“Yes, I can be ridiculously bored for another straight week.”
“Only you could find boredom on your days off.”
“That’s not true. I suspect you do as well.”
He rolled his eyes. “You know me too well.”
I nodded. “I notice things. Have a good night, Phin.”
“Wait,” he called out to me as I approached the elevator. “Why don’t we go out and celebrate? I’m going to the opera tonight, and the Drake Publishing box looks pretty empty with just one person sitting in it.”
“The opera? You and I have a completely different idea of what the word ‘celebrate’ means.”
“It’s not that bad,” he said, chuckling. “I promise.”
“With that glowing review, how can I pass up that invitation?”
“My thoughts exactly. Pick you up at seven?”
“It’s a da— celebration. It’s definitely just a celebration.”
*****
I went through the entire contents of my closet before settling on the first dress I’d tried on. A simple black sheath, not too short, not too much cleavage. Classy enough for the opera.
Is it classy enough for the opera?
Maybe I should change again?
No, it’s almost seven. I don’t have time to change.
Ugh! Damn it, Mena.
I brushed some blush over my cheeks and was in the process of applying my eyeliner when I heard Jo conversing with someone in the living room.
Oh, crap. Phineas.
I hadn’t expected him to come to my door, and now he was left to fend for himself with Jo. At this rate, I had fifteen—maybe twenty—seconds before he turned tail and ran. Frantically, I searched around my room for my purse, finding it hidden on my bed underneath the third and fourth dress I’d tried on. After snatching it up, followed by one quick glance in the mirror, I scurried out my bedroom door.
“There’s my best friend and roomie,” Jo announced my entrance.
“Best friend, eh?”
“Look, after you spend a couple minutes on a bathroom floor holding a girl’s hair while her head’s in the toilet, you kind of earn the right to call her your best friend.”
“I sense a pattern here,” Phineas added. His back had been turned to me until he heard my voice.
It was hard to tell what he was wearing from behind. The only thing I could see were the legs of his trousers from the knees down poking out from underneath his wool coat. Never before had I’d seen him without a suit on, and I expected he’d be wearing the usual fair tonight. But when he turned around and his open coat revealed the tuxedo hiding underneath, coupled with his onyx hair slicked back for the evening, I gasped.
“You look lovely,” he greeted me.
“Are you sure it’s enough?” I asked, my insecurities bubbling to the surface once more.
“You’re perfect. It’s … it’s perfect.”
“Okay,” Jo interceded, “I’m just going to go back to my game and leave you two to whatever it is you’re doing right now.”
“Novel idea, Jo,” I replied through clenched teeth, grabbing my own wool coat from the closet. She was right. Rarely was Phineas flustered, and rarely was I rendered speechless, with my mouth agape and my heart fighting to burst its way through my chest.
I’d been to the opera before, years ago with my parents. In hindsight, that could have been what soured me on the idea of seeing another one. What I hadn’t done, however, was attend a performance in a box seat. Even though I hadn’t spent a dime of my own money to be where I was, I still felt a sense of importance sitting perched above everyone else seated below. It was an experience Phineas usually reserved for potential clients he was wooing. And it worked like a charm.
“It’s in Italian?” I asked. “That’s going to make the night far more interesting.”
“It’s been performed in multiple languages,” Phineas replied, skimming through the playbill, “but I much prefer the Italian Orfeo ed Euridice over the others. There’s something more authentic about it than the others.”
“And yet English is still the only version I’m able to understand.”
“That’s not true. Music is a universal language, no matter the words being spoken. Close your eyes and listen to the melody. You’ll understand everything that’s happening, for the melody speaks for itself. And if you’re still puzzled, I’ll be right here to give you a synopsis of what’s happening.”
“My hero.”
The lights in the theater began to dim until we were enveloped in darkness, awaiting the start of the performance. It didn’t take long. As Phineas instructed, I closed my eyes, taking in the first scene with my uncompromised senses. Grief. That’s what I gathered from the melody, which was confirmed when I opened my eyes to see Orfeo grieving the death of his wife, Euridice. The last opera I’d seen was a bit on the depressing side, and this one was promising to be no different.
Phineas leaned in close to my ear. “Orfeo is devising a plan to rescue his wife from the Underworld.”
“Those are the actions of someone who’s either seriously committed or seriously mental.”
“Some would say only a fine line separates the two.”
I was aware, to the point of distraction, just how close his lips were to my earlobe when he whispered in my ear. With every exhale, his warm breath caressed the side of my neck, melting into my body. Goosebumps rose down my arms, having little to do with the temperature in the room. Breathless, I peered over at Phineas from out of the corner of my eye, hoping he was just as distracted by me as I was by him.
That wasn’t the case. His eyes were thoroughly trained on the stage before us. And the fact that I thought for a second they wouldn’t be made me feel foolish.
“Amore, the God of Love, has appeared and is comforting Orfeo.”
“Where the hell was she when Euridice was bitten by that snake?”
Phineas chuckled, transferring more of his warmth from his body to mine. “Amore is telling him that Jove has pitied him and is allowing him to descend into the land of the dead to rescue Euridice. However, there are conditions.”
“Aren’t there always?”
“Orfeo must neither look at Euridice, nor explain to her why looking is forbidden. Otherwise, he’ll lose her forever.”
“He’s lost her forever, anyway, hasn’t he? That’s not much of a gamble. Even if he doesn’t succeed, at least he had a chance that no one else would ever have.”
“That’s both a depressing and optimistic way of looking at it.”
“I’m a complicated woman.”
“That’s an understatement,” he snorted.
I looked over at him, expecting to see him glancing back at me, his lips drawn together in a tight smile, the way he always looked whenever he threw a playful slight in my direction. But once again, he was transfixed on the story of Orfeo and Euridice, which had transitioned into its second act.
I’d never allowed myself to look at Phineas before the way I was looking at him now. Sure, I looked at him all the time at work, but I never really saw him the way others had. My feelings for Peter had blinded me, rendering Phineas’s appearance inconsequential in my mind. Now that my feelings for Peter had subsided over the course of the last few months, it was like a veil had been lifted, and everything that had been hidden by those feelings was revealed. Realizing that I’d been staring at him for an inordinate amount of time, I shook my head. My cheeks burned at my indiscretion, which, luckily, he’d failed to notice.
Close your eyes. Just close your eyes and listen to the music like he told you to do. It will keep you from making an ass of yourself.
I closed my eyes, taking in the second act through sound. Despite not knowing a bit of Italian, the music, the melody, the tone, the urgency, and the beauty created therein made sense out of the words I didn’t understand. It was all so categorically beautiful and breathtaking that the corners of my lips turned upward into a smile that stayed with me from a quarter of
the way through the second to act, straight through to the end of it, when Orfeos was reunited with Euridice in the Underworld.
“It’s gorgeous,” I stated, opening my eyes.
“Exquisite, actually.”
I expected Phineas’s eyes to still be glued to the performance, but as I turned my head to acknowledge him, to my surprise, they were staring straight into mine. The intensity that was projected within them, usually reserved for whenever he was giving an impassioned speech from a lectern, was replaced with a hunger. A longing I could feel down to the marrow of my bones.
Everything told me to look away, that we were entirely too close to one another, that things were at risk of becoming awkward between us, but something was drawing me to him and him to me. It was a manifestation of the pull I’d felt toward him the entire night, and there was no denying now that he felt it, too. From out of the corner of my eye, I noticed his hand slowly making its way to my cheek before hesitating and retreating in the opposite direction. Phineas was never hesitant about anything, yet even the heat that had been reflected in his eyes mere moments ago had begun to cool, hardening into pools of conflict. If I didn’t act and act now, the moment we’d shared together would be lost, perhaps never to be found again.
My fingers reached out and brushed against Phineas’s hand, beckoning it on its journey. He didn’t require any further coaxing from me. Maybe that was all he needed—to know I desired him just as much as he desired me. Because in that moment, I did desire him. I desired him more than I should have, and my eyes fluttered closed the moment his knuckles lightly caressed my cheekbones, drinking him in. So gentle was his touch that I could barely feel him at all. Like a warm breeze, his skin softly grazed over mine, both calming me and driving me crazy for more all at once.
I exhaled sharply when his knuckles were replaced by his fingertips, moving from my cheek and resting on my jawline, where his thumb lightly traced the outline of my lips. Even with my eyes closed, I could sense that he’d leaned in even closer to me, close enough for me to absorb the heat radiating from his body. I opened my eyes to see his face inches from my own, our lips so close to touching that the anticipation of them doing so was painful. He had to feel it, too. The pain, the need to take things to a level neither of us would have expected our relationship would go. Still, I sensed hesitation. His willpower was impressive, far more impressive than my own.
“Phin,” I whispered, breathlessly, “kiss me.”
He withdrew from me, conflict burning in his eyes. But just like before, whatever was fueling his discord quickly dissolved away, revealing the confident, passionate man I’d come to know.
“Damn it, Mena.”
Before I could take another breath, his mouth found mine, our lips crashing against each other with a sense of urgency. His fingers traveled fervently from my face, entangling themselves in my hair, ultimately pushing us even closer together. He groaned as I parted his lips with my tongue, tasting him and a hint of the spearmint breath mints he always had on hand. As close as we were, I wanted to be even closer to him. No, I needed to be closer to him. My body screamed for it. Without hesitation, I slid over the armrest, straddling his lap, never once removing my lips from his. The theater was dark, and our seats were tucked in the back corner, away from prying eyes.
Phineas’s breathing became heavy, matching my own as his lips traveled from mine, finding their way down my neck. Upon his descent to my collarbone, he lightly nuzzled my skin with his nose, leaving a scorching trail where his skin made contact with mine. He stopped just shy of the neckline of my dress, smirking as my breathing became even more labored. He knew absolutely everything he was doing to me was driving me insane, and he seemed to be enjoying every second of it. We were both caught up in the moment, neither of us aware of anything else that was going on around us. It was only us and no one else.
He ran his hands down the length of my body, coming to rest when he reached each of my thighs, where his fingers massaged my skin, pushing up the hemline of my dress. Dizzy with need, I undid Phineas’s tie and unbuttoned the top half of his shirt. My hands wound their way through the opening I’d made, feeling his body underneath my fingertips, cursing the undershirt he was wearing for coming between me and the rest of him. He was toned, that much I already knew, but the anticipation of feeling him ignited a fire inside of me. His lips found mine again as his hands continued to push up the hemline of my dress, his fingers sliding up my inner thigh. Phineas’s touch, so delicate, yet so commanding, did nothing to quench my thirst for more.
More.
It dawned on me then that we could have it. We could have each other. In our secluded, dark box where no one could see us, we could do just about anything together. With this thought weighing heavily on my mind, I removed my hands from Phineas’s shirt and trailed my fingers down to the button of his tuxedo pants.
His breath hitched in his throat, our lips parted ways, and he rested his forehead against mine. “Mena,” he groaned, barely able to speak.
“Phin,” I answered him, equally as breathless. I’d succeeded in unbuttoning his trousers and was about to work my way to the zipper when his hands left their place on my inner thighs, stopping me.
“Mena, we can’t.”
He stood up, lifting me with him and setting me down on my chair. Confused, I rose and pulled my dress down as he turned around to button his trousers and shirt.
“Okay, then let’s go back to your place.”
Sighing, he turned to face me. “No, Mena, I meant we can’t do this at all.” His face reflected nothing of what must have been on his mind. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”
“What?” I asked, confusion and pain overcoming me. “Wh-Why? Did I do something wrong?”
He paused at the curtain separating the box from the hall. “No,” he answered me, turning back around. His expression had softened, finally revealing the pain he was trying to conceal. “You did nothing wrong. It was me. I should have stopped it. I shouldn’t have let things get carried away.”
“So, you regret what just happened, then?” Humiliation overtook my confusion, and as much as I tried to fight them, tears were steadily forming at the corner of my eyes, though I wasn’t sure whether they were from the figurative punch to the chest Phineas had just delivered or from embarrassment.
“Mena, I’m your boss; and because I’m your boss, things have to remain professional between us. There can’t be anything more than that.”
It was at precisely that point that pain turned into anger, thinking about the last couple of months with Phineas and all the mixed signals that would speak to the contrary of what he’d just said to me. In particular, there was one pervasive thought that jumped into my head. One that I knew he couldn’t explain.
“How about we play a drinking game, then, since it would seem you believe that to be more appropriate professional behavior?”
He shook his head. “Mena, please.”
“Great. I’ll start. This one is called Never Have I Ever. I’ll say something I’ve never done, and if you’ve done it, then you lose.”
“We’re not playing anymore absurd drinking games.” He turned around and began heading toward the curtain again.
“Okay, here goes. Never have I ever lied to my employee, telling her that I didn’t see a compromising photograph of her when, oops, I actually did.”
Phineas suddenly paused in mid-stride, turning around once more to face me. The expression on his face reminded me of what mine had probably looked like when my mother once caught me trying to sneak out of the house through my bedroom window when I was in high school.
“You knew the whole time?”
“You know, I’m a little insulted that you didn’t think I could tell the difference between an unread text message and one that had been opened.” Tears burned my eyes, angering me further. I didn’t like crying in general, let alone crying in public in front of my boss, no less. And my anger only acted as an accelerant, igniting a viciousness
within me that I was afraid I couldn’t contain.
“Mena …” Phineas furrowed his brow as he took a step toward me, stopping short when I held out the palm of my hand.
“No. It’s my turn to ask the questions.” I took a step back, avoiding his advances. “Why? Why lie to me? You could have just as easily deleted the message and told me you never received it. Why even show me your phone at all?”
“You’re right. I saw the text shortly before I called you into my office that morning and knew immediately it had been sent by mistake. As soon as I realized what had happened, I closed the message. I didn’t tell you what really happened because I didn’t want to make things awkward between us. You were dating Peter. I w-was … am your boss. I just didn’t want to complicate things.”
“But you did, anyway.” My senses told me that he still wasn’t telling me the whole story. He was hiding something else. “I guess I’ll see you back at the office.” I pushed past him to head out the exit.
“Wait,” he pleaded. “Please. At least let me take you home.”
“If it’s all the same with you, I’d rather be alone right now. I’ll find my own way home.”
*****
It was still relatively early in the evening when I walked through our apartment door. As I hung up my coat, I noticed Jo from out of the corner of my eye, immediately feeling compelled to unload on her about the cluster fuck of emotions I’d just gone through.
“If I ever express the desire to go out with Phineas Drake again, remind me about this conversation. Tonight was frustrating to the point of infuriating … but also beautiful and an absolute mess, and … hot. Oh my God, Jo, I can’t even describe the way he touched me. It was just so incredible, until he turned it off just like that.” Punctuating the last sentence with a finger snap, I continued, “I swear, if it’s possible for a woman to get blue balls, I definitely had—”
I hadn’t been looking at Jo while I was talking, but it was clear that I should have been, for the hurried hand gestures she was making were a clear indicator that I should have quit talking before I had even started. Jo made a gesture with her eyes in the direction of the living room, telling me that we weren’t alone. Casting a confused glance in her direction, I walked into the living room to find two familiar women sitting on our couch.
When Stars Collide Page 21
