Authors: Isabelle Aren
10.
The apartment over
Riley’s
recording studio was one of Jane’s favorite places on Earth. There were shelves
filled with books, vintage prints decorated the walls and everyone who passed
through seemed to leave behind some small token that looked as if it had always
been there. Jane had been known to spend the occasional weekend holed up when
Riley was out of town and needed a house sitter, so forgoing the party to hang
out there with Harper was a treat.
“Can
I ask you something?”
“Of
course.” Jane grabbed the pizza box and flipped the top. “What remains to be
seen is if I answer your question.”
“Is
this still a date?”
“Still?”
Jane slid a slice on both plates and handed one to Harper before setting out
the glasses for beer. No matter what she did in her life, or where she went,
she always managed to position herself as the one who served the food and
alcohol. It probably wasn’t in her DNA, but it felt like it most of the time. “What
do you mean?”
“We
changed our plans. Before we were going on a date and now we’re eating pizza.”
Harper shrugged. “I just wondered if this still counted as an official date?”
“Well,”
Jane paused to crack open the growler and pour them each a glass of lager. “We’re
together and we’ve got a drink, so that’s like having a date at a bar. We’ve
also got food and we’re sitting at a table that neither one of us own, so
that’s like being in a restaurant. Now, as far as I know, bars and restaurants
are common places where people go on dates so it would seem that we are on a
date.”
“Do
you think your friends will be mad that you’re not at their housewarming party?”
“I
texted Sarah and told her I wasn’t coming,” Jane picked at the small chunks of
bacon that fell off her slice and stated piling them back on. “She was fine
with it.”
“Are
you?” Harper’s face was serious, her voice heavy with concern.
“Observing
Robin and Sarah in full nesting mode isn’t my idea of a good time.” The moment
she admitted it Jane felt a heavy weight moved off her shoulders. “I don’t
think I could stand to take one more
happy-house
tour. I don’t know
about you but I’ve seen way too many family rooms and future nurseries.”
“Should
I assume you don’t want one of those happy-houses? Or a future nursery?”“
Harper asked with more keen interest than Jane was able to process at the
moment.
“Don’t
assume anything about me.” Jane responded.
“So
you want kids?”
“I’m
undecided,” she answered. “The world seems filled to capacity and I’m not
particularly maternal so I’m leaning in the ‘no kid’ direction but I reserve
the right to change my mind.”
“Having
the freedom to travel and own nice things that don’t get trashed are also big
incentives to staying childfree.” Harper added, much to Jane’s relief since
women who were in a wild rush to track down the perfect sperm donor the instant
they got in a relationship was a huge turn-off.
Jane,
desperate for a change of subject, pointed to the keyboard on the other side of
the living room. “Is that yours?”
Harper
nodded and took a drink of her beer.
“I wondered what you played,” said Jane.
“I’m also a classically trained cellist.” Harper put her glass
down before shrugging out of her jacket and tossing it onto the couch. “I got
accepted to Julliard but decided to go to Berkley instead.”
“What made you change your mind about Julliard?”Jane remarked and
kicked off her shoes. She figured it her date was going to get comfortable then
she was too. The only real problem was that she was stuck in the super short
dress that made her nervous.
Harper began rolling up her shirt sleeves “I didn’t want to end up
in the orchestra pit.”
“And then you made the moved to dream-pop?”
“Did you wiki me?” Harper grinned.
“It’s possible.” Jane shrugged, she knew she would have a hard
time pulling off disinterest for very long, but she tried to keep up
appearances for a few more minutes.
“I picked up some session work one summer,” Harper paused to top
off her glass of beer. “I knew someone, who knew someone, who had a spot on an
upcoming Hotel Costas compilation and were looking to add a little atmosphere.”
“And nothing says atmosphere like the cello.” Jane interjected.
“Exactly,” said Harper. “One I got into the studio I never wanted
to leave. I liked the production process and Max Cori was doing the remix on
the track. She and I sorta hooked up and the rest was history.”
“You and Max Cori?” Jane had to admit she felt a jealousy and awe
in equal amounts. Max Cori was her favorite teenage crush and she’d never
stopped getting a thrill out of listening to her music. “Was this like a
thing-thing
or just a
work-thing
?”
“I used to be a hardcore fan of Kill Kitty, Thrill Kitty when I
was a kid so there was no way I wasn’t going to let her seduce me.” Harper grin
morphed into a full-blown smirk. “First it was just a working relationship but
then she kept finding reasons to call me back into the studio.”
“Why
do I get the feeling that I’m feeding your ego?” Jane broke off a chunk of
pizza and popped it into her mouth.
“Because
you are.” Harper’s shoulders shook with pent up laughter but her smile stayed
the same.
“Is
that why you’re smiling at me?” asked Jane.
“No,”
Harper said and took another drink of her beer. “I smile because I like looking
at you.”
Jane
felt her face go flush and a little shiver race down her spine as soon as
Harper spoke the words. “That’s a nice compliment.”
“It’s
not a compliment.” Harper told her. “It’s the truth.”
“Even
better, but what I wonder is if you and I have an expiration date?” Jane
figured that if she was going to dive into
the pool of ultimate rejection
she might as well shoot for the deep end. “It’s sort of this sticking point in
the back of my head that I keep trying to avoid thinking about.”
Harper
nodded, brought the beer to her lips and took a slow, thoughtful drink. “Because
I don’t live around here?”
“That’s
part of it.”
“What’s
the other part?” asked Harper.
“You
going on tour,” she paused to look down at her slice of pizza. “It’s the giant
inevitability I can’t see a way around.”
“There
are ways around any inevitability if you’re willing to be creative.”
“I
know, planes and hotels and Skype and international phone plans.” Jane listed
off all the tools people used to prop up a long distance relationship but she
none of them sounded like a decent solution. She liked skin-to-skin contact too
much to enjoy pretending that she was satisfied with staring into a computer
screen to make her professions of love. “When I was young, really young, my
parent’s didn’t have to tour year round. They could take time off, have side
projects and really mess around in the recording studio but the whole thing
changed and suddenly they had to tour constantly.”
“People
stopped buying albums,” Harper set her elbows on the island, crossing one arm
over the other. “They buy the singles that chart but if you want real money you
have to tour nonstop. It sucks but it’s the reality of the situation.”
“I
think that it’s one of the reasons my mom changed her career focus. She’s all
about this autobiography and TV appearances and her new career as Britain’s
newest reality star.” She took a sip of her beer and tried not to think of how
much she disliked her mother but it was difficult. The woman had yet to do
anything that made her a likable human. “It’s really gross, but she doesn’t
want to spend the rest of her life on the road and I don’t blame her.”
“I
take it you’re not a fan of reality stardom?” Harper laughed.
“Chloe’s
mom is on one of those shows. She’s one of the original ‘Real Wives of
someplace I can’t name’. Chloe’s biological dad owns one California’s biggest
porn production companies and her mom married some plastic-surgeon to-the-stars.
All three of them have their own show and Chloe had to run all the way to Maine
to get away from it.” Jane shook her head and stared across the room. “So, no,
I don’t have a whole lot of respect for people who exploit their families to
earn their fifteen minutes of fame.”
Harper
eyed her carefully for so long it had Jane squirming in her chair. “Why are you
looking at me like that?” She laughed nervously. “It’s freaking me out.”
“I
was just thinking how different you are than most of the people I meet.” Harper
shifted in her seat, kicking off her boot before moving her attention to her
slice of pizza. “A lot of people seem really desperate to cling to any scrap of
fame they can find. It’s become this weird cultural obsession that can be hard
to get away from.”
“Fame,
even in small amounts can be very isolating.” She stopped to try and find the
words but only ended up stumbling. “I’ve seen good people struggle…”
“Jane?”
Harper placed a hand on her shoulder and held it there until Jane took a breath
and let it out.
“No
one wants to end up like Peaches Geldof,” she said quietly. “It’s a tricky
balance.”
“So
you stay away from industry people at all costs?”
“That’s
exactly what I do.” Jane’s admission caught her by surprise. “But here I am,
dressed up and sharing a bacon pizza with you.”
“How
did that happen?” Harper asked with a gentle laugh.
Jane
put her slice of pizza back down on her plate and played with her napkin for a
brief moment before looking up and meeting Harper’s gaze. “You had the
prettiest eyes I’ve seen in a long time and I have a serious soft spot for chapstick
girls.”
Harper
cocked an eyebrow. “I don’t know if I’ve ever been described as ‘chapstick’
before.”
“It’s
a serious compliment.” Jane assured her.
“Good
to know,” Harper lifted her beer to take a sip and hesitated, her eyes lit up
like she was staring at Christmas tree lights. “Does this mean I’m your type?”
“Oh,
you have no idea.” Jane rolled her eyes as a smile spread over her lips. “What
happens when we finish this growler?”
“What
do you mean?”
“We’ll
both have had too much to drink, and you have this thing about us not sleeping
together yet, so I’m just wondering if I should call a cab.”
“Just
because we’re not gonna to have sex doesn’t mean we can’t sleep together.”
Harper opened the growler and poured more beer into Jane’s glass. “I don’t know
about you but I am more than capable of controlling myself when I really like
someone.”
“So,
you only put the hard moves on people you don’t like?” Jane teased. “I’m not
sure how I’m supposed to interpret that kind of logic.”
“What
if you didn’t interpret anything and you just accepted the fact that I like
you?” asked Harper. “I want to do everything right. I want it all to be
perfect.”
“There’s
no such thing as perfect.” Jane brought her hand to the collar of Harper’s
shirt and traced the edge with the tip of one finger. “Perfect isn’t even
possible.”
“I
can try.” Harper drew a breath, wrapping one arm around Jane’s waist to guide
her off the barstool and pulled her close.
Jane
breath caught in her chest when their bodies made contact. “What happens if you
fail?” She inhaled the scent of Harper’s skin, sandalwood and amber, in an
instant it was Jane’s favorite smell.
“I’m
not sure.” Harper’s breath, warm and inviting, moved across her cheek and
brought a new wave of heat coursing over her skin. “I guess I’ll just have to
beg your forgiveness and start all over again.”
“Or
you could kiss me?” Jane suggested as her eyes locked in on Harper’s mouth. It
was full and lush and entire irresistible. “Or maybe I should be the one kissing
you?”
Harper
stared at her for a second before she slid a hand around the back of Jane’s
neck, pulling her as close as two bodies could get with their clothes on, and
stilled her with a deep, hard kiss.
Jane
reveled in the feeling of helplessness when Harper hands tightened and held her
in place. A moan of pleasure and anticipation built in her throat as Harper
opened her mouth with the tip of her practiced tongue and greeted her waiting
lips with gentle teasing before pulling away so they could both catch their
breath.
“I’d
like more of that,” Jane whispered.
“So
would I,” Harper agreed with a sly grin. “I’m a big fan of kissing and I
suggest we spend a few good hours kissing each other just to make sure we know
what we’re doing before we fall asleep.”
“Sounds
like a plan to me.” She could not agree more but decided that using her mouth to
speak was a waste of perfectly good energy since they had a lot of kissing to
get in before bedtime.
11.
Harper was in the kitchen
trying to
answer a text from her tour manager when she heard the unmistakable sound of an
incoming text message from the bedroom. She tried to focus on what she was
doing but it seemed strange. Jane, barely awake a moment ago, was up and moving,
and from the sounds her phone was making, answering her message.
If it was anyone else Harper wouldn’t have thought twice about it.
Most of the people in her life were attached to their phone. It was a lifeline,
a tether that kept them connected to the rest of the world. It was the new normal
for the average American.
But not for Jane
.
With her, there was no constant Twitter stream floating through
their time together. She didn’t bother to jump at Facebook statuses or record
every inch of her day on Instagram. Hell she didn’t even take her phone out of
her purse most of the time, but there she was, seven on a Saturday morning,
texting away.
Harper finished her business as fast as she could, turned off her
phone and walked back into the bedroom. She didn’t like how her brain seemed to
seek out reason to be suspicious or jealous where none existed, but her gut
told her something was wrong.
Jane, looking distant and drawn, was sitting on the edge of the
bed, her phone on the pillow beside her. She stared at it for a moment before turning
her gaze to the open window.
“You okay?” Harper sat down in the chair beside the bed. “You
look a little shaken up.”
“It’s nothing. I just need to get moving.” She said, her voice
quiet and unsure,
Harper kept her distance and waited for Jane to decide how they
were to proceed. Harper knew it was going to be the same dance they’d been
doing since she walked into the club. She would move closer and Jane would
evade. One step forward and seventeen steps back. Being with Jane was starting
to feel like dancing with a blindfold on and her arms tied behind her back. She
could hear the music but she didn’t know what her partner was doing.
“I’m running late.” Jane looked at her briefly before lowering her
lashes. Happiness seemed to slip away as quietly as it arrived with her.
“You’ll need this.” She picked Jane’s dress up off the and placed
it on the edge of the bed.
“Are you going to be working all day?” Jane’s words hung in the
air between them. They sounded strained, as if she was inspecting each syllable
for hidden meaning before it passed her lips.
“In the studio.” She replied. “I’ve got Kara Olsen and most of my
band coming in to do some work.”
“I’ll try and stop by later.” Jane stared at her for a brief
second before standing up to step into the dress and Harper realized that Jane
seemed determined to be a stranger to her. That there might never be a moment
where this person, the one she was probably going to fall madly in love with, would
let her past the imaginary set of barriers she’d constructed to keep people
out.
“That would be nice.”
Jane gave her a soft, sad smile before tucking her hand behind her
ears and heading for the door. Once there she seemed to hesitate. Harper thought
she might be trying to decide something, maybe rethinking her getaway plan but
something inside her seemed resolved to stick with her present course of
action.
Harper held her breath as Jane squared her shoulders, turned the
handle and walked out.
*****
Jane had never felt like a bigger asshole in her entire life.
She’d been laying in a warm comfortable bed, listening to Harper answering
messages when she got the text from Sarah asking to meet at Sammi’s, and she’d
run out the door like her ass was on fire while Harper stared at her like she’d
suddenly sprouted a giant set of horns and a tail
She figured the description was not far off. She was giant bitch-demon
for bolting like an asshole when someone like Harper was waiting for them.
Jane tugged at the hem of her dress as she strode through the door,
and tried to use her power of will to make the dress a few inches longer or the
heels a couple of inches shorter since she couldn’t shake the feeling that she
looked like a street walker returning from a night of hard labor.
“Holy shit, girl.” Sammi whistled as Jane made her way to the bar.
“Where the hell have you been?”
“It’s a long story,” she groaned. “Can I get a Greyhound?”
“Of course,” Sammi replied.
“Make it a double and add a little Cointreau.”
“You sure you don’t want to come back here and do it yourself?”
Sammi raised a manicured eyebrow and grabbed a fresh grapefruit. “You’re
certainly better at this than I am.”
“I never tend bar in heels.” Jane let out an exhausted sigh as she
sank onto the barstool.
“You should think about it. I bet you’d get more tips.”
“And a hammer toe,” Jane laughed. “A few extra tips won’t make up
for getting ugly feet.”
“I didn’t know you had a foot fetish,”
“That’s because I don’t have a foot fetish.”
Sammi set the drink down in front of her and gave a little wink. “But
you do have a fetish?”
“Not one that I’m willing to talk about in public,” she laughed.
“Oh, come on? You know you want to tell me your best secrets?”
Sammi inquired with a sly grin. “I’ll tell me mine and you tell me yours so we
can see if our fetishes will play nice together?”
“Now, Sammi,” Jane paused to take a fast drink. “Don’t you think
Nat would be mad at me if I tried to put the moves on you?”
“I doubt it since she knows you don’t do girls with cocks.” Sammi
shook her head. “Just give me a little glimpse into that beautiful brain of
yours so I can die a happy woman.”
Jane smiled, leaned forward and whispered, “A hot bath and a cold
drink.”
“What about a warm body?” Sammi gave her a crooked grin and nodded
past Jane shoulder. “Looks like you’ve got one coming for you.”
Jane turned to see Sarah, fresh, blond and perfectly put together
for Saturday breakfast, coming toward her. Her stomach dropped into her mile-high
shoes as she watched Sarah clear the tables.
“You have the most interesting taste in women,” Sammi mused. “I
never knew you were the type that went for that virginal thing.”
“I’m not,” she muttered.
“I take it she’s not the reason for that dress?
“No, she’s the reason I put the dress back on this morning and
hustled my ass over here.” Jane felt it was important to clear that up before
Sammi got the wrong idea. “She texted me this morning and asked to meet her for
breakfast.”
“Sounds ominous,” Sammi chuckled and started wiping down the bar. “I’ll
make you another one of those.”
Jane didn’t have time to express her approval she was too busy
trying to figure out why Sarah’s arms were wrapped around her in a hug. Jane
tried to return the gesture but she wasn’t much on physical contact with people
she didn’t know and wasn’t going to sleep with.
“I’m so glad to see you,” Sarah sang.
“Thanks,” Jane stammered as she broke free from Sarah’s arms. She
picked up her drink and took an extra-large sized sip and tried to forget the
smell of the sticky sweet perfume she’d just inhaled.
Harper had worn perfume the night before
, her brain whispered. It was a dark scent, earthy and warm with
hints of amber and sandalwood. Jane took another sip, she could feel the alcohol
in her veins and the memory of Harper’s hands on her skin.
She’d made a huge mistake
“That looks good,” Sarah said, pointing to Jane’s champagne flute
as she sat down beside her. “Maybe I should try one of those? Are they strong?”
“Strong? No,” Jane paused. “Unpredictable? Yes.”
“How can a drink be unpredictable?” Sarah tilted her head to the
side and gave her a flirtatious glance.
“It’s grapefruit and vodka with a little splash of orange liquor,”
Jane pointed to Sammi humming away while she cut grapefruits on the other side
of the bar. “A lot of places will use grapefruit juice and you’ll get a
predictable drink. As long as you stick to the proportions all the drinks will
come out tasting the same. It’s when you use freshly squeezed juice that you
get your surprises. One drink might be sweet while the next is tart.”
“So, it’s going to be a surprise.”
Jane finished her drink and set the empty glass down on the table.
“I don’t know about you but I feel like living dangerously for a few hours.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Sarah laughed nervously. “I’m feeling a
little underdressed for drinks at the bar.”
“It’s not you, it’s me. You look much more respectable than I do.”
Jane replied. “I didn’t plan things out very well and I sorta got stuck in this
dress.”
“You two ladies ready to put in an order?” Sammi asked as she set
down the fresh round of drinks.
“I’d kill for some baked brie and a fresh fruit plate,” Jane said.
“Maybe some crusty sourdough on the side?”
“Anything for the pretty lady?” Sammi gave Sarah a smile so
dangerous it would’ve made a sailor blush.
Sarah didn’t bat an eyelash at Sammi’s lascivious behavior, either
because she didn’t recognize it or wasn’t interested. “I’ll have the eggs
Benedict.”
Sammi ran a hand down the front of her dress, straightening the
small wrinkles that formed between the buttons. “Can I interest you in some
fresh crab cakes to go along with your eggs Benedict?”
“Sure,” Sarah said. “That sounds great.”
Sammi looked from Jane to Sarah and back to Jane again. It was
difficult to know just what was going through her mind, but Jane assumed it had
something to do with why she was sitting at the bar in last night’s clothes with
a fresh-faced breakfast companion at eight in the morning.
“I’m glad you could meet with me,” Sarah said in between sips of
her drink. “So, how did you end up stuck in your dress?”
Jane shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “It’s a long story.”
“Thank you for texting me last night.” Sarah smiled. It was a
sweet, gracious smile, the same one she used when she was stealing girlfriends
back in high school. “I appreciated it.”
“Even though we didn’t make it to your party?”
“We?” Sarah’s smile grew curious as she sipped her drink. “Is it a
serious commitment?”
Seeing as how she wasn’t sure Harper would want to see her after
her earlier bad behavior she gave an most honest answer to a question she
didn’t want asked. “We’re more of a work in progress.”
“What do you think it’s progressing toward?”
“It’s still early to tell anything.” Jane picked up her second
drink of the morning and took a sip. It was good and tart, better than the
first one, which was too sweet for her liking.
Sarah eyed her carefully before furrowing her brow in an expression
of concern. “Does your friendship with Lily get in the way?”
“Lily?” Jane stared at Sarah’s face in the mirror. She didn’t know
what she was supposed to be looking in her demeanor for but something felt off
to her.
“Well,” she said with a shrug. “The two of you were always close. I
just assumed there was something going on.”
“No, there’s nothing going on between Lily and me.”
“I offended you.” Sarah’s face flushed, Jane didn’t know if it was
on account vodka or the conversational fumble, but she was grateful for it all
the same. To her it signaled the first crack in Sarah’s candy coated shell.
“It takes more than that to offend me.” Jane informed her.
“What if I ask you if you’re in love?” Sarah’s laughter was light
but nervous and unsure.
“In love?” The phrase felt unfamiliar in her mouth and she nearly
choked on the words as the moved up her throat and passed her lips. “In
like
?
Yes. And we’re probably in lust, but that other thing takes time.”
“
That other thing
?” Sarah sat up, squaring her shoulders as
though she’d finally been able to latch onto something. “I never heard love
described with so much emotional distance before.”
“I’m just trying to keep things in perspective. Love and sex have
a tendency to get mixed up if you’re not careful.”
“I’m actually very good at separating love and sex.” Sarah lowered
her thick lashes and smiled. “You have to be when you’ve been with the same
person since you were seventeen.”
“I’d think it’d be the other way around.” She’d arrived for
breakfast knowing that there was a strong possibility that Sarah would turn the
conversation toward her relationship with Sarah but Jane still wasn’t prepared
to discuss things stemming from what happened nearly a decade before.
“Robin’s not very interested in sex anymore.” Sarah set her empty
glass on the bar and motioned to Sammi for another. “And I have a tendency
to…stray.”
“Stray?” Jane asked. “You mean you cheat?”