The Real Fling

by R. Silver

  Unfazed, Mason chuckled. "It's a good thing I know that you are just mad at the whole world or I would start to take all this behavior personally. I want you to just hear me out. I have known you for a really long time and I have never seen you this torn up about a woman. The way I see it, you have two options. One, move on and start by having a great time with those girls that are throwing themselves at you. Two, find a way to explain to Samantha why you couldn't or wouldn't be honest with her. Trevor, you have to believe that if what you guys have is the real deal, she'll forgive you."

  Trevor held his head in his hands. "Thanks, Mason. Sorry, I have been such a dick recently. You may be right. I am pretty miserable. Izzie even yelled at me today."

  "It's fine, Trevor." Mason stood and finished his scotch. "Let's get you back to your place before you pass out. By the way, you've always been a dick."

  Chapter 21

  I dragged my luggage into my apartment and shut the door. I yanked the drapes open to let the winter sunshine in and cracked one of the windows open to drive away the musty closed smell. It felt good to be in my own home again after a month on the road. Teaching and performing for so many people had challenged my abilities but I felt stronger for it. Elsa had emailed to me reviews of the album and my concerts and all were positive.

  I should have been so happy. This is what I had wanted for my career - to perform and to show the world the depths that music could take us to. Yet, Trevor continued to haunt me. The time away from Manhattan had not erased my need for him. His name, his face, his touch. Try as I might, any spare moment, his image would pop up. Even in my sleep, I dreamt about him. When I closed my eyes, I could feel his lips upon mine and feel his hands caress my body making me crave him. I had awoken more than once stoking my breasts and between my legs dreaming that Trevor was making love to me.

  For the first two weeks we were separated, my phone was inundated by calls and texts from him. I steadfastly ignored and deleted every call and message. Then, it stopped. Perversely, tears coursed down my face the first day that there was not a single missed call or text from Trevor.

  Maybe, I had not been entirely fair. I had not even given him a chance to explain but what other explanation could there be. If he were not involved with someone else, why couldn't he trust me? Why had he shut me out? So, around and around my mind went trying to understand a puzzle that might not have a solution.

  "This is just the thing to lift your spirits. Shopping for a black tie event requires the utmost concentration and effort,” Claire hugged me when we met in front of Bergdorf Goodman. Every New Year's Eve, the Asian-American professional society held a charity ball to raise scholarships for needy children. It was the must attend event of the season. Break up or no break up, I had to go. My parents were major sponsors and had a reserved table.

  As I waited in the dressing room, Claire brought in gown after gown for me to try. Although red would be a popular color since it symbolizes luck in most Asian cultures, I went for classic black. Finally, we agreed on a black Armani one shoulder gown that clung to my body down to my hips and fell gracefully to the ground.

  "Now for shoes," declared Claire. She ran the sales assistant ragged requesting nearly every evening shoe in my size.

  "Claire, I am pretty sure I have shoes that I can wear. Honestly, I appreciate your help but I don't even have a date. Who am I impressing? My parents?" I stood teetering in a pair of five inch platform sling backs. "I'll fall flat on my face in these."

  "Ohhh, but they are so sexy! You have to get them. These shoes absolutely go with your dress." Claire pranced around me completely oblivious to the stares we were attracting.

  I sighed. "Fine. I think you want me to get these so you can borrow them." I handed the sales person my Bergdorf charge card.

  Claire grinned as she picked up one of our bags. "It never occurred to me but what an excellent idea."

  After a long workout at the gym, I slowly walked back to my apartment building. On the sidewalk, people were bundled up for the brisk winter chill and moved purposefully as if they all had somewhere important to be. I wondered if all the people around me had wonderful plans for New Year's Eve. I was dreading going to the gala tonight. I might as well have had a giant L, for loser, tattooed on my forehead to announce to the world that, I, Samantha Lin, had no date for New Year's Eve and probably would have to settle for a peck on the cheek from my father to ring in the New Year.

  "Ms. Lin, I have a package for you." The doorman, Paul, greeted me as I stepped into the warm lobby that was festooned with holiday decorations. "Careful, it is bulky. And, if I don't see you later, Happy New Year!"

  I wrapped my arms around the large flat and rectangular parcel covered in brown paper. "Thanks, Paul. I wish you a Happy New Year as well." As I made my way to the elevator, I scanned the package for a return address. It was unmarked. When I got into my apartment, I placed the package on the kitchen table and carefully pulled back the crinkly wrapping.

  I gasped when I pulled back the paper. It was a framed set of two black and white photographs. The image on the right was Trevor with his half-smile, bare-chested with me in profile, eyes closed kissing him on the cheek. In the image on the left, I was looking into the camera laughing with Trevor leaning over me kissing me on the top of my head. I remembered that last day we were together when we had played with his camera and timer. We had been so happy.

  I glanced down on the floor. An envelope with my name handwritten on the front sat on the floor with the brown parcel paper. With shaking hands, I tore open the envelope.

  Dear Samantha - I hope you like the photos. They made me smile when I printed them out and framed them for you. The photos remind me of all the good things we have had together.

  I wish I could have done things differently. I wish I could have trusted myself to believe in you. I wish I could tell you all I want to say in person. I wish I could hold you again in my arms.

  Penny is my mother. She has poorly controlled depression and she is an alcoholic. The times that I had to leave suddenly were always due to some trouble she had gotten herself into. Two months ago, she got drunk and broke her leg. I finally had to get her admitted to an inpatient facility to treat her depression and alcoholism. Although she had agreed to it, she fought me every step of the way when the plans became real.

  I think you overheard me arguing with her about the place she was going to. I didn’t want to tell you about Penny because it was something about me that was ugly. I was worried that you would see me differently if you knew that I was going to put my mother in a proverbial loony bin.

  But, after you left, I realized that telling you would have been worth the risk. Maybe you would have left me once you knew. The way I handled things made losing you a certainty.

  It is probably too much to ask you if we have a chance together. I really meant it when I told you that the best part of my days was when I was with you. Anyway, you deserved the truth. I will always be grateful that we had our time together. It was the best dating fling I have ever had.

  Yours, Trevor

  Stunned, I stared at the letter. I had been so very wrong about Trevor. Michael had made me distrustful and I had made Trevor pay for another man’s faults. Waves of humiliation and regret washed over me. I had not even had the decency to answer his calls. I had created my own nightmare and refused to wake up to learn the truth.

  Chapter 22

  "Samantha, you should have worn a heavier wrap. You are going to freeze when we get out of the limo," my mother scolded as our car pulled up to the New Museum of Contemporary Art. The building was lit and scores of guests were exiting town cars and limos in front of the building.

  My father chuckled. "Mei Hua, leave the poor girl alone. We are going to be outside for thirty seconds. Sammy, you look so pretty tonight. You remind me so much of your mother when we first met." I flashed a smile at my father as he patted me on the knee. "Of course, I didn't know how bossy she was at the time because her parents didn't
let her say too much when we were introduced."

  Wagging her finger at both of us, my mother laughed, "Okay, I will leave you alone. I wouldn't have to be so pushy if the two of you would take better care of yourselves." The limo came to a stop and an attendant opened the door. Pulling her fur closer around her, my mother exited the car leaving my father and I to trail after her.

  As I made my way to one of the several bars, I nodded hello to people. I recognized a fair number of the guests as business associates of my parents and some as school mates from the tedious days of Chinese school. My family was scattered about the Sky Room that provided a dramatic backdrop for the evening. With a vodka tonic in hand, I began to wander back to our table. Despite the festive mood of the crowd, I was feeling anything but happy and sociable. The words of Trevor's letter kept coming back to me and I continued to wonder if we could get back together. Sensible Sam gloomily told me in my mental conversation that I had hurt the man too badly. Irrational Sam begged me to call Trevor, find him, and grovel for forgiveness.

  "Sweetie, you look much too serious for a New Year's Eve party,” Grace placed a kiss on my cheek. My sister was stunning in a floor length Donna Karan gown in a rich red that made her skin glow. "I am glad you decided to come to the gala. You need to get out and have a distraction." She pulled me up from my chair to look at the silent auction items lining the hallway outside the ballroom.

  "Grace, I was totally wrong about Trevor," I blurted out to her. She looked up from a basket full of bath products that people had already listed bids on. "The woman that I thought was the 'other woman' is his mother and she is sick. I completely misread everything. I am so ashamed at how I reacted and treated him."

  Grace turned to face me, placing her hands on my shoulders. "Sam, do you think you love Trevor?" Her face was etched in concern. "If you love him, you need to call him and apologize. When people truly love one another, they don't have to be embarrassed or ashamed about apologizing. Think about it, sweetie." Our conversation was cut short when one of Grace's friends wrapped my sister in a big hug to greet her.

  The evening dragged on. I wandered to the bar for my third vodka tonic when I heard a familiar voice behind me. "Samantha, I should have known you would be here." Michael looked at me as if he had just eaten something distasteful. "You look well. I suppose you are here with your parents or have you found another man? If you have a date, I'll have to find him and give him my condolences." I silently wondered how a man could be wearing such an expensive tuxedo and still be so ugly.

  "No," I sighed. "I do not have a date tonight. Judging by your wine glasses, I am guessing you do." I turned to walk away with my cocktail in hand.

  "Yes, I do have a date. Actually, she is my fiancée. I suppose I should thank you for leaving me, Sam. Monica is everything I want in a wife and I wouldn't have had a chance to meet her if I were still saddled with you," Michael bit out his words bitterly.

  I shook my head at him. "Yeah, well good luck with that. It is nice to know that things don't change, Michael. You are still an asshole." With that, I turned on my five inch heels and returned to my table.

  Trevor shivered as he walked to the three blocks to Mason's building. He truly would have preferred to stay at home and drink his scotch. Mason had pestered him over the phone, "If you are going to sit at home and get drunk, you may as well come over to my place and do the same thing. I have some great food and an open bar. We'll all watch television and laugh at the shots of the drunken tourists in Times Square freezing their asses off."

  Mason's condo was already buzzing with activity when Trevor walked in. The usual artsy crowd that Mason hung out with was gathered around the food and a few people were out on the balcony smoking. As Trevor squeezed through two people in a deep discussion about percentages with agents, he bumped hard into a slender blonde. When she turned, a deep frown creased her face. "Hey, Claire. Sorry that I bumped you," muttered Trevor.

  "Well, I would like to have a minute to talk to you and, maybe, slug you in the stomach," Claire announced. She shoved him away from the crowd, waving her finger at him. "Samantha is my best friend and that ex-husband of hers cheated on her. Do you know what happened when she confronted him? He told her that it was none of her concern." Claire crooked her fingers in the air in the shape of quotation marks. "Do those words sound familiar? Let me refresh your memory. You said the same thing when she caught you talking to your wife, or girlfriend, or whatever." Claire took a step closer to Trevor and poked his chest with her finger. "That girl is so sweet; she couldn't just have a fling with you. No, she had to fall in love with you and, you arrogant ass, you broke her heart. Hope you are happy!" She stabbed her finger in his chest with each word to make her point.

  Anger and confusion flashed in Trevor's grey eyes. Pulling himself up with his hands jammed in his pockets, he towered over Claire. "Listen, I do not know what you are talking about. I do not have a wife or girlfriend. Penny is my mother and I didn't want to tell Samantha that I was arguing with Penny about sending her to rehab." He pulled his hands out of his pockets and ran them through his waves of brown hair. "And, it wasn't a fling for me. It was the best thing that ever happened to me. So, no, I am not happy."

  Claire's bright red lips formed an O and tears brimmed in her eyes. "Oh no! Trevor, this has been a horrible misunderstanding. You need to go tell her right now." Now, she was pushing him towards the door. "She is at this Asian-American gala at the New Museum of Contemporary Art. Go find her, right now."

  "I can't go like this and they won't let me in," growled Trevor. He was too massive for Claire to push any farther.

  "What the hell!" Claire stomped her foot. "Do you want to fix this? Go right now."

  "Samantha was right. You are very pushy." An exasperated Trevor opened the door and turned to face Claire. "Thanks."

  Chapter 23

  Only two more hours, I chanted it like a mantra in my head. I rested my cheek on my hand as I watched couples dance in the middle of the ballroom. My mother had been right. I was an old maid. A smile played on my lips as I recalled that evening Trevor and I had spent babysitting my nephews and how hard Trevor had laughed when Jimmy revealed what my mother had said about me. My vision was unfocussed thinking about how Trevor had kissed me that night.

  "Samantha, would you honor me with a dance?" I snapped out of my reverie. Richard was standing in front of me with his hand extended. His cheeks were flushed from drinking and his eyes looked big and surprised without his glasses.

  "Where are your glasses?" I blurted out.

  Richard beamed. "Oh, I see you noticed. For special occasions, I wear my contacts." His hand was still extended. My eyes scanned the room for someone to rescue me from this predicament. It was just not my night. My mother appeared at Richard's side. "Mrs. Lin, so nice to see you. I was just asking your beautiful daughter for a dance."

  "Of course, she would love to dance with you." My mother hauled me up to my feet. Awkward. With my five inch heels, I stood a good three inches taller than Richard. Groaning, I took his hand and followed him out to the dance floor. I was certain the night could not get any worse.

  Richard's hands grasped my waist and I placed my hands lightly on his shoulders. I felt like slouching because upright I could easily see over his head. The band had taken a break and Maroon 5 Payphone was playing. Richard's head bobbed up and down to the beat and his feet tapped out a completely different rhythm. As he pulled me side to side, I was unsure how to move - dance to the music or follow his erratic personal cadence.

  My night was getting worse. Much worse. "I love Maroon 5," exclaimed Richard. Yup, much worse. Richard began crooning the words to the song. "All those fairy tales are full of shit, one more fucking love song, I'll be sick."

  I pulled away from Richard. "I am so sorry, Richard. I don't feel well. Please excuse me," I stuttered. I ran from the dance floor, out of the ballroom and into the hallway.

  I could not stand another minute of this. I had to leave. I dashed
to the coat check and grabbed my clutch and wrap. Waiting at the bank of double elevators, I willed it to come quicker. Finally the two elevator doors opened and I jumped in pressing the L button for lobby.

  Trevor sped up his walking to a brisk jog. Mason's condo was only a few blocks from the New Museum. There was no point in trying to catch a taxi on New Year's Eve. As he approached the building, he could see through the clear windows of the Sky Room couples dancing.

  "Excuse me, sir. This is a private party. Do you have an invitation?" An attendant at the door stopped Trevor.

  Trevor yanked his wallet from his pocket. "Forgot my invitation but I am sure you can help me out," he palmed the man a wad of hundred dollar bills. Glancing at his hand, the attendant swung the door open.

  "Enjoy the party, sir."

  The elevator doors opened to the eighth floor landing. Trevor could hear Maroon 5 playing. With his sure stride, he went into the ballroom. Everyone was in tuxedoes and evening gowns. He searched the crowd and tried to listen for Samantha's voice. His heart had been pounding with anticipation that he would see her. Damn, she isn't here. Did she leave? I should go.Dejected with his shoulders slumped, he turned and left the ballroom. He took the stairs two at a time to the ground floor and pushed through the exit. At this point, there was no point in going back to Mason's place. Trevor began walking towards his loft, yanking his collar up to stay warm.

  I hated it when my mother was right. This wrap was doing nothing to keep me warm and my feet were killing me in these damn shoes. What was I thinking? There was no way I would be able to get a taxi so close to midnight on New Year's Eve. It was going to be a long walk home.

  An electronics store had a brightly lit display with an animated mouse playing a miniature piano. An electric train circled the piano. Above the montage, a wide screen television showed coverage of Time's Square. I stopped to watch. The camera panned to couples hugging and kissing. The ball hadn't dropped yet but confetti was already flying through the air. I knew I was feeling sorry for myself but it seemed like the entire world was celebrating except for me.