Champagne Cravings (11 page)

No, I didn’t immediately jump to the conclusion that Mike
was in love with me. He’d simply used a very standard sign-off not uncommon
amongst friends.

It was the word itself—the blatant intimacy of it—that threw
me. I sank onto the lid of the toilet and inhaled deeply to steady myself.

I didn’t freak out or overanalyze any implied meaning. I
forced myself to focus on the fact that Mike and I were close friends and he
felt comfortable enough to be this personal with me. The things he’d said
recently, and the way he acted toward me, were significant unto themselves. Yet
I’d been so wrapped up in my insecurities and fears that something hadn’t quite
registered in my head until I’d seen how easily he could make our association
feel special and familiar. Substantial, though not so overwhelming I constantly
panicked.

Yes, it was good that he pushed my buttons from time to
time. It was good that he backed me into a corner every now and then.
Otherwise, I’d remain stagnate.

Instinctively, I believed he knew all of this…that he knew
me a little better than I knew myself. Because he watched me, he listened to
me, he learned from my past experiences…and tried to make the future ones
better.

He was a tried and true friend, as I’d known all along. But
he was much more than that to me and I was suddenly desperate to find a way to
embrace that fact—and to be more to
him
. To give him more of what he
needed—my trust.

I had additional transcripts to wade through this afternoon,
but found myself shuffling off to the living room where Mike had left my purse.
I dug out my cell and hit the speed dial number for Biel, who’d programmed it
into my phone around three a.m.

“Hey, it’s Lacey,” I said when she picked up.

“I know, silly. I took a photo of you last night when I
added you to my contacts.”

“Right. So, I was wondering…I know this is a horrific
imposition, but can you spare a few minutes today to meet with me?”

Her laugh was dainty, for which I was grateful, because my
temple throbbed from my hangover. “Of course. I’d love some company to distract
me from rearranging the entire apartment to spite Piper when she finally comes
to her senses. Come on over.”

She gave me her Park Avenue address and told me she’d leave
my name with the security guards in her lobby.

I threw on my day-old clothes and went next door to shower
and change into jeans and a white Oxford. I pulled my hair back in a high
ponytail, applied a little makeup with crimson lipstick and headed out the
door. I sent Mike a text, brazenly asking him out on a date for later that
evening. Dinner and a movie. God bless him, he immediately accepted, rather
than leaving me in a state of agonized anticipation.

When I arrived at Biel’s, having gone through three layers
of security, I found her looking just as fresh and perky and fashionable as
ever in a sleeveless dress and heels. The shimmering, emerald material
complemented her green eyes and auburn hair. She looked radiant, though I
suspected that might be a guise. I had a feeling her breakup with Piper took a
toll on her, but she was strong enough to weather the storm. Precisely the
reason I’d sought her out today.

I handed over a bouquet of calla lilies and an expensive
bottle of chardonnay I’d picked up along the way. Her eyes lit up and I could
see she was clearly delighted—and pleasantly surprised—by the gifts.

“You didn’t have to bring me anything,” she said with a
tsking noise, though it was obvious she was glad I’d gone to the trouble for
her.

“Please, you insisted on paying for all the drinks last
night.”

She made another dismissive sound. “Oh, Lacey. Do you have
any idea how much money I make?”

Mav Linnear had lobbed out a figure when he’d told me Biel
was headlining his latest campaign, so yes, I had a very good idea. And
surmised she was quickly climbing her way up the
Forbes
list of
wealthiest women in the country. Oprah had some real competition here.

“Anyway,” I added as she gestured for me to step into her
spacious and opulent foyer, “I’m hijacking your afternoon.”

“Not at all. I was serious on the phone. Idle hands and all
that…” She looked duly flustered, but said, “Though I was going to take some
photos. Maybe you can help me with them.”

“Sure. But if I’m keeping you from a job—”

“Not a job,” she was quick to say. “I’m just practicing.”

We walked through the enormous double-framed entryway into
her elegant living room. The wide molding, the furniture and the dozens of
floral arrangements were all pristine white. The wood accent pieces were a rich
walnut, polished to a high sheen. And the floors were shiny, immaculate white
marble. The calla lilies had been an excellent choice. So too was Biel’s
jewel-toned dress. It was the perfect centerpiece in this room, no matter where
she stood.

“Give me just a sec,” she said before she ducked into what I
presumed was the kitchen, but couldn’t tell for sure because of the door that
closed it off.

When she returned, she had the flowers in a tall, slim
cylinder made of cut crystal. She set the arrangement on an end table beneath a
glowing chandelier. The soft illumination caught the intricate design of the
vase, creating a spectrum of colors that danced under the sparkling light.

I said, “You’re an amazing decorator.”

“How’d you know I decorated the apartment?”

I shrugged. “It’s so you. Who else could have pulled it off
so perfectly?”

She beamed as she lifted a digital camera from another table
and snapped a few shots of the calla lilies basking in all their delicate, yet
sophisticated glory.

Then she crossed the room to show me the photos on the
screen.

“Seriously,” I said in a mocking tone. “Do you have to be
good at
everything
you do?”

She swatted playfully at me. “Stop. I suck at a lot of
things. You just don’t know me well enough yet. So don’t be surprised I ordered
hors d’oeuvres for this afternoon—I can’t cook worth a damn, or even slap
together a decent-looking veggie tray. The food should arrive any minute. Shall
we crack open the bottle of wine?”

“Absolutely. I’m going to need it when I tell you why I
wanted to see you.”

She shot me a coy smile over her shoulder as she swayed her
shapely hips toward the wet bar where she’d left the wine. “You changed your
mind about me?”

I laughed. “Sorry, still straight. And you’re still in love
with Piper.”

The corners of her mouth dipped for a split second. “Yes, I
am.”

“Has she called?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact. To tell me she loves me.”

“But she’s still in LA?” I asked, incredulous, though I
really shouldn’t be so shocked—I ran at the first sign of trouble too. That
being one of the reasons I’d come for Biel’s counsel.

“Needs to sort things out, she says.” Biel pulled the cork
on the wine and splashed some into what I was certain were Baccarat crystal
glasses. Handing one over, she said, “Call me naive and simplistic, but love
shouldn’t be so melodramatic. I mean, if you really care about someone, why
would you purposely put them through hell? Sure, every relationship has its ups
and down that naturally come with two people trying to be simpatico with each
other. But why specifically
create
the emotional roller coaster?”

“Wow,” I said after taking a sip. “That’s neither naive nor
simplistic. In fact, if there were written laws about love, that would have to
be number one.”

The doorbell rang and she set her glass on the wet bar.
“Excuse me.” She rushed out of the room, only to return a minute later with the
catering staff, who quickly and expertly set up a buffet for us, complete with
white linen napkins, appetizer plates and elegant silverware. They added a
silver chiller with a bottle of champagne nestled in it. Biel signed for the
lovely spread and the staff saw their way out.

“Help yourself,” she said to me. “Please.”

I realized I hadn’t eaten anything since Mike’s bagel
delivery the previous morning and was famished. I’d been too distracted by my
evolving life to notice.

I added chopped, smoked chicken on top of triangular pieces
of iceberg to a plate, along with tuna nicoise crostini, crab salad canapes and
endive boats filled with julienne, marinated vegetables. Much to my surprise, Biel
loaded up a plate as well. You had to respect a supermodel who didn’t fear
food.

We collected our wineglasses and sat on one of the many
white sofas scattered throughout the room.

“You have a point with what you said earlier,” I told her.
“About love. But people do create melodrama and they do hurt others, sometimes
to keep from getting hurt themselves.”

“I get that,” Biel said. “I mean, I’ve lived with that very
concept with Piper for five years. What I’m saying is, if I gave her no reason
for the first four years of our relationship to doubt me or feel I’d hurt her,
why’d she suddenly go off the deep end in year five? Seriously, I literally
cannot even remember why she left me the first time, but she started this
argument about something completely irrelevant and then just threw her hands up
in the air and walked out.
Moved
out.” She bit into a crostini and
chewed vigorously, then said, “Who does that? Like what we had meant so little
to her she could just throw a few barbs and then go back to Hollywood?”

This choked her up. She set her plate on the coffee table
and reached for her wine. After a few sips, she seemed to fight back tears and
squared her shoulders again.

“Until six months ago,” she continued, “when I got pissed
off at Piper for screwing with me, I never gave her a reason to doubt how much
I loved her. I swear,” Biel said with conviction in her eyes. “I lavished her
with gifts. I told her every day how much she meant to me. I made her laugh. I
listened to every word she had to say and I shared with her everything I felt
and everything I wanted for our future. And what?” Biel asked with a shrug.
“Did I just make it too easy for her?”

That was a very interesting angle coming from her. If
anything, one would think Piper would have gone to the ends of the earth to
stay with someone like Biel. But maybe she had a point…

“Did you ever insist she return the favor?” I asked,
treading on territory that wasn’t just personal for her, but for me as well.
“Did you ask her to tell you exactly how she felt about you and what she wanted
for your future together as a couple?”

Biel shook her head. “No, she doesn’t like to talk about her
feelings. She’ll tell me about her day or something kooky or upsetting about a
job, but she never really says what’s on her mind when it comes to me. Except,
of course, when she’s jealous. Then—
look out
! She has plenty to say.”

She was quiet a moment as I digested this. Then Biel asked,
“Aren’t I boring you with all of this? Why on earth would you want to hear
about me and Piper?”

“Because I’m Piper,” I admitted in a low voice. “And like
you, Mike deserves so much more.”

“Ah, the super-hunk.” She took another drink, then said,
“Your eyes light up when you mention him. But I’m sure everyone tells you
that.”

“Actually, I never talk about him,” I told her. “We’ve been
friends for a long time and just recently ventured into…different territory.”

She seemed to get my drift. “So, if in fact you are like
Piper, what’s your reason for keeping him at arm’s length?”

I cleared my throat as I put my plate next to hers. “The
thing is, I don’t know how to tell him how I feel about him. Or to tell him how
he makes
me
feel. I can connect with him sexually, that clearly is not
an issue for us. But the emotional intimacy…” I shook my head. “I can’t seem to
step off the cliff and tell him how absolutely nuts I am about him, despite the
fact he himself jumped without a chute. It’s selfish and I need to…
not
be.”

Biel stared at me, the supermodel now the one to wear the
incredulous look on her face. Finally, she recovered enough to ask, “And you
came here for advice?”

I nodded. “At twenty-one, you are so much smarter about love
than I am.”

“Well, I’ve been in a committed relationship since I was
sixteen.”

“And my first real relationship was when I was twenty-five
and I’d just moved here. Back-to-back, I fell for two guys who were all bad and
wrong for me. Both of whom completely devastated me.”

“So you’re scared. Christ, Lacey, who isn’t? Even I’ve got
relationship jitters. I’m just saying, why torment someone you supposedly care
about—who cares about
you
?”

“You’re right. You’re exactly right,” I insisted, feeling
two feet tall for being the villain, especially when she was being victimized
in her own relationship. But the truth was, when it came to Mike, I wasn’t
trying to be a control freak. I was trying to be smart. That, of course, did
not excuse the fact that he had said some very personal things and I had not
fully reciprocated.

I sipped my wine, then told her, “I don’t know how to tell
Mike how I feel about him. He’s so wonderful and he… He should be with a woman
who tells him that every single day.”

Unexpectedly, tears pooled in my eyes and I couldn’t hold
them back. They crested the rims and slid down my cheeks as I continuously
brushed them away.

Biel shot to her feet and said, “I have an idea.”

“Okay,” I muttered in a tentative voice that made her laugh
as I sniffled.

“You came to me, remember?”

“Yes. Right.” I used my napkin to dab at the rest of the
water on my skin. “What’s your plan?”

Never Judge This Supermodel by Her Cover. Ev-ah.

Biel opened a cabinet door at the bottom of one of the many
bookcases and pulled out another digital camera.

She snapped a few test shots of the living room, apparently
checking the lighting and background. Then she said, “You need to do more than
experience your feelings for Mike. You need to
see
them.”

This time, I didn’t quite get where she was coming from.
“Wanna explain that?”

“Sure,” she said in her casual tone. “It’s like what I was
saying earlier, when I told you your eyes light up when you mention Mike. You
have no idea how much your expression reveals. When you talk about him, you
don’t really have to tell me you’re nuts about him. I can see it. And I bet he
can too, which is totally a step in the right direction. But maybe,” she said
as she clicked off several shots, “you need to see it for yourself.”

I really should hate her for being so freakin’ brilliant on
top of being so beautiful, but I couldn’t. She was just too damn wonderful.

“Mike said the same thing, about being able to read how much
I want him in my expressions. But that’s not actually
telling
him how I
feel. That’s just him seeing that I’ve lusted after him for three years.” With
a nod, I added, “You actually have a really great idea.”

“I know, right?” she gave me one of her sassy smirks that
wasn’t the least bit smug.

What
I
saw in Biel’s expression was the desire to
pull from Piper what she was about to attempt to pull from me. And if Biel
believed this was a way she could have a better understanding of her partner’s
feelings and wanted me to employ the tactic before my actions truly did reflect
Piper’s, I was more than willing to experiment.

“So what do I do?” I asked. “I’m not particularly
photogenic.”

“I beg to differ.” She showed me the images she’d candidly
shot. “Not bad, huh?”

I was pleasantly surprised. “You have a gift.”

“Just be yourself. Talk. Tell me what’s so special about
this guy.”

With a dreamy sigh I couldn’t contain if I’d tried, I
admitted, “Everything.” But that was the easy, simple answer. So I stood and
did some pacing as I mulled over my truest, deepest, darkest feelings. Then I
pulled the band from my ponytail and fluffed my hair as Biel snapped her shots.
I wandered the living room, letting my emotions take over.

Biel didn’t prompt me further, instead allowing me the
opportunity to really dig into her “assignment”.

Finally, I said, “When I first came to New York, I was
determined to not be the person I’d been in Phoenix. Not that I disliked
myself, but I’d turned out to be a bit of a pushover. I’d vowed to not let
anything or anyone railroad me again. I immersed myself in corporate fraud and
abuse, learning everything I could about the field. Oddly, I’d felt compelled
to focus primarily on my career, rather than my personal relationships because
I thought I had the latter under control. Turns out, my career came along
nicely. It was my love life that sucked.”

I trailed my fingers over the back of a sofa I strolled
behind as I continued. “The day I met Mike, my boyfriend of nearly a year,
Brandon, had a ménage at a wedding in which I was the maid of honor. I’d caught
him in the act and was utterly speechless and totally heartbroken—and mortified
because many other guests witnessed the debauchery and word spread like wildfire
at the reception. Mike happened to come around the corner as I stood there in
shock and he put two and two together. Then he punched Brandon in the face.”

“What a guy,” Biel said with a grin.

“Yeah, well, he did more than break Brandon’s nose. He took
me by the arm and pulled me out of there. Fast. He grabbed a cab that dropped
us off at a lively Irish pub. I was still shell-shocked. I literally could not
form a coherent thought in my head or say a single word. He sat me at the bar,
wiped the tears from my face with a napkin and told me, ‘We’re going to get
drunk here where nobody knows us and no one knows what just happened to you.’
And we did.”

I smiled at the memory. It’d been bold of him to whisk me
away like that, since we’d only just met at the wedding. But had I stayed, the
humiliation and pain would have swallowed me whole. Instead, the cold beer, the
laughter and the upbeat music surrounding us at the pub helped me to get a grip
on my anger and my agony.

And then there was Mike…

“He was my knight in shining armor that day,” I told Biel as
I rounded a chaise lounge with a rolled arm and plump cushions. “He didn’t hit
on me. Not that night, anyway,” I added with a laugh. Settling on the chaise, I
said, “He listened when I finally needed to talk about Brandon and he dabbed at
my tears and then assured me I was much better off without the schmuck
boyfriend. Though I’d told him I was now thoroughly screwed because I’d just
moved in with Brandon. Luckily, there was a vacant apartment in Mike’s building,
next door to his. I thought it was fated that I’d met him.”

I was quiet for a moment as I considered this. I’d forgotten
how I’d felt, sitting on that barstool, staring into his mesmerizing blue eyes
as he’d grinned at me and said, “There’s nothing a couple hours at an Irish pub
can’t cure. Learned that when my horse died.”

I’d been ensnared and had asked him all kinds of questions,
until I’d realized he’d distracted me long enough that I could see the
situation with Brandon more clearly and knew I had to pick up the pieces of my
shattered life.

“He gave me back my dignity that night,” I told my new
friend as she moved in close to snap a photo of me. I’d pulled a pillow into my
lap and clutched the top of it with my hands, while resting my chin on my fingers
as they curled around the plush material.

She asked, “How’d you feel the first time he kissed you?”

I smiled, likely sappily, as I recalled Thursday night’s
adventure in my dressing room. “Like nothing else existed in the world except
the two of us.”

“Mm, that’s nice. And how would you feel if he never kissed
you again?”

My heart constricted and my stomach twisted. I searched for
the right words. To say I’d shrivel up and die was, of course, much too
dramatic. But I knew a huge part of me would be torn to shreds.

Swallowing a lump of emotion, I told her, “I can honestly
say I’ve never been so swept away by a kiss. And each one he gives me is like
jumpstarting a dead battery. I feel electric. I feel energized. I feel
sensational. And if he never kissed me again, I would feel as though I were
missing out on something magical and significant. I’d feel a void in my life.
He truly is amazing.”

A tear pooled in my eye and Biel caught it on camera. My
teeth sank into my lower lip as I pushed my feelings to the absolute limits.
“I’ve known him for three years. It seems like a lifetime. He knows me so well.
He’s my best friend, and if he were no longer in my life, I really would be
devastated.”

No amount of time in an Irish pub could cure that particular
feeling.

This revelation caused a very poignant thought to occur to
me. Tossing aside the pillow, I told Biel, “I wasn’t in love with Chase or with
Brandon. I thought I was, but… How could I have been? I never felt half the
things for either of them that I feel for Mike. I’d thought I was heartbroken
and devastated when both relationships tanked, but the truth is, I wasn’t
really heartbroken—I was angry I’d given them a part of myself and they hadn’t
respected me or cared enough about me to not cheat on me. They so easily threw
away what we had. That’s what has really tormented me all this time and has
made me feel—” I shook my head as more tears crested the rims of my eyes and
spilled down my cheeks. “Maybe you should stop taking pictures now.”

She placed the camera on a coffee table and sat on the
cushion next to me. “You felt abused, didn’t you? Like everything had been
stripped from you, because you’d had something to offer someone who didn’t
treat it as a gift, the way it was meant to be treated.”

“Bingo,” I whispered, choked up, but also continually
astounded by how astute this woman was. But then I realized she was more than
perceptive. She was a kindred spirit. “You know the feeling.”

“I do.” She covered one of my hands with hers. “Still, you
let Mike into your life, even though you’d been kicked around twice and knew
better. Why?”

“I did mention he’s a super-hunk, right?”

She smiled, though her eyes were a bit misty too, from her
own emotional dilemma. “Yes. A time or two.”

Letting out a long breath, I said, “I don’t have an answer
to your question.”

With a nod, she said, “When you do, I think you’ll solve
your problem.”

I stared at her, thinking Piper Levine was an absolute bitch
for putting Biel through hell. But Biel kept coming back for more, didn’t she?

“Maybe you shouldn’t make it so easy for Piper when she
returns,” I boldly said.

Biel gave this some thought, then told me, “This is going to
sound stupid and immature, but I honestly don’t know how to live without her.”

That sentiment struck a curious chord with me. “I don’t
think it’s stupid or immature. Aren’t you supposed to love someone so much
you’d be lost without them?”

“I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “I’ve only ever loved
Piper. And lately, all I can think is this can’t be healthy. This can’t be a
normal relationship if one person can so easily destroy the other and keep
calling it love.”

Girlfriend had a point.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be so quick to let her off the hook
this time.”

I wasn’t just saying that for Biel’s benefit, but—in
spirit—for Mike’s as well.

Brushing away her own tears, Biel said, “In my head, I know
you’re right. In my heart…” She let out a hollow laugh. “Let’s just say I wish
she’d put as much effort into working on our relationship as you are with Mike.
It proves you care about him, Lacey. And that you’re strong enough to cut the
ties on your past and move forward. With him.”

“God, I hope you’re right,” I told her on a heavy breath.

She squeezed my hand. “I think I am.” Then she moved away
and reached for the camera again. Focusing it on me, she said, “Just say his
name for me.”

I pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. I couldn’t
hold back my smile as I said, “Mike.” The mere thought of him made my heart
swell.

“Lovely,” Biel said as she handed me the camera. “Keep it. I
have dozens.”

“What am I supposed to do with all these photos?”

Biel sipped her wine, then told me, “Send a few of them to
Mike via email. Print out a couple of them and slip them under his door or mail
them to him. Surprise him by writing something on the front. Like ‘thinking of
you’ or ‘you make me smile’. Doesn’t have to be anything complicated. Simple
works just as well.”

“Jesus, you’re brilliant.”

“I know, right?” Her sassy smirk returned. I swear the woman
had more charisma in her pinky than I had in my entire body. And the way she
overcame adversity. Someone should give her a medal for being so resilient.

As she polished off her wine and then popped the cork on the
champagne, I said, “You’re pretty much a hopeless romantic, aren’t you?”

“Most definitely
hopeless
,” she said as she brought
me a crystal flute full of Cristal. “But yeah, I’m a big fan of romance.”

“So…got any more tips for me?”

She considered this as she drank her champagne and then
mused, “Love letters.”

My brow lifted. “Excuse me?”

“Does anyone write them anymore? Or is it all texting and
emailing? I bet the fine art of a handwritten love letter is obsolete in
today’s world.”

I suspected she might be right. “What would I say?”

“That’s easy,” said the woman who had all the answers for me
this afternoon. “Just tell the super-hunk what you told me.”

“Yeah, I was so eloquent.”

She giggled. “You were great. And I bet he’d like to know
exactly what you think of him—and your relationship.”

It was certainly one way to express my feelings without
tripping all over myself.

“Just make sure it’s handwritten,” she warned me. “Not a
printout from your computer. That’s too effortless and it’s not nearly as
personal. Put some heart and soul into it.”

“You’re stretching my boundaries, Biel.”

With a contemplative look, she said, “Isn’t it about time I
started doing that—particularly with Piper?”

What had I said before? The woman was a freakin’ force of
nature with which to be reckoned.

And I was damn glad to know her.

* * * * *

I returned to my apartment, downloaded a few photos to my
laptop and sent them to Mike via email, taking the supermodel’s advice and
keeping my comment simple. “This is what I look like when I say your name.”
Yes, I looked deliriously happy in those pictures and I wanted to share them
with him.

I still didn’t have an answer to Biel’s question about why
I’d let Mike into my life after having the rug ripped out from beneath me by
Chase and Brandon, especially when I’d put him in the same category as them—a
womanizer who would break my heart. How had I come to trust him so much, I’d
given him a key to my apartment after only six months of living next door to
him? How had I let him insinuate himself into my life when I’d given up on
dating and the hopes of finding Mr. Right—because of “guys like him”?

I knew I had to explore this in order to get to the heart of
what I truly felt for Mike—and what I wanted out of our transformed friendship.
Unfortunately, I also had a mystery to solve for Mav Linnear at Elan
Essentials.

So I settled at the kitchen table and scoured a stack of
transcripts, finding little snippets here and there that painted a bigger
picture as I started to segregate them. What I discovered before dinner with
Mike was that little tidbits shared over the course of the month to an external
source created a whole can of worms to open—which the blogger had intended to
do.