Authors: Tara McTiernan
Lucie finished her notes and looked up. “What were you saying?”
“Well, it’s funny, see Bianca-“
“Nothing!” Chelsea said. “So! Aren’t you excited about your new business? How’s it going? Wow, I-"
“Bianca was saying,” Sharon continued in a louder voice. “That you two knew each other way back?”
Lucie blinked and then stuttered, “She...she did?”
“Well, did you?” Sharon said.
“Uh,” Lucie said, looking uncharacteristically flustered. “Yeah. Yes. We did. At a hedge fund company in Greenwich.”
“You really worked at Pinnacle?” Chelsea burst in. She couldn’t believe it. But she had to. Lucie – the ever-cool, smart, and funny girl she liked so much – was a compulsive liar. Or had been. It was crazy.
“Yes,” Lucie said carefully and giving a little nod. “At Pinnacle. I knew Bianca then.”
“Wow! I just can’t believe the coincidence!” Chelsea said and stopped, stumped about what more she could safely say. This whole situation was uncomfortable. Why had Sharon brought it up? What was she thinking?
“It’s interesting,” Lucie said. “She acted like she didn’t know me.”
Sharon said, “But you acted the same way - you shook her hand, too. Like you didn’t know her.”
Lucie's lips tightened, her face closing off. “It was awkward. This whole thing is...”
“Why?” Sharon said. “What happened?”
Lucie opened her mouth and shut it again. She shook her head. “I-I’d rather not talk about it.” She looked at Chelsea as she said it and then away. “Can we drop this?”
Sharon leaned in, “But really, I want to know what-“
Chelsea squealed, “I don’t! Let’s drop it.”
Sharon turned to Chelsea. “But the thing is, I don’t think that Bianca was being entirely honest. Sorry Chelsea, she’s your friend, but I have this feeling-“
Just then, Chelsea saw Bianca approaching, the crowd parting to allow her red-clad form through with Kate following right behind her. Chelsea bugged out her eyes and smiled an artificial smile that showed all her teeth. “Sharon? Please change the subject now?”
“What? Oh,” Sharon said, glancing back.
Lucie sighed and relaxed back against the banquette’s cushions in apparent relief just as Bianca and Kate stopped in front of their table. Bianca fanned her hand toward Kate like a game show hostess. “Ta da. Doesn’t Kate look wonderful?”
Kate straightened and smiled at them, her pale cheeks glowing with blush and her thin lips rosy with a pink lipstick. Even her flat dishwater-blond hair had been fluffed so that it looked thicker. Chelsea was impressed. The gerbil was actually kind of cute. They all made appropriate sounds of praise.
“Oh, thanks?” Kate said, her shoulders going up near her ears.
“So,” Bianca said, still standing over them. “This calls for a celebration. Kate’s first night out in the area. I’ll treat – let’s get a bottle of champagne. Let’s drink and be merry and stay out to the wee hours!”
Chelsea startled. Wee hours? She was meeting John at ten, the safest time when everyone would probably need to go home. Didn’t Bianca have to go? What about... “Wee hours? What about Sebastian? Don’t you have to relieve the nanny now?”
Bianca looked at Chelsea, giving a little jerk of irritation, her eyebrows lowering. “What? No. That’s the nanny’s job. That’s why we pay her far too much.”
“But…” Chelsea trailed off. She didn’t like the way Bianca was looking at her. Like she suspected.
"Well," Lucie chimed in. "I can't stay out. I have an early day tomorrow. Sorry to miss all the fun, though."
Chelsea looked at Lucie with gratitude before nodding and turning back to Bianca. "Me, too. Early day tomorrow."
"Really?" Sharon said. "I thought you wanted to stay out late tonight?"
Chelsea narrowed her eyes at Sharon. Maybe she didn't want to hang out with Sharon after all. First she wanted to leave. Then she brought up what Bianca had said about Lucie. Now this cross-examination. "I think you're remembering another time I invited you out. Not tonight."
“Well,” Bianca said lightly, looking happy again while gazing at her protégé. “Looks like it will just be you and me, Kate. Maybe we’ll just get two glasses, then?”
“Okay?” Kate said and giggled.
"No, I'll join you for a little while,” Sharon piped up.
Bianca’s head snapped around, eyes widening and smile fading away. “Oh…okay. Three glasses, then.”
Chelsea couldn't help it. "I thought you were tired. You were dying to go home earlier." She couldn’t help the bitterness in her voice either.
"I got a second wind," Sharon said and shrugged, her face a mask of nonchalance.
Bianca’s smile returned and she raised one eyebrow wickedly. “Oh, you’re not putting one over on us, Sharon. We know all about that second wind of yours. He’s still sitting at the end of the bar over there.”
“No,” Sharon said.
“Yes?” Bianca sang out. “Well, your secret’s safe with us. Oh, waitress? Can we get three glasses of champagne and the check? Kate, let’s pay and go over and stand next to a particularly handsome man at the end of the bar. See if he wants to talk to Sharon.”
Sharon, pink in the face, said, “Will you stop that? You’re reminding me of junior high.”
Bianca laughed, a rolling rich sound. “I’m just teasing you because you’re so much fun to tease. I’ll stop now. Promise. Forgive me?”
Sharon, seeing Bianca’s sense of humor about the whole thing, grudgingly laughed too. “Oh, sure.”
“Good. Let’s pay and go hang out where the action is. This table seems to be intimidating the prey in this bar,” Bianca said, still laughing a little as she spoke, making her words tremble.
Sharon laughed more genuinely then and said, “Yes, your subjects await, Queen Bianca.”
Bianca waved a queen’s circular wave, two fingers raised, and wiggled her head. Sharon guffawed.
In that moment, Chelsea didn’t want to leave anymore. They were having fun. It was a fun night at the hottest bar in town and she had to leave. And what she was leaving for felt all wrong. No, she belonged here. Where the action was. She clenched her hands into fists in her lap.
They paid their check, splitting it except for the champagne that Bianca paid for, and Chelsea reluctantly followed Lucie out of the bar while the other three women continued their night of revelry, glasses of champagne in hand. Lucie gave Chelsea a hug outside the door and they parted, Lucie promising to come out on another night soon when they could all stay out late.
Feeling the warm imprint of Lucie’s arms on her, Chelsea reapplied her lipstick under a streetlamp, checking her reflection in a raised compact, before walking down the street toward the Bedford Grill. No matter what Lucie’s problems once were, Chelsea decided that her friend had been cured. She shook her head, promised herself she’d forget all about it, and looked at her cell for the time. It was quarter-of. Too early. But where else was she going to go? No, she’d just go and sit at the bar until John got there. Actually, it would be better that way, not squirreled away at some cozy little table or booth. Instead they’d keep it impersonal and public and sit at the bar. She was only meeting him because he needed her help and she would do what she could. She would not let her feelings overcome her. They were just friends, that’s all.
Chelsea pulled open the door to the dark old pub and stepped inside, the warmth and musty beer-funk hitting her after the cool freshness of the air outside. Unlike Ibiza, the place was sparsely populated and quiet. Three men were sitting watching the game on the television on one end of the bar and one lone man sat with his back to her at the end near the door. She walked to one of the unoccupied stools between the two ends and started to put her purse down.
“Chelsea?”
She looked up and then blinked rapidly, her mouth dropping slightly open. The object of her office fantasies was sitting right here, in this old dump. Travis! Here? “Travis. Oh, my God? What are you doing here?”
Leaning with his elbows on the bar wearing only his slightly rumpled white shirt from the office, his jacket and tie slung over the back of his barstool and the top of his shirt unbuttoned, Travis looked more handsome than ever. A half-empty beer sat in front of him. “What? No, this is my stomping ground. Love this place. What are you doing here?” His smile was open and friendly. He reached over and patted the empty stool next to him and said, not waiting for her reply. “Come and sit and let me fill your ears with my woes. Well, you probably have a few woes yourself.”
She looked at the seat he was patting. That’s exactly what she wanted to do. Sit with him, talk, gaze into his eyes, breathe in that wonderful cologne he always wore. But- “I’m meeting someone actually.”
Travis’s eyebrows went up. “Oh. Okay. Well, do you want to sit with me while you wait? Or…” he said, and paused, looking thoughtful. “Is it a-“
“No, I’ll sit with you!” Chelsea said, cutting him off before he continued with that line of thought. She wasn’t going on a date with John. He was a married man. She’d been reminding herself of these facts all night. And here was Travis, her Travis. Please God, let John be late.
She walked over and sat down on the stool Travis had been patting. "Hi," she said, realizing how unnecessary the greeting was after it was already out of her mouth and hanging foolishly between them.
Travis didn't seem to notice. "So, you like the Bedford too? It's the place," he said, nodding. "When I need to chill, I come straight here. And look. The same as ever." He gestured at the bar and looked around with visible appreciation.
"Ah, yeah! It's cool," Chelsea said, following his gaze. Cool. Or not. But she wanted to agree with him. Wanted to see it through his eyes. Looking around she saw the same sad worn-out bar she'd walked into. "What do you like best about it, do you think?"
"You know...it's real. That bar around the corner, new one?"
"Ibiza?" she asked, brightening.
"Hate that place. Snob city. No, the Bedford's where it's at. And I couldn't face going home after today, not until I had a couple beers in me. Plus, Pat?" Travis said, gesturing at the older gentleman leaning against the opposite inside corner of the bar with an apron tied around his large belly and watching the game with the other men. "He's my man. Always a good word from Pat. He reminded me of something essential, something that completely escaped me."
"What?"
"It's just a matter of time. They'll reorg again. Maybe in less than a year. So I just have to hang in there."
Chelsea remembered then. Travis had been switched over to handle a new group of account executives, away from the winning team he'd been heading up for two years. And the new big account he'd been switched to wasn't the handy Conti Foods based in White Plains he'd been working on. It was Sensei Global, based in Japan with operations all around the Asia Pacific. Which meant almost constant travel.
"Yes, that's true," Chelsea said, reaching out and putting her hand on his shoulder. Oh, it was so warm and muscular. She patted his shoulder a little to make it appear simply a friendly gesture. What she really wanted to do was run her hands down over his chest, all over him. "They'll definitely reorg again soon. Guaranteed." Please let them reorg right away. She didn't want him always on the road. She'd never see him in the office anymore.
"Thanks. I hope so. And my team. We were the stuff. Now I've got to start over, and these new guys are not going to be easy. You should have heard the stupid green shit they were saying today after the announcement,” Travis said, shaking his head a little and taking a sip from his beer.
“Green?” Chelsea wanted to take her hand off his shoulder, knowing it was lingering there too long, but couldn't bring herself to do it.