Authors: Clare James
Well so much for that
brilliant plan.
Shit!
I’m so pathetic, I arranged that chance meeting in
the elevator. I waited in the corner of the building, like a fucking stalker,
watching for her. I almost missed the elevator because I couldn’t move once I
did finally spot her.
It’s been the longest week of my life, not seeing Stevie. Not
touching her. How someone could grow to mean so much in just a few short weeks
boggles the mind. But she has.
And when she came walking in wearing that dress and heels,
my heart stopped.
What the hell am I going to do?
The only thing that was keeping me going this whole time
was knowing that at least she didn’t walk out with Max. After his admission, I
thought I was golden, I really did. I thought maybe I would just give her
space, let her work through it in her way. And now I come to find out they’re
back together?
And she still thinks I’m married. She obviously didn’t read
my texts or listen to my voicemails.
Fuck!
The fact that she wouldn’t even hear me out, didn’t care
what I had to say, I think that’s what cuts the most. Yet, she still wants me.
There’s no faking what happened on the elevator. There’s no faking the way our
bodies respond to each other.
I hope that keeps her up at night. I hope that’s what she
thinks about when she sleeps next to Max. There’s nothing more I can do at this
point. She’s made that perfectly clear.
They can have each other for all I care.
I’m done with it.
Actually, I think I’m done with all of it.
Gabe holds true to his word.
He stays for the reveal of our final identity designs during the morning
session and then excuses himself. Even during my meetings with staff throughout
the week, there’s no sign of him.
I glance at his office as I walk from my meeting with Mrs.
Grimshaw today, who I now know as Mary. She’s becoming my mentor—always heavy
on the praise, but offering pointers here and there. She believes I could have
my own design shop someday. And the way she says it makes me believe in the
possibility.
Today, Gabe’s office door is closed and the light is off.
“He sure isn’t here much, is he?” I ask Mary, tipping my
head toward Gabe’s door.
“More than you’d think considering his schedule.” She talks
in awe of him, as does everyone on the team. “He’s off today, though. After his
wife’s death—”
“What?” I blurt, suddenly unable to breathe. “His wife
died?” I whisper.
“It was years ago,” Mary says. “Five to the day. I was
going to say, he takes this day off every year to honor her.”
Oh, he must be remarried. This isn’t making sense.
“But he’s remarried now?” I ask.
“Oh, no,” Mary says. “There hasn’t been anyone since. Not
anyone he’s introduced us to anyway. And I think he would. He’s pretty much an
open book and really close to the staff here. We opened when Anna was still
alive, so we all watched him go through a really tough time.”
“I’m sorry for prying,” I say, unsure she should be telling
me all of this since my relationship with Gabe is strictly professional now.
“It’s fine,” she says. “Gabe is so pleased with your work,
he’d consider you part of the family. I’m not speaking out of turn when I tell
you this. It’s just how we roll here, Stevie.”
She gives me a pat on the back before I leave for the day,
and I spend the commute trying to understand what this means.
The week proves to be
exhausting, and only more difficult now that I discovered Gabe isn’t married.
To make matters worse, I just know I’m going to have to find a way to fight Max
off when I get home.
Maybe I could enlist Free’s help again.
Max has been incredibly patient with me, but I can tell
it’s wearing thin, and he’s beginning to suspect something is even more fucked
up than he originally thought. Of course, he’s right.
I keep hoping something will click between us. It’s not at
all unpleasant when he kisses me or touches me. My body even hums a little, and
the blood coursing through my body picks up the pace. It’s like elevator musak,
which may not sound exciting, but it beats static silence, right? However, the
same moves with Gabe cause my body to bellow like a twenty-piece orchestra, my
blood zipping through my veins like a burst dam.
And he’s not married.
I really messed up this time.
Max orders in Chinese food and we snuggle in for some old
black and white flicks. It’s exactly what the doctor ordered. Max hates old
movies, so he’s obviously trying to make me happy. Maybe I should try to do the
same for him.
Out of habit, I go into our bedroom to change into my Hello
Kitty pjs, when J.T. starts singing in my head about bringing sexy back.
Hmmm.
I throw my Hello Kittys in the trash once and for all,
opting for a Betsey Johnson babydoll.
Make him happy, indeed.
I think it’s time to get this show on the road—rip off the Band-Aid,
carpe diem, and any other appropriate cliché we can throw in there. It’s time
to push Gabe from my mind, for good. I’ve lost him, there’s no doubt about
that now. I’m sure I don’t even deserve him after everything I’ve done.
It’s time to focus on what I do have. What’s good for me.
Yes, this evening is about Max, and tonight he will have
his
Casablanca
with a side of T and A. And a few other body parts if
he’s lucky.
I prance out to the living room, thoroughly impressed with
myself and the way I’m making my intentions known. Once Max takes in my skimpy
nightwear, he’s over to me in three strides.
Yes!
“Well hello there,” he says. “What’s all this?”
“Nothing. I’m just making sure I hang onto my new image,
and it doesn’t die once we reach the bedroom.”
“Tell me more,” he says.
“I’m trying to enjoy all of this more—my time with you. I
want to take the lessons I learned while I was away. I want things to be
different, Max. I want the excitement, and butterflies, and the fun.”
“Me too, Stevie. It’s all I ever wanted.”
He takes my hand and leads me into the bedroom.
***
In the morning, we wake on opposite sides of the bed. Max’s
eyes are open when I make my way over to him.
“Tell me, hon,” he pleads. “What can I do?”
“I know this sounds lame, Max,” I continue our discussion
about the train wreck that was last night. “It’s not you. This is all on me.
You are perfect. Hot. Sexy. Your body is amazing, and you definitely know how
to use it.”
“Then why don’t I do it for you?”
I look up to the ceiling, hoping there’s another answer up
there so I don’t have to break this to him.
“Is there someone else?” he asks, cringing.
I nod.
“Gabe?”
I nod again. “But it’s not just Gabe. We’d be having this
discussion without him.”
“I really screwed this up, didn’t I?” Max asks.
“I think you went to such drastic measures because neither
of us were getting what we needed out of our relationship. I don’t blame you
for that. But needing someone else, something else, to help fix us just tells
me it wasn’t right in the first place.”
“Are you moving out then?”
“I have to, Max. I’m so sorry, but it was a mistake to come
back.”
“Where will you go?”
“I can stay at my sister’s.”
“So you’ve already worked it all out? Can’t I say anything
to change your mind?” Max voice is shaky, and it causes me actual physical pain
to see him this way.
“You could, yes,” I admit. “But we can’t go through this
again. It’s not fair to either one of us. I know you agree, deep down.”
“But everything else is so good between us,” he tries to argue,
but I can see the acceptance taking hold in his eyes.
“That’s what sucks about it.” But we both know that what’s
missing isn’t a small thing; it’s what prevents us from ever having anything
more than a friendship. And I don’t want to spend my life living with a friend.
I want more.
“Yes, it does,” he finally agrees.
“Are you sure there are no girls who’ve caught your eye at
work?” I try to make light of one of the worst days of my life.
“Not a one.” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“When are you leaving?”
“Today.”
“What about Free?” he asks.
“I can’t leave without him. I tried once, remember?”
“Could I at least get him on weekends and every other
holiday?”
“Yes, of course.” I sniffle. “We don’t even have to go to
court for that. Anytime you want him. I’ll even leave him here until I get
settled.”
And that’s how grown-ups break up.
We say our very tearful goodbyes, and he leaves me to the
apartment. He said he couldn’t be here while I packed. It’s just as hard for
me. Thankfully, it doesn’t take long with my sparse belongings.
I kiss Free, promising to pick him up in a few days and
then spend the rest of my day moving into my sister’s place.
I sit on my sister’s sofa,
ready to relax for the night. In the past few weeks, I’ve lived through two
moves, a complete makeover, two breakups, an amazing affair, and a look into a
world I never knew existed. I can’t even wrap my head around it all. I’m
absolutely spent and just want to cuddle inside and watch the movie Max and I never
got around to.
A little Bogie always does a woman good.
Settled in with my ice cream, I watch Bogie take up the
screen. It’s my favorite scene: he strides in to yell at Sam for playing “As
Time Goes By”
when his eyes meet Bergman’s. She is demure and gorgeous—Hollywood
royalty at its finest. My heart flips, just like it always does at this part.
It makes me think of Gabe and the hotel bar—the first night
we met. His unkempt hair, delicious scruff, and those icy eyes. He’s even
better than Bogie—so much better.
My mind drifts back, and I allow it this time, remembering
the way we ended that first night. His voice commanding me to do all sorts of
naughty things. The way I came apart for him from just his words. I rewind that
part a few times.
A few minutes later, I’m vaguely listening to Bogie and
Bergman when my body shifts into autopilot.
What am I doing?
my
brain asks, while my body keeps moving.
I remove my loungewear, gliding into my most expense La
Perla bra and panties, a deep purple lace and satin number, topping it off with
the LBD and shoes that caught Gabe’s attention that night.
Could I do it again?
I don’t want to answer that question yet, so I keep going
focusing one just one step at a time. I have to try.
Moments later, I’m running out of the apartment, trying to
hail a cab. It’s a busy night and doesn’t take me long. I just need Gabe at the
hotel when I get there.
“Stevie,” my spunky waitress greets me when I walk in. We’d
become quite chummy during my stay—especially after she caught me making out
with Gabe by the elevator one evening.
I take in the place, memories smacking into me in crashing
waves. It looks just as it did that night, but this evening there’s a pretty
woman with long black hair playing piano in the lounge. She’s no Sam, I
muse—still acting out my
Casablanca
fantasy—but she’ll do.
“Hi,” I answer meekly. “Is he here?”
She shakes her head.
“Are you okay?” the waitress asks with concern. “Would you
like me to call him? I have a number for emergencies.”
“No, that’s okay,” I say, deflated.
Casablanca, this is not.
I shuffle out, the disappointment too much to take after
all this time. I’m aching to see Gabe. To apologize for not giving him a chance
to explain. To tell him how sorry I am about his wife. How could I have been so
cruel? Though there’s little chance he’ll forgive me now, I still need to make
him understand.
I can’t believe I spent all that time with him, and I have
no idea where he lives. I guess I have only one other option.
The Club.
The bellman shuttles me into a cab. En route, I say a
silent prayer to the Goddess.
Once I make it inside The Club, I make my donation to
Venus—a lot easier when I wasn’t wearing fifty-dollar panties—and join the
kinky freaks in the meeting room. I get a few nods and smiles as I scan the
place for Gabe.
Of course, I feel him before I see him. He’s gorgeous as
ever in his black v-neck t-shirt and messy hair. Unfortunately, so is the woman
with him. She laughs, flipping her sassy platinum fringe as her silky blue
dress catches the light.
What was I thinking come here? Of course he’s with someone
new. Why wouldn’t he? He owns the place for crying out loud. This is his
thing.
Gabe spots me before I can get out of the place unnoticed. Then he whispers
something to his new pet project and makes his way toward me.
“Stevie,” he says with a shocked expression. “You are the
last person I expected to see here tonight.”
“I’m sure I am,” I snap, letting my jealous alter ego have
her way.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks. And despite my
bitchy mood, he moves in closer. Always doing the opposite of what you expect.
“Let me guess, another conquest?” I ask, more hurt now than
mad.
“Hey, I don’t think that’s fair,” he says. “You’re the one
who left me, remember?”
“I know,” I tell him, rubbing my aching temples. “I’m
sorry.”
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” he asks, taking a
seat. “Why you’re here?”
“Well, it’s more like what
didn’t
happen,” I say,
rolling my eyes.
“Oh.” Gabe nods, quick on the uptake. He feigns concern,
though I can tell he’s pleased as punch about my little dig on Max.
Devil.
“But he was doing so well,” Gabe says.
“No.” I laugh. “It’s really not that. Max
was
doing
great; he is great. I just couldn’t go there with him. After everything, I couldn’t
seal the deal.”
“You mean the two of you haven’t been together in all this
time?”
“Nope. I couldn’t go through with it. Maybe women are
different that way.” I look off to where his date sits. “Or maybe, I’m just
different.”
“So you didn’t come here to, you know?” Gabe asks. “Join in
the festivities?”
“No!” I yell, taken aback. “I came to talk to you.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, I heard about your wife, Gabe.”
He’s quiet for a moment, staring at the ground. His face
doesn’t give him away and I really have no idea if he’s going to kick me out or
stay to talk.
“Hang on,” he says. “I need to tell Sylvie that we’re going
to be a while.”
“I’m sorry.” I wave my hands, shooing him back to his date.
“I don’t want to ruin your night. Now that she’s roped in the prize of The
Club, I’m sure she’s not going to want to go off with just anyone.”
Gabe chuckles, and I feel it down to my toes.
He’s still got it.
“Sylvie is not here to play, Stevie. She’s here because
we’re in negotiations.”
“What?” I say, knowing there’s worry etched all over my
face.
Negotiations
sound even worse.
Negotiating what, exactly?
“She’s going to buy the place,” Gabe says slowly to make
sure I understand.
“You’re selling The Club?”
“Yep.” He leans over and gives me a peck on the forehead.
“You’re not the only one who made some changes the past few weeks.”
“But why? Don’t you still believe in this place?”
“Sure I do. But
I
don’t need it anymore. When my
wife died, part of me died with her. I was just a shell for a long time. Until
I found this place. It brought me back from the dead, Stevie. I can’t explain
it, but the people, the energy … I could just be, and feel good, and not feel
guilty like I was betraying my dead wife. It saved me. Maybe like it saved you
a little?”
“It wasn’t this place that saved me.” I laugh. “It was you,
you idiot. You, and the damn phone sex, and all your other kinky tricks.”
“Ah, so it was the kink that did it?” He returns my smile.
“
Your
kink,” I clarify.
“You use what you know, I guess.” He reaches in for an
embrace, and I let him hold me. “I was so worried I fucked everything up for
you, Stevie.”
Burrowing into his warm body, I begin to sizzle. I know he
means this as an act of comfort, but I can’t help my reaction to him.
“So what made you come here tonight to tell me all of
this?” he asks, keeping me tucked in under his arm.
“Bogie,” I answer simply.
“What?” He scrunches his face in the most adorable way. I
want to jump him right here. Right now.
“I was watching
Casablanca
, and it made me think of
you.”
“Wow, that’s quite the compliment. I don’t think I’ve ever
been compared to Humphrey Bogart before. Well, as it turns out, that movie is
always On Demand at the hotel. We could watch it there. I’m sure you need a
place to stay, right?”
“No, I’m staying at my sister’s place. Plus, after all the
items I’ve had to buy to get my sexy back, I’m not sure I could afford to stay
there again.”
“Hmm.” He strokes his chin. “I do have some extra points
you can use if you like.”
“You do?”
“I do.” He chuckles again and moisture pools between my
legs.
If he keeps this up, I might just find myself in The Club’s
bedroom after all.
Absentmindedly, I lick my lips, not taking my eyes off his.
His expression grows darker, and he runs a finger along my cheek, reaching my
neck and sliding down my body, before resting his hand on my hip.
He gives me a gentle kiss and shakes his head.
“Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world,
she walks into mine.”
Oh, he’s so much better than Bogie.