Midway through breakfast, Trent appeared at the empty chair beside Malcolm. Mind if I sit here a minute? My seat's been taken by Clare's college friend, and I don't want to be rude about it. Malcolm gestured to the chair. "Go ahead."
Trent sat, poured himself coffee, did not look at Vanessa, who was engaged with her mother at the other end. When Malcolm noticed he wasn't looking at Vanessa, he understood that was deliberate. "She's doing well," Trent said. Conversational, easy, Vanessa. She seems genuinely good.
She is, Malcolm said. She was when we were together. She was always so driven that it was hard to see past it to the person underneath. Trent said it thoughtfully like he was confiding something. It sounds like she lets you in, past the work part.
Malcolm looked at him, measured the question, saw exactly what it was. She does, he said simply. That's good. Trent nodded, sipped his coffee. She deserves someone who can see that version of her.
She does, Malcolm said again. Trent paused. Then how'd you meet, if you don't mind me asking? We worked together. Ah, office romance.
A slight smile. How long before? Before what? Malcolm asked. His voice was mild.
Completely mild. Trent recalibrated almost invisibly. Before you knew it was serious. Malcolm looked across the table at Vanessa, who was laughing at something her mother had just said. A real laugh, sudden and unguarded, tipping her head back slightly.
He looked at her the way he'd learned to look at clients when they needed to feel believed. Except this time it required no calculation. I knew before I should have, he said. Trent followed his gaze. Something shifted in the other man's face.
Something that moved through the performance and touched whatever was underneath it. He watched Vanessa laugh, watched her lean toward her mother, watched her be for a moment entirely unbuttoned from herself. Then he looked back at Malcolm, and for the first time since they'd met, the smoothness was slightly less smooth. "Good," Trent said. His voice was still controlled, but something in it had moved.
"That's good," he stood. "I should get back." He picked up his coffee. "It was good to talk, Malcolm." "You, too," Malcolm said.