact locations or the names of developments, but directed by means of programming the address into her smartphone, despite the fact that the car featured onboard navigation. The stilted, but still pleasant artificial voice of Siri snaked them around the city from one point to another, course correcting as needed--which was more often than Delphine considered efficient. It quickly became apparent that the actual task of minding directions didn't impress much of a sense of duty upon Cosima. She didn't warn of upcoming turns or indicate which lane would best serve them. She barely glanced at her phone. Not when the passing view held her rapt.
A panorama rendered more varied and comprehensive, Delphine realized, by the additional turns and unforeseen detours.
Cosima twisted, craned, and panned in her seat to catch sight of every landmark, storefront, and distinction. Her absorption in taking in the city led Delphine to wonder if that had been the primary motive in her prospective options--and the order in which they were visiting them. Because otherwise Delphine could find little to tie the properties together aside from the fact that there were rooms to let. Geologically they were far-flung from one another and would not have formed a cross-section at the DYAD on a map. One was so modern and sleek as to give Delphine the impression that the paint had only just dried. The second building was dated enough that Delphine doubted it was fitted with central heating.
By the time they were en route to the fourth place on Cosima's list, Delphine accepted the venture as Cosima's excuse to see the city. The thought buoyed Delphine. It lent the outing a sense of accomplishment, that the trek and trouble yielded something of substance and gain. Delphine had never seen so much of the terrain herself.
Maybe that was why the growing familiarity of the scenery penetrated Delphine's mindless compliance to Siri's instructions with delayed recognition. Soon Delphine was reassuring herself that the destination merely required them to travel through the neighborhood. When a series of turns yielded distinctive street names, Delphine determined to herself they were heading somewhere proximal to her knowledge.
"I think that's going to be it up there on the right," Cosima said, pointing helpfully. "I'll keep an eye out for an open parking spot."
Delphine fixed her gaze ahead, as if by refusing to look at where Cosima indicated she could deny substantiation to the crystallizing reality marked by Siri's placid countdown of the diminishing distance until their arrival at their destination.
"You have passed your destination," Siri announced as Delphine continued to roll down the street. "Recalculating. In twenty-five feet, turn right."
But Delphine didn't.
She had no desire to circle back to Shay's apartment complex.
*
Delphine did circle back. Because to drive on with resolute disregard was more suspect than to capitulate to the demands of an unfeeling, unrelenting app. Disobedience would require unnecessary explanations when in all likelihood Cosima would exhibit no more interest in residing in that particular building than she had in any previous prospect.
Delphine tried not to rush the inspection, to quicken her pace to force Cosima to match step. She passed a desultory eye over the building's facade, as if it looked like any other building on any other street in any other sector of the city. She trailed behind Cosima as they gained the halls where Delphine studiously ignored one particular door on the first floor. When a peek into the main office revealed no one in attendance, Delphine smothered her impatience to usher Cosima on.
It worked.
They were in and out within fifteen minutes. Quick, perfunctory, efficient, witness to hardly anything of interest.
Relief lightened Delphine's step. She and Cosima would go back to the car, proceed to the last stop, perhaps return to the lab or even to Cosima's temporary lodgings, if Cosima's caginess didn't extend to concealing its whereabouts.
The figure that materialized on the sidewalk obliterated that fantasy.
Shay, bearing a reusable tote of groceries, smiled immediately upon seeing Delphine. "Hey! I thought that was your car I saw back there, but you didn't text or call so I wasn't sure."
Cosima, hands shoved deep into the pockets of her startlingly red coat--not unlike the red of the nail polish Shay had smeared upon Delphine's finger--and strolling lackadaisically ahead of Delphine, pivoted on a heel to glean Delphine's expression. Delphine knew what she was looking for: recognition, acknowledgement, familiarity.
All of which must have shone plain upon Delphine's face.
With piqued interest, Cosima fixed her attention on Shay, who glanced warily at her, as if just noticing her existence or, more probable, making the connection that she was affiliated with Delphine. Cosima flashed Shay a smile, eager and winning.
Uncertainty bled into confusion on Shay's face. Delphine could see Shay measuring the situation, reconsidering her approach, wondering if she'd misstepped.
Delphine summoned a feeble smile. To reassure her friend.
"I didn't know I was coming," Delphine told Shay. She closed the distance between them to prevent them having to raise their voices. Cosima followed her lead, at a slower pace, shuffling forward in smaller steps. Delphine's words brought a different sort of puzzlement to Shay's eyes--and belatedly Delphine realized she'd given that explanation once before under very different circumstances. She rushed to clarify. "I was driving and following directions and--I didn't know this was where we were going." The "we" hung in the air. Delphine held out an arm to indicate Cosima. "Shay, this is Cosima. We work together. Cosima, this is Shay."
Cosima's hand shot out, ready. "Nice to meet you."
Shay shifted her bag to her left hand to shake Cosima's with her right. The two assessed one another and for the life of her Delphine could not guess at what went through either's mind.
"Nice to meet you," Shay echoed. She glanced at Delphine. "What brings you here?"
Cosima indicated the apartment complex behind them with a jerk of her thumb. "We were looking into vacancies here. I just moved to the city and I'm looking for a place."
Shay smiled, polite but guarded. "Did Delphine tell you about it?"
"No," Cosima crooned, sparing a sideways look for Delphine that sent her dreadlocks shivering, "she didn't. Though I guess, to be fair, I didn't ask her." Cosima considered Shay. "Do you live here?"
Shay nodded. "I do."
"Do you like it?" Cosima asked.
"I do," repeated Shay, with more ease. "It's actually a converted public building, so all the units are a little different. I think I lucked out getting mine. But if you're looking for a place to live, I can tell you the neighborhood is quiet and pretty safe. There isn't a garage for residents, though, so it can be a hassle sometimes to find a place nearby to park."
Delphine, listening, wished she could have curbed the enthusiasm of Shay's endorsement of the establishment.
Shay added more measuredly, "Also the rent is . . . a little steep. Especially if you don't have a roommate."
"Do you have a roommate?" Cosima asked.
Shay's answering smile held a self-deprecating laugh. "I don't."
Cosima grinned. "Are you looking for one?"
Shay laughed. Not in a polite way, but in a pleasantly startled manner. "No, I'm not. But," she glanced again at Delphine, "if you work with Delphine, I'm not sure you'll need one."
Cosima followed Shay's line of sight, catching Delphine's eyes. "Yeah?"
"Just a guess," Shay said.
Delphine cleared her throat. "There was one other place you wanted to see, yes, Cosima?"
"Yeah, there's one more," Cosima confirmed. In an act of small mercies, Cosima took Delphine's hint. Then she said, "But, um--Shay, right? Would it be cool if we exchanged numbers or email addresses so I can contact you if I have any questions about this place? I mean, if it's not any trouble."
Shay hesitated, the request catching her by surprise, but recovered with a fluid reach into her bag. She took out a card and held it out to Cosima. "This is my business card. You can reach me at the email address there."
Cosima took the card and held it between her hands. All the while her eyes didn't stray from Shay's face and her lips bore a faint smile. "Thank you."
"Shall we go?" Delphine asked softly.
"It was nice to meet you," Shay said to Cosima, grasping the baton Delphine had flung out.
"Likewise," Cosima said. "I'm glad we ran into each other."
Shay smiled, tight-lipped, and cast a quizzical look at Delphine.
"Some other time," Delphine said, checking any habitual apologies for not being able to linger. She capped her curt words with a smile that she hoped was conciliatory.
Shay's eyes lingered on Delphine, gauging, and when Delphine made no move toward her, Shay nodded. Goodbyes were exchanged and Delphine and Cosima resumed their way.
Focusing on gaining the car, Delphine smothered a touch of unease. The ordeal had been kept brief and summary but Delphine couldn't help but feel that the damage was done.
*
"Massage therapist," Cosima said aloud in the car, after having spent some minutes examining the business card of one Shay Davydov, RMT. It was an observation, declaration, and question rolled into two words awaiting elaboration.
But Cosima said nothing more and Delphine made no overture at volunteering.
Cosima tapped the card against her palm and peered out the windows.
"Seemed like a nice place," Cosima remarked idly.
Within a week, she'd taken out a monthly lease.
//
Next
Prev: 1-5 (edited), 6-8, 9*, 10*, 11*, 12*, 13*, 14*, 15*, 16*, 17*, 18*
Saturday proved a long day of searching and printing and collating and reading and providing additional commentary and follow-up clarifications. Like the use of identification numbers in lieu of redacted names. Or the different types of medications that had failed. Or the lengths of time between stages of Jennifer's illness. It was, Delphine reflected, somewhat dismaying that it required, really, only a day to cover the material DYAD had amassed on the illness itself.
Of the extra-medical material, the hours of Jennifer's video diary they possessed on hand, Delphine made no mention. To allude to them would necessitate producing them. And therein lay questions Delphine didn't feel prepared to address. Including the presence of Greg. Delphine felt the inevitable comparisons could wait.
They ordered in a late lunch, then broke for dinner and called it a night.
Sunday found Delphine at home, keeping house, running errands, doing laundry, picking up dry cleaning, and stocking a modest pantry. A message from Cosima interrupted the afternoon with an inquiry regarding any plans to head into the lab. Delphine informed Cosima she would be in the next day, ready for her questions. An altogether different missive arrived from Shay the same day: a photograph of a laptop screen displaying a film title, "Pride & Prejudice." This is what u'd be asking for.
Delphine smiled. Higher quality than I expected.
Casting aspersions on my tastes?, Shay demanded.
Delphine chuckled and let the question go unanswered.
Monday continued her and Cosima's Saturday efforts. They holed up in the lab, the lone two of them, the hours marked by shifts in their seating arrangements in relation to one another. Sometimes they huddled nearly knee-to-knee, leaning forward bent at the waist in close conference, or pressed into the back of the chairs with frustration or resignation or exhausted patience. Other times Cosima sprawled with outflung limbs upon the couch or the single-seater, like a house dog or cat disparaging the capricious whims of human notions of furniture, tossing out questions to Delphine across the room.
Their interaction was . . . better. The sniping reared up less, but the tension had yet to dissipate. Delphine sensed it lurking, one misconstrued comment away from being sprung. Where remarking upon the available resources of a multinational corporation invited the observation that it took a multinational to devise and maintain a nefarious undertaking of this magnitude.
For the most part Delphine let such moments slip, uncontested, unacknowledged. Cosima's anger was a sore she kept inviting Delphine to prod and Delphine wanted no part of nudging that growling beast.
Tuesday saw Cosima arrive well into the afternoon. Concern manifested first in Delphine. She surveyed Cosima for signs of fever or pallor, discomfort and aches, sweat or dehydration, but Cosima strolled through the door casually and easily, a flush of color in her cheeks, but likely for the same reason she was bundled up in layers, looking well-rested enough that there was a good chance she'd woken at noon.
"Question," Cosima prefaced grandly. Delphine raised an eyebrow at her. "Do you have a car?"
"Pardon?"
"Vehicle. Automobile. Personal conveyance mechanism."
Delphine held up a hand to stall Cosima. "Yes, yes, but why are you asking?"
"I thought about what you said the other day," Cosima said, plopping into a chair, swaddled in coat, bags, and all, "about looking into getting my own accommodations. I did a little research and I thought we could scope out a few places."
"I remember suggesting HR could help you," Delphine said warily.
"And I remember presenting why I'm against that," Cosima said. Her hands orchestrated thoughts through the air. "Anyway, I thought, seeing as how you're my monitor, that you'd like to see the places I might consider making my home."
"You want to go look . . . now?" Delphine asked.
"It's as good a time as any, right?" Cosima fired back. "Unless you're sitting on a breakthrough."
"No, but--"
"I figure," Cosima interjected, "the sooner I take care of this, the sooner I'll have less to worry about and the better I can focus on," she waved a hand about, "all of this."
Cosima studied Delphine pointedly. Delphine resisted an impulse to press a knuckle to her lips. Instead she crossed her arms, then crossed her legs, and leaned back in her seat in a test of the springs.
Cosima smiled. The effect was impish, mischievous, intimating hidden secrets and undivulged motives.
Not an expression transposed from Jennifer.
Delphine pushed back the mass of her hair with a hand. She imagined Aldous assessing the situation.
Make friends. Make nice.
Make like a monitor.
"How many places are you considering?"
*
Five.
That was the number of Internet-vetted vacancies to which Cosima had whittled her list. For the time being. She hadn't, she confessed, contacted the respective landlords yet to secure unit viewings. She simply wanted to get an idea of the lay of the land. If they could score a walk through at any promising property, all the better, but she wasn't too concerned on that front. She even wondered, from the leathery coziness of Delphine's passenger seat, if Delphine knew of any prospects, perhaps a place for rent in her own complex.
Delphine demurred.
(In a similar reaching manner, Cosima had stood beside Delphine's car in the parking garage and given it a long assessment. One side of her mouth had quirked up: "Maybe I should think about investing in a ride, too.")
Cosima also insisted on playing navigator. She wouldn't disclose the exact locations or the names of developments, but directed by means of programming the address into her smartphone, despite the fact that the car featured onboard navigation. The stilted, but still pleasant artificial voice of Siri snaked them around the city from one point to another, course correcting as needed--which was more often than Delphine considered efficient. It quickly became apparent that the actual task of minding directions didn't impress much of a sense of duty upon Cosima. She didn't warn of upcoming turns or indicate which lane would best serve them. She barely glanced at her phone. Not when the passing view held her rapt.
A panorama rendered more varied and comprehensive, Delphine realized, by the additional turns and unforeseen detours.
Cosima twisted, craned, and panned in her seat to catch sight of every landmark, storefront, and distinction. Her absorption in taking in the city led Delphine to wonder if that had been the primary motive in her prospective options--and the order in which they were visiting them. Because otherwise Delphine could find little to tie the properties together aside from the fact that there were rooms to let. Geologically they were far-flung from one another and would not have formed a cross-section at the DYAD on a map. One was so modern and sleek as to give Delphine the impression that the paint had only just dried. The second building was dated enough that Delphine doubted it was fitted with central heating.
By the time they were en route to the fourth place on Cosima's list, Delphine accepted the venture as Cosima's excuse to see the city. The thought buoyed Delphine. It lent the outing a sense of accomplishment, that the trek and trouble yielded something of substance and gain. Delphine had never seen so much of the terrain herself.
Maybe that was why the growing familiarity of the scenery penetrated Delphine's mindless compliance to Siri's instructions with delayed recognition. Soon Delphine was reassuring herself that the destination merely required them to travel through the neighborhood. When a series of turns yielded distinctive street names, Delphine determined to herself they were heading somewhere proximal to her knowledge.
"I think that's going to be it up there on the right," Cosima said, pointing helpfully. "I'll keep an eye out for an open parking spot."
Delphine fixed her gaze ahead, as if by refusing to look at where Cosima indicated she could deny substantiation to the crystallizing reality marked by Siri's placid countdown of the diminishing distance until their arrival at their destination.
"You have passed your destination," Siri announced as Delphine continued to roll down the street. "Recalculating. In twenty-five feet, turn right."
But Delphine didn't.
She had no desire to circle back to Shay's apartment complex.
*
Delphine did circle back. Because to drive on with resolute disregard was more suspect than to capitulate to the demands of an unfeeling, unrelenting app. Disobedience would require unnecessary explanations when in all likelihood Cosima would exhibit no more interest in residing in that particular building than she had in any previous prospect.
Delphine tried not to rush the inspection, to quicken her pace to force Cosima to match step. She passed a desultory eye over the building's facade, as if it looked like any other building on any other street in any other sector of the city. She trailed behind Cosima as they gained the halls where Delphine studiously ignored one particular door on the first floor. When a peek into the main office revealed no one in attendance, Delphine smothered her impatience to usher Cosima on.
It worked.
They were in and out within fifteen minutes. Quick, perfunctory, efficient, witness to hardly anything of interest.
Relief lightened Delphine's step. She and Cosima would go back to the car, proceed to the last stop, perhaps return to the lab or even to Cosima's temporary lodgings, if Cosima's caginess didn't extend to concealing its whereabouts.
The figure that materialized on the sidewalk obliterated that fantasy.
Shay, bearing a reusable tote of groceries, smiled immediately upon seeing Delphine. "Hey! I thought that was your car I saw back there, but you didn't text or call so I wasn't sure."
Cosima, hands shoved deep into the pockets of her startlingly red coat--not unlike the red of the nail polish Shay had smeared upon Delphine's finger--and strolling lackadaisically ahead of Delphine, pivoted on a heel to glean Delphine's expression. Delphine knew what she was looking for: recognition, acknowledgement, familiarity.
All of which must have shone plain upon Delphine's face.
With piqued interest, Cosima fixed her attention on Shay, who glanced warily at her, as if just noticing her existence or, more probable, making the connection that she was affiliated with Delphine. Cosima flashed Shay a smile, eager and winning.
Uncertainty bled into confusion on Shay's face. Delphine could see Shay measuring the situation, reconsidering her approach, wondering if she'd misstepped.
Delphine summoned a feeble smile. To reassure her friend.
"I didn't know I was coming," Delphine told Shay. She closed the distance between them to prevent them having to raise their voices. Cosima followed her lead, at a slower pace, shuffling forward in smaller steps. Delphine's words brought a different sort of puzzlement to Shay's eyes--and belatedly Delphine realized she'd given that explanation once before under very different circumstances. She rushed to clarify. "I was driving and following directions and--I didn't know this was where we were going." The "we" hung in the air. Delphine held out an arm to indicate Cosima. "Shay, this is Cosima. We work together. Cosima, this is Shay."
Cosima's hand shot out, ready. "Nice to meet you."
Shay shifted her bag to her left hand to shake Cosima's with her right. The two assessed one another and for the life of her Delphine could not guess at what went through either's mind.
"Nice to meet you," Shay echoed. She glanced at Delphine. "What brings you here?"
Cosima indicated the apartment complex behind them with a jerk of her thumb. "We were looking into vacancies here. I just moved to the city and I'm looking for a place."
Shay smiled, polite but guarded. "Did Delphine tell you about it?"
"No," Cosima crooned, sparing a sideways look for Delphine that sent her dreadlocks shivering, "she didn't. Though I guess, to be fair, I didn't ask her." Cosima considered Shay. "Do you live here?"
Shay nodded. "I do."
"Do you like it?" Cosima asked.
"I do," repeated Shay, with more ease. "It's actually a converted public building, so all the units are a little different. I think I lucked out getting mine. But if you're looking for a place to live, I can tell you the neighborhood is quiet and pretty safe. There isn't a garage for residents, though, so it can be a hassle sometimes to find a place nearby to park."
Delphine, listening, wished she could have curbed the enthusiasm of Shay's endorsement of the establishment.
Shay added more measuredly, "Also the rent is . . . a little steep. Especially if you don't have a roommate."
"Do you have a roommate?" Cosima asked.
Shay's answering smile held a self-deprecating laugh. "I don't."
Cosima grinned. "Are you looking for one?"
Shay laughed. Not in a polite way, but in a pleasantly startled manner. "No, I'm not. But," she glanced again at Delphine, "if you work with Delphine, I'm not sure you'll need one."
Cosima followed Shay's line of sight, catching Delphine's eyes. "Yeah?"
"Just a guess," Shay said.
Delphine cleared her throat. "There was one other place you wanted to see, yes, Cosima?"
"Yeah, there's one more," Cosima confirmed. In an act of small mercies, Cosima took Delphine's hint. Then she said, "But, um--Shay, right? Would it be cool if we exchanged numbers or email addresses so I can contact you if I have any questions about this place? I mean, if it's not any trouble."
Shay hesitated, the request catching her by surprise, but recovered with a fluid reach into her bag. She took out a card and held it out to Cosima. "This is my business card. You can reach me at the email address there."
Cosima took the card and held it between her hands. All the while her eyes didn't stray from Shay's face and her lips bore a faint smile. "Thank you."
"Shall we go?" Delphine asked softly.
"It was nice to meet you," Shay said to Cosima, grasping the baton Delphine had flung out.
"Likewise," Cosima said. "I'm glad we ran into each other."
Shay smiled, tight-lipped, and cast a quizzical look at Delphine.
"Some other time," Delphine said, checking any habitual apologies for not being able to linger. She capped her curt words with a smile that she hoped was conciliatory.
Shay's eyes lingered on Delphine, gauging, and when Delphine made no move toward her, Shay nodded. Goodbyes were exchanged and Delphine and Cosima resumed their way.
Focusing on gaining the car, Delphine smothered a touch of unease. The ordeal had been kept brief and summary but Delphine couldn't help but feel that the damage was done.
*
"Massage therapist," Cosima said aloud in the car, after having spent some minutes examining the business card of one Shay Davydov, RMT. It was an observation, declaration, and question rolled into two words awaiting elaboration.
But Cosima said nothing more and Delphine made no overture at volunteering.
Cosima tapped the card against her palm and peered out the windows.
"Seemed like a nice place," Cosima remarked idly.
Within a week, she'd taken out a monthly lease.
//
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