Lace and Paint (True Colors Book 1)

by Ally Sky

  Now, Talia, you need to muster all the smiles you have in your arsenal.

  I grind out my cigarette on the pavement.

  It’s just a game. And if I stammer the entire evening, it won’t work. I want to drive him crazy. This may just do the job.

  A small grin appears on my face. I’m definitely going to drive him crazy. And confuse the shit out of him. He’s so confident in the knowledge that I want him. So this evening I’m going to make him feel insecure. Let him sit there and wonder who I’m with and what I’m doing with him. He deserves it, after kicking me out of his bed and sending me home to sleep—alone—in my bed.

  I go back into the pub and sit down on the sofa next to Danny. John smiles at me. I smile back. My heart pounds. Barring surprises tonight, I’m going to put on one hell of a show.

  “So what are you drinking?” Danny smiles at me drunkenly, and I assume the empty glass of beer on the table is his.

  “Nothing.” I take my phone out of my bag. “I’m waiting for someone.” My heart is going wild in my chest.

  I peek at Ben, who raises a curious eyebrow. “A business meeting in a pub?” He smirks.

  “No.” I don’t give away any details and just give a mean, little grin. Now he’s really curious, his green eyes wide with surprise.

  He’d better wipe that look off his face before someone notices what’s going on.

  The conversation at the table is of no interest to me. I just keep glancing at my phone, pretending I’m waiting for an important call.

  Ben scrutinizes me. It seems as if time is standing still, but Tom said he lives close by.

  Fifteen minutes later, according to plan, my phone rings. Showtime.

  “Hi,” I answer softly on purpose, aware that at least one curious guy is sitting across the table, trying to eavesdrop. “Where are you...I’m coming…” I end the call and get up from the sofa.

  “Excuse me,” I say, feeling a storm brewing inside me. I give Ben a final smile.

  Talia, you’re mental.

  I head toward the door, where Tom is standing, searching for me. I give him a genuine smile. He looks like such a nice guy, not that it really matters, I need him for a completely different purpose.

  I know Ben is watching my every move from the other side of the pub.

  “Hi.” I give him a kiss on the cheek. “Should we sit at the bar?”

  “Is he here?” Tom asks with a huge grin.

  “Yes, going crazy in his chair. What are you drinking?”

  We get two seats by the bar where Ben can see us.

  “Beer. What are you drinking?”

  “Red wine.”

  “I’m buying. Let’s at least play the game until the end. There’s no way I would let a girl pay for me on the first date. Maybe next time we meet.” He laughs.

  Next time we meet? No, he knows exactly why he’s here.

  Tom orders our drinks. I run a hand through my hair on purpose, ruffling my curls. Everyone knows that girls play with their hair when they’re interested in a man.

  “So, Mr. Investment Advisor, what were you busy doing this evening before I disturbed you with my schemes?” I giggle.

  “Let’s see, it’s Thursday evening. I was getting ready to go out and tear the city apart.”

  I stare at him in surprise.

  He sees it and laughs again. “Not really!”

  Very good, laugh. It probably looks great from the side. Or terrible, depending on who you ask.

  I laugh with him. Oh, this is going even better than I’d planned.

  “Just spending an evening at home in front of the television.”

  “Good thing I called, then.” I smile, wondering if Ben is still watching us.

  “Yes, no doubt this sounded more interesting.”

  Our drinks arrive and Tom raises his beer. “To your plan.”

  “Cheers.” I raise my glass and take a sip of the wine Tom chose for me. It’s great.

  We chat at the bar. Tom tells me about his job at the bank and it sounds a lot less boring than I imagined. I tell him about Israel and how I miss the summer. But my thoughts are at the corner of the pub, wondering what’s going on with my man.

  Tom does a wonderful job and makes me laugh and, the truth is, I’m enjoying his company. I learn that he’s twenty-eight, has lived in London his entire life, is an only child to parents who are desperate to see him married and producing some grandchildren. I tell him that on one of the sofas in the corner is my older brother Danny, who probably hasn’t taken his eagle eyes off of us, and Tom laughs when I tell him about the inquisition that will be waiting for me at home.

  We finish our drinks and I restrain myself from stealing a peek at the corner. I don’t want it to be too obvious that the only thing I really care about is my man and not this guy by my side.

  “Well,” I say nervously, “I think we should leave, but before we do, I have a weird request.”

  “Weirder than your phone call?” He chuckles. “You’re full of surprises.”

  “Yes, I need you to go to the toilet.”

  Okay, that sounded ridiculous even to me.

  “To the toilet?” He’s taken aback.

  “Yes, I’m pretty sure that the guy sitting over there, in the corner, wants to vehemently protest your presence here, and I want to hear him say it.”

  “You’re awful,” Tom laughs, “but I respect the requests of nice ladies. I’m going to the loo. And then we’ll leave?”

  “Yes.” I nod in agreement. He cooperates perfectly as he gets up from his chair and walks away. And, just as I thought, my man doesn’t waste one single moment.

  “Who’s that?” he enquires, sounding…amused.

  Wait a minute! He’s supposed to be jealous, not amused.

  “Tom? Oh, he’s just someone I met,” I answer coolly.

  “He looks like a nice guy.” He’s still smiling.

  If my plans failed again, I don’t know what I’m going to do.

  “He really is a nice guy.” I stare at him earnestly.

  “I’m sure he is. You look like you’re enjoying yourselves.” He doesn’t take his eyes off me, a thin smile plastered on his lips.

  “Well, as I said, he’s a nice guy.” I try to hide my frustration.

  “Great, I hope you have a nice evening together.” His smile is unmistakably malicious.

  He’s not serious. Isn’t he jealous? Does he really not care that I’m sitting here, flirting with this nice guy? He really is an asshole, just like I thought he was!

  “Well, your nice guy is on his way back. I think I’ll leave you two alone.” He’s infuriatingly cool as he walks away with a tight smile. Asshole!

  “Well?” Tom asks with a broad grin, standing next to me, waiting to hear the news.

  “I don’t know…” I mutter.

  Oh, I know. I sure as hell know. The man I want just isn’t into me. I can’t believe I slept with him! I can’t believe I was stupid enough to think that a little sex would change anything.

  “Shall we go?” Tom gives me his hand.

  “Yes.” I carefully slide off the bar stool in my red high heels. Unexpectedly, Tom slides a hand around my waist. I think of the amused eyes staring at me now and the huge smile probably plastered on his face, and my heart sinks. He just doesn’t care about me.

  We leave the pub, walk down the street, and go around the corner where I stop.

  “So this is where we part?” Tom asks.

  “As we agreed,” I answer, somewhat frustrated.

  “You don’t look pleased. Your plan didn’t work out?” He grimaces.

  “I don’t know,” I mumble.

  “Maybe we should meet again, let him think that it’s serious,” Tom suggests with a mischievous smile.

  He’s a nice guy and he doesn’t look so bad either, but I don’t want him getting any ideas. He’s here for one very clear purpose.

  “We’ll see where it develops from here.” I shrug and a terrible feeling of dist
ress envelops me. “I have to admit, you played the part perfectly.”

  “Always happy to oblige, and in any case I enjoyed your company, even if it meant being part of your sneaky plan.” He smiles again, widely.

  “So…” I murmur hesitatingly. It really is time to say goodbye to him. I want to go home, get into the shower, and let the warm water rinse away this terrible, choking feeling.

  “So…” He looks at me. “You have my number and you’re more than welcome to call if you have any other plans. And even if you don’t.”

  Damn. He wants me to call him again. Well, I’ve no intention of doing that.

  “Good night.” I nod formally, doing my best not to touch him. God forbid he should get the wrong idea.

  “Good night,.” hHe smiles at me “And good luck.”

  Then he turns toward the street, leaving me standing there.

  I wonder what Ben’s thinking. He’s probably picturing me ending the evening with this guy. I walk home debating what to do now.

  Even the warm water of the shower can’t calm me down. How did I let this happen? How did I fall in love with a guy I can’t have?

  And now he thinks I’m ridiculous. He probably clued into my game within seconds. He most certainly knows I’m crazy about him and that I don’t want anyone else. I turn off the water and wipe my tears with the big towel wrapped around me. I get into bed wearing a tank top and panties. First of all, I decide to open my blog and write. Maybe if I write down my thoughts, I’ll find the clarity I’m desperately seeking.

  Thursday

  June 7th 2012

  When Our Plans Fall Through; Again

  The show that I put on convinced no one. Flirting at the bar with the aspiring actor who volunteered for the mission was a failure and left me miserable.

  The plan failed. He wasn’t jealous. He was on to me from the first second. I underestimated him. And he just doesn’t care. He’s not into me. He only smiled and wished me luck.

  Of course, I’m allowed to go out with whomever I want, whenever I want. But should I do it in front of him just to spite him, to make him jealous? Isn’t that a bit too much? Is this who I’ve become? Am I that foolish? Because that’s how I feel right now.

  What have I done?

  Talula

  I close the laptop, turn on my side, hug my pillow, and look out the window, imagining my man smiling that mean smile, never giving me a thought.

  Sometime later, I open the laptop again and, to my surprise, find five new responses in my blog.

  Response from Dana Crane: Maybe it’s time to stop? If you want to move on, go for it. But you don’t have to wave it in his face. Obviously he realized you were just trying to upset him. And obviously he thought it was a really ridiculous thing to do. Is that what you want him to think of you—that you’re a shitty person? Because you’re better than that. I understand that you want to get him, but you’re supposed to seduce him, not turn yourself into a joke. It won’t make him want you more. It may only make him hate you.

  It’ll make him hate me? I don’t think so. That thought is too terrible.

  Response from C.T.G: Do things properly…

  I smile. C.T.G’s still here…and with great advice. He gets a thing or two, and he gets me.

  It’s as though you haven’t learnt a thing. What am I going to do with your amateurism? It’s quite frustrating. Sitting at a bar with a guy, whom everyone obviously knows you’re not interested in, and doing this just to annoy him, is…well, it’s annoying. And stupid. And now you’ve gotten yourself into a situation you don’t want to be in. Is it any wonder your plan failed? Why should he be jealous of a random guy at a bar? You’re classier than that.

  So now you’re stuck at home (or wherever you may be), and you’re debating what to do. Great plan…As I said, you’re frustrated and you’re wasting your time brooding instead of taking action. What you need to do now is rebuild your relationship, and you’d better do it without a groveling apology. Small but impressive gestures will do the trick. Plus sex, if he still wants you after your foolish behavior. Start being creative. I can’t think of everything for you.

  C.T.G is right. Anyone can be the person they want to be, when they’re hiding behind a pseudonym. It’s all about the small gestures, doing things that he likes. In fact, I hardly know anything about Ben. And yet, I want him. I’m so fucked up. He likes my paintings and he likes camping. And then there’s that project at work, which is so important to him. He likes going to the park to play football. And I have a meeting with him tomorrow at a bar which, of course, he’s completely unaware of.

  And sex. Sex can do the trick. But I don’t even know if he wants me again.

  I lie in bed, preparing for another sleepless night. My mood changes so often I can’t keep up with it. Why does every encounter with him cause me heartache? Damn him. I toss and turn from side to side. It’s eleven p.m. This sleeplessness does not bode well. My body shuffles the deck, planning things on its own.

  I open Facebook. I don’t care if he is or isn’t asleep. I don’t care what he has to say.

  Really, Talia, who are you kidding?

  And just as I expected, someone wants to talk. He probably wants to torture me some more, and I’m not so sure I want to give him the pleasure.

  Ben Storm: Back on Facebook already? I hope your evening was pleasant, despite everything.

  Okay, he’s being annoying again.

  Talia Blum: What do you want?

  Ben Storm: Nothing. Are you cross with me again?

  I’m frustrated by you!

  Talia Blum: No. Should I be cross with you?

  Ben Storm: I don’t think so. I don’t think I did anything wrong.

  Talia Blum: You really didn’t do anything.

  Ben Storm: So how’s your guy?

  Talia Blum: He’s great, thanks.

  Ben Storm: So why are you on Facebook?

  Talia Blum: Where else am I supposed to be?

  Ben Storm: I can think of a few places, if your evening was as great as you claim.

  Talia Blum: Oh, with Tom? No, he’s lovely, but I want to take it slow.

  Ben Storm: You don’t even know the meaning of the word. Slow. I think you’re more like zero to one hundred in three seconds.

  Talia Blum: Not with Tom. I don’t want to ruin it.

  Ben Storm: Are you serious?

  Wait a minute. Now he’s buying it?

  Talia Blum: Yes. I don’t know where it’s going, but if it’s serious...I want it to be special.

  Ben Storm: Special?

  Talia Blum: Yes, you know. Maybe he’ll even let me stay at his place, sleep over…

  Ben Storm: Ouch. Not fair.

  Talia Blum: Well, at least he won’t sleep with me and then throw me out of his bed. You know, a decent guy.

  Ben Storm: Is that what you think I did?

  Talia Blum: Isn’t that what you did?

  Ben Storm: Damn it, Talia, I thought we were over that.

  Over what—the fact that he doesn’t want to be my boyfriend?

  Talia Blum: Me too. I’m over it. I’m moving on.

  Ben Storm: If you say so.

  Talia Blum: You’re the one who made it clear that nothing can happen between us.

  Ben Storm: Right.

  Talia Blum: So I can date who I want.

  Ben Storm: And do you want that Tom?

  You idiot, I want you! I want you to hug and kiss me all night and never let me go!

  Talia Blum: Maybe, I’m not sure. I told you, I’m taking it slow.

  Ben Storm: What does he do, this Tom?

  What does he care about Tom? How come he’s so curious suddenly?

  Talia Blum: This Tom? He’s an investment advisor at a bank.

  Ben Storm: Impressive.

  Talia Blum: I also think so

  Ben Storm: I’m glad you found a nice guy, even though it’s a bit sooner than I expected

  Talia Blum: What’s that supposed to mean?


  Ben Storm: You know, yesterday…

  Talia Blum: Yesterday what?

  Ben Storm: Yesterday you came in my shower.

  Wow! He’s direct…and now I’m blushing.

  Talia Blum: Thanks for that. I’m glad that obstacle is behind me. And I’m sure Tom will be as well

  Ben Storm: You’re mean...

  Talia Blum: Why are you cross now? I thought you didn’t care about anything.

  Ben Storm: What made you think that?

  Talia Blum: Your disgusting behavior.

  Ben Storm: What are you talking about?

  Talia Blum: You couldn’t stop smiling at me at the pub. You seemed to find the whole situation funny.

  Ben Storm: It was funny then. It’s not funny now.