by Alexx Andria
I guess one night had been enough.
My cell rang. It was Tara.
I wiped at my running nose before answering. “Hey.”
“What time is your flight?” she asked, excitement in her tone. “I want to make sure I’m there to pick you up on time. SFO can be tricky to navigate.”
I swallowed through my silent tears. “Um, yeah, I fly in tomorrow afternoon, 3 p.m.”
“I really wish you would’ve taken the midnight flight,” she groused. “I would’ve picked you up even that late.”
“You have two kids. You don’t need to be running into the city that late. Besides, I have some people I wanted to say goodbye to before leaving.”
Tara understood but she was ready to see me. It’d been years since I’d been home. My twin — we weren’t identical but we were bonded in weird ways — was practically vibrating with the need to feel me standing in the same room.
I know, weird. I’d long since stopped trying to explain the phenomenon to people.
“I miss you, too, Tara. I’ll be home tomorrow. One more day isn’t going to kill you.”
“I know,” Tara acknowledged with only a small sigh. “Mom and dad are excited to see you, too.”
I wasn’t so sure about but I wasn’t going to start that argument already. Tara was the golden child, the good twin; I was the fuck-up, the demon twin.
Maybe I could buy their affection. I had enough to splurge on a cruise or something for them. I could show them that I wasn’t always going to be a drain on their retirement.
“Are you okay?” Tara asked, sensing my disquiet. “You haven’t changed your mind, right?”
“Tara, all of my worldly possessions are currently sitting in a moving truck downstairs and my flight is nonrefundable. I’d say it’s a little late to have cold feet now.”
“Okay,” Tara said, but I could almost see her brow creasing.
“Stop that,” I teased. “You’re going to need Botox way before your time.”
Tara laughed and I knew she was rubbing that little spot on her forehead. “You’re right. I’ll stop worrying. I have your room all ready for you. Bubba down at U-Store said he’s got a unit for rent. As soon as your stuff arrives, we can take it down until you can find a place.”
I murmured my thanks but I knew I wasn’t going to stay long in our hometown.
As beautiful as it was with its crisp mountain air and the whisper of the pines, it wasn’t where my heart could remain.
Again, I didn’t feel the need to share that information with Tara. There was no sense in ruining my homecoming before I’d even hit California.
“Even Ryan is excited to see you,” she added and I almost laughed. My sister’s husband had never been a fan of mine, saying that I was a bad influence on his wife.
Probably because I made no effort to hide the fact that I thought he treated Tara like a ‘50s era housewife and I never missed a chance to encourage her to step into the 21st century by telling her hubby to get off his ass and help out with the kids once in a while. Yeah…I’m sure he was super excited to have his troublesome sister-in-law under his roof. “Great, we can debate politics. I know how much he loves conversations with a strong, independent woman.”
“Try not to pick a fight with him, please,” Tara pleaded and I relented with a sigh. “He really does like you, it’s just…”
“It’s okay, he doesn’t have to like me, sissy. And I don’t have to like him. We will both be polite, okay?”
Tara knew that was as good as it would get. Likely, she’d already had this conversation with her dumb husband and he’d made some asinine comment as usual and Tara felt the need to cover for him. Hence, the overt and obvious lie about him being excited to see me.
Ahhh, the politics of family, right?
“Awesome,” Tara said, relieved. “I will see you tomorrow. Love you!”
“Love you, too,” I returned before clicking off. Living under the same roof with Ryan was going to be a test of my patience. I’d love for Tara to wake up and realize that she could do so much better than the douchenozzle she was married to but Tara seemed to love him so I tried to bite my tongue.
Most times.
I could only pray the strength in my jaw was stronger than the speed of my tongue.
Otherwise, I might just start World War III over a serving of mashed potatoes.
21
After locking my former apartment and sliding the key under the door for the landlord, I walked down the stairs for the last time.
Dougie, the friendly drug dealer, poked his head out to wish me a fond farewell, which I thought was sweet, given he sold drugs for a living.
“Gonna miss you girl,” he hollered out to me and I responded with a wave over my shoulder.
“Try not to get arrested,” I hollered back. “Orange is not your color, buddy.”
I heard Dougie chuckle before returning to his apartment.
I’d just cleared the final step when I saw a familiar face awaiting me at the front doors.
I didn’t know his name but I recognized him as the man in Gage’s conference meeting who’d been amused by my theatrics.
He stood, checking out my apartment complex like he was interested in the shabby, run-down state of things but still careful not to let anything touch his expensive leather shoes.
“Looking for a new investment?” I asked dryly.
“Always.” He flashed a bright, killer smile and those blue eyes sparkled like the ocean. Not to put too fine of a point on it but he was hot. He extended a hand with a warm smile. “You must be…Mari Jones?”
“And you are?” I countered, neither confirming nor denying his assumption. I’d lived in New York long enough to know that strangers knowing your name was cause for immediate suspicion.
“Reece Buchanan, at your service,” he answered, his bright smile never dimming. “I’ve been looking for you for quite a while.”
“Why?”
“Can I persuade you to enjoy lunch with me?” he asked.
“No, you cannot.” I sighed, wondering what the man’s agenda was. “Just get to the point of your seeking me out. I have things to do and a plane to catch.”
“If you knew my wife, you’d know that I love a direct woman. I believe the first time we met, she basically told me to fuck off.”
“And yet, somehow you managed to marry her. I’m sure that story is wildly entertaining but I still don’t know what it has to do with me.”
“Right. I’ll cut to the chase.” He shoved his hands into his trousers, a move that reminded me of Gage. I swallowed the instant lump in my throat and narrowed my gaze with irritation. Not specifically at Reece but at myself for still suffering any sort of pain over Gage Donnelly. “We have a mutual friend.”
“Not likely.”
“That day you burst into the conference room, all piss and vinegar, I gotta say, that was the most exciting meeting that board room had ever seen. I’m pretty sure some of those shareholders actually pissed themselves. You were pretty fired up.”
My cheeks flared with heat. I wish I hadn’t done that. “Well, it was a mistake. Thanks for reminding me.” I maneuvered around him but he followed me onto the street. Exasperated, I growled, “What are you doing? Don’t make me call the cops.”
“I’m making a real mess of this,” he muttered, chagrined. Shoving his hand through his artfully mussed hair, he admitted, “Jesus, I used to be more charming but I think marriage has dulled my edge. Look, I know it’s none of my business and I know that Gage would murder me if he knew I was talking to you at all but…everything you said about him…it was spot on.”
I was ready to leave Reece in the street but damn him, if he hadn’t plucked at a raw nerve. I turned slowly. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…I think Gage really does love you, he just doesn’t trust himself not to hurt you.”
I tried not to recall how shattered I’d felt that day when he’d coldly suggested I be his full-time whore,
not his girlfriend. I swallowed the hard lump. “You’re wrong,” I said. “Gage doesn’t know how to love.”
“No, actually, deep down, he’s all squishy and mushy. But he’s got some demons, as I’m sure you’ve already figured out. He doesn’t want you to get caught in the crossfire of his issues, so he pushed you away deliberately.”
“Well, it worked.” I wasn’t going to get my hopes up again only to have them obliterated. “I wish him the best of luck in his solitude.” I started to walk away but something stopped me. I returned to face him, confused. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because Gage is my friend and he’s spiraling. It’s worse than I’ve ever seen. It’s always bad on the anniversary but…this…what he’s doing now…I’m afraid he won’t come back from.”
Grudging concern overrode my anger. “What do you mean? What anniversary?”
Reece’s jaw firmed, as if he were struggling with betraying his friend’s trust and doing what needed to be done. “Gage is very private,” he started but I just shook my head, changing my mind about knowing.
“Yeah, so I’ve heard. Don’t bother. Whatever he’s going through, he doesn’t want my help. Besides…you can’t help someone who doesn’t want help and from where I’m standing…Gage wants to wallow in his misery.”
“Gage punishes himself for what happened, even though he was just a kid. He didn’t grow up like me…he grew up dirt poor with a sociopathic father. It’s a fucking miracle Gage grew up to be relatively sane much less successful. But the truth is, Gage is driven by that need to prove his father wrong, to make up for that one night.”
“I don’t understand…”
Reece handed me a business card with a handwritten phone number on it. “This is Gage’s number. Call him. He needs you.”
I stared at the scrawled phone number. A part of me wanted to tuck it into my pocket for safe keeping, another part wanted me to rip it to shreds. In the end, I did neither. I simply returned the card to Reece, saying with a fateful shake of my head, “I won’t call him.” But I added this, “If you’re his friend…get him true help. I’m not qualified to help him through whatever he’s going through. If I tried, he’d just destroy me. I can’t let him do that a second time. I’m sorry.”
Reece must’ve sensed I wasn’t going to budge because he nodded in defeat and perhaps, understanding. “I’m sorry for wasting your time,” he said, resigned. “Have a safe flight.”
I accepted his polite courtesy and I turned on my heel to practically run away before I could change my mind, grab the card and run to Gage’s rescue.
If Gage was going under, he had to find the will to rescue himself. Otherwise, he would drown with him anyone who tried to help.
Tears stung my eyes but I didn’t turn around.
I didn’t stop.
22
Home was exactly as I remembered.
There was a stale comfort in the unchanged landscape but after living in the city for five years, the quiet, slow pace of my hometown was almost maddening.
I’d been home a week and I was itching to leave.
Tara sensed my restlessness.
After dinner, she joined me on the patio to kill a bottle of chardonnay.
“Care for some company?” she asked.
I smiled. “I never say no to wine.”
She smiled and poured two glasses, handing over mine. “You’re different,” Tara said as she sipped her wine. “More mature.”
I nodded. “Thanks. Life has a way of doing that to you.” Failure does, too. I cast an inquisitive smile her way. “Are you happy?”
“Most days.”
It was an honest answer. No one was happy 24/7 without meds. “The kids are great,” I said. “Doesn’t make me want any but…they are pretty cute.”
Tara chuckled. “Yep. Pretty great. I love being a mom.”
I sighed as I sipped my own wine. “How are we even related, much less twins?”
At that she laughed because I’m sure she’d wondered the same thing many times. She sobered and asked, “Mari, what really happened in New York? And don’t give me some bullshit answer about this new job that paid you a lot of money. Be straight with me for once. I promise, I won’t judge.”
She would judge but I wouldn’t hold it against her. Truth was, I wanted to talk to someone about Gage but I didn’t trust anyone to share those kinds of intimate details with. Trusting my twin was my only option.
I took a bracing sip for courage, then started with, “Well, it was sort of a job and it did pay a lot of money. It just wasn’t a consulting gig.”
“What was it?”
“To be honest, I don’t know.” Trying to unravel the events that led up to Gage and I fusing together in the most unlikely way…I didn’t know how to tell the story in a way that made sense. “But I fell in love with a man who had warned me from the beginning that our arrangement was temporary.”
God, that still hurt. When would this fucking pain end?
“What do you mean?”
I exhaled a long breath. “A man came into the bar and asked to buy me a drink; I refused. He came back the next night, bought out the bar and made me have a drink with him.”
“Oh my God, Mari…did you call the police? Did he hurt you?”
“No, it wasn’t like that. He was a gentleman—“
“Gentlemen don’t coerce women into having a drink with them when they’ve already been told no.”
Fair point. “Well, I agreed to the drink. And then he offered me a shit ton of money if I would spend the night with him. He warned me that it would be temporary and that when it ended, he expected no entanglements.”
“That’s awful.” Tara wrinkled her nose in disgust. “What a pig.”
“At first I thought so, too. But there was something about him that I found intriguing and so I said yes. Honestly, I thought it was a joke until the money showed up in my bank account.”
Tara hesitated but curiosity was eating her alive. “How much?”
“A ridiculous amount. A lot of zeroes.”
Tara swallowed, her eyes wide. “Then what happened?”
We fucked like monkeys, I came harder than I’ve ever in my life and somewhere along the way, I fell in love with the unavailable bastard. I grimaced, knowing Tara would fall over in a faint if I shared that much. Instead, I admitted, “I caught feelings. He wasn’t a bad guy. He was actually funny and good-looking. Even romantic.”
“Then why did he have to buy his company?”
“I don’t know. I guess he had issues. Doesn’t like to get close to people.”
“Talk about a commitment-phone.”
“You have no idea,” I agreed dryly. “Anyway, it truly turned out to be temporary and since I finally had the money to leave the city, I did. And here I am.”
Tara took a rushed drink of her wine, shaking her head. “You were, like, a high-end call girl for the night.” I thought I heard judgment in her tone until she said, “I’m so fucking jealous.”
I stared. “Jealous?”
Maybe it was the wine talking but Tara’s wistful expression was unlike any I’d ever seen on my sister. “I’m guessing the sex was fantastic.”
“It was,” I admitted, watching Tara with something akin to shock. “I came so many times…I lost count.”
Tara groaned with envy. “I miss orgasms.”
I blinked. Who are you and where is my sister? I recovered to ask tentatively, “Things okay with you and Ryan?”
“They’re fine. We have sex once a month or so. It’s okay, I guess.”
“You don’t cum?”
She shrugged. “Not with him.”
“Tara!”
“Oh, calm down, I’m not cheating on Ryan, I use a vibrator. Actually, I’ve burned through three already. Literally.” She glanced at her palm, showing me a small burn mark. “The last one caught fire. Scorched me pretty good. Could’ve caught the whole house on fire. Imagine trying to explain that to the fire dep
artment.”
“Holy shit,” I giggled, loving this side of my twin. “And Ryan has no idea that you’re not hitting that O?”
“Ryan was never a very enthusiastic lover,” Tara said with a sigh. “I didn’t marry him for that reason. Ryan is stable with a good, solid income. Our kids want for nothing. That matters more than having an orgasm during sex.”
“Honey, that sounds like the saddest justification I’ve ever heard. Have you tried talking to him?” Good God, was I channeling Dr. Phil or Dr. Ruth? The thought of Ryan giving it to my sister made me want to puke. Ryan just wasn’t sexy. At all.
Nothing like Gage.
I suppressed a shudder but Tara caught the subtle motion and called me out. “You’re thinking of sex with your money man right now! Oh my god, please tell me…what did he do? What made it so amazing?”
I laughed, shaking my head as I reached for the wine bottle. I was going to need more liquor for this conversation. “Okay, so…for one he was fucking dirty as hell…” and I proceeded to tell my sister in lurid detail how thoroughly Gage had fucked me, how I’d let him fuck me in the ass and how I’d loved it.
By the end, we’d finished off the wine and Tara’s eyes had glazed over. I wanted to laugh and say, “You’re welcome, Ryan,” because Tara looked like she was going to go upstairs and mount her husband whether he wanted her to or not.
But she paused a moment, all wistfulness gone from her expression as she said, “Connections like that are rare. I’m happy and sad that it happened for you. Happy because you got to experience it; sad because, in the end, it didn’t work out.” She leaned forward to grasp my face between her hands, holding my gaze. “But if you’re lucky enough to get a second chance…fucking take it. Otherwise, nothing in life or love, will ever measure up, ever again.” She punctuated her advice with a soft kiss on my lips before saying, “Goodnight, sissy,” and returning to the house.
Presumably to fuck the shit out of her stupid, clueless husband.
Tonight, I decided, I would sleep with earbuds.
