by Tawny Taylor
“But…” She had a million questions she wanted to ask, like if they’d known she’d be here ahead of time. And where they’d been for the past fifteen years. There hadn’t been a day she hadn’t thought of the two guys she’d once called her best friends. Her first crushes. Her first loves.
The day her family had moved from the sad and dirty neighborhood on the outskirts of Detroit to the pretty house in the ’burbs had been one of the saddest in her life.
An usher stepped out of the shadows and immediately rushed her toward the exit. She stopped outside, in the corridor, her back pressed against the wall, a million wonderful and sad memories playing through her mind. One day in particular got stuck in her head, repeating over and over until tears streamed from her eyes.
Her first time having sex, which of course had been with Damon and Trey. A week before she’d moved across town.
It had been Damon who’d actually performed the deed that first time, but Trey was right there too, holding her hand, stroking her face, making her feel cherished and special.
That day, she’d given those two teen boys her ring—and her heart. A week later, she’d had her insides ripped from her chest and shredded. Even today a scar remained, the product of that awful pain. Who would’ve guessed it would still be there, after so much time had passed?
Inside, she heard thundering applause but she couldn’t care less about the show. She just wanted to talk to them, to spend time with them, to see if those little zaps on the stage were all that remained of the magical connection they’d once shared. Or whether the love and passion was still there, just waiting for a spark to reignite it.
She had to know, had to at least have an hour with them.
The doors to the theater flew open, and a river of people flowed out into the hallway, filling it with wall-to-wall jabbering audience members. She made her way down to the door where she expected her friend would exit and waited, intending to ask her if she’d wait for a while so she could hunt down Damon and Trey.
As the seconds ticked by, while Blair watched hordes of people file past her, she became jittery and nervous. Would the guys leave without trying to find her? They had to tear down and pack up, right? They had to stick around for a while.
God, she hoped so.
Finally, she saw Sandy, who was scanning the crowd, no doubt looking for her. Sandy’s features brightened as their gazes met, and her friend rushed toward her. “What was that trick all about? Ohmygod! Where were you? Did you see the last illusion? It was amazing! The best I’ve ever seen!”
“Listen,” Blair said, grabbing her ecstatic friend’s hands. “Those magicians are old friends of mine. I wanted to find you first. Let’s go see if we can talk to them.”
“Friends of yours? You’re joking, right? Because if you’re not, I swear I’m going to scream or something.”
“Not joking, but please don’t scream.”
Her friend let out a little “Eep!” as Blair caught her hand and tugged her back to the backstage exit.
“I’m hoping they’ll come out this way, or we can get someone’s attention and they’ll let us go backstage.”
“This reminds me of the time we went to the Duran Duran concert. You remember?”
“How could I forget? So tell me the truth. Did you or did you not fake the contest win so that I’d come here with you?” The door swung open and a huge man hurried past them. “Excuse me!” Blair said, trailing him for several steps before giving up. “Damn.” She headed back to the door and tried it. “Locked.”
“We can catch it when someone else comes out,” her friend suggested.
“You’re brilliant. Now the answer.”
“No way. I won the tickets.”
“Then how did they know I’d be here tonight?”
Sandy shrugged, looking as bewildered as Blair felt. “You got me. I’d say it was real magic but I know you don’t believe in that.”
“No, I don’t.”
They waited.
Waited some more.
Waited even longer, until the entire building was silent and Blair knew in her gut she’d somehow missed them.
She felt sick.
“I think they left,” Sandy said.
“Yeah.”
“Sorry. Maybe if you hadn’t come to find me—”
“It’s not your fault. I guess it was just rotten luck.”
They both sighed.
Blair knew it had been too long, that the guys were probably already in their hotel room, relaxing. But she couldn’t bring herself to give up, to leave. Why hadn’t they come to find her?
“How about a beer?” Sandy asked a long time later.
“That sounds good. Really good.” Blair blinked away a tear of disappointment.
* * * * *
Five beers and several hours later, Blair was still completely and utterly bummed about missing Trey and Damon. No doubt her earlier disappointment at work only made things ten times worse.
Sandy, bless her heart, tried everything to drag her out of the dumps, but nothing was working. Not even a really bad rendition of Madonna’s “Like a Virgin” at their favorite karaoke bar. Not even a hot fudge brownie sundae from her favorite restaurant. Finally, she decided to quit torturing her friend on her birthday and called it a night. No doubt she’d feel better tomorrow after she’d had some sleep. Maybe she’d even brainstorm how to track the guys down. Her brain definitely worked better when it wasn’t floating in a bucket of beer.
Sandy drove her home and crashed on her couch. She slept like a baby.
Blair did not.
By the next morning, Blair was more frustrated and irritated with herself than sad. But she had a game plan. While Sandy took a shower and emptied half of Blair’s box of cereal, Blair called every hotel in the area to see if a Damon Butler or Trey Foster were registered.
After an hour, she gave up and joined her friend in the kitchen, drowning her disappointment in soy milk and corn flakes. She fingered the little ruby ring as she ate, tracing the shape of the stone with her index finger. “Please, please tell me you were lying last night. That somehow Damon and Trey tracked me down and asked you to get me to the show?”
“Sorry, I wish I could say I was lying but I wasn’t. I had no idea you knew those guys. I’m sorry, sweetie.”
“We were best friends for years. Even more than that. Damon was my first…you know. We had sex, Damon, Trey and I. We loved each other. But my family moved and I was too young to drive. My stepfather restricted the long-distance service on our phone so I couldn’t call them. I always wondered what happened to them, where they were, what they were doing. I gave them this ring on the day I moved, and we swore that no matter what, we’d be together someday. The three of us.”
Sandy’s smile was dreamy, wistful. “I wish my first time had been that wonderful. That’s such a sweet story.”
“Yeah.” Blair plunked her elbows on the table and dropped her chin on her fists. “It’s too bad it didn’t have the ending we all hoped for.”
“Well, I said I was going to be a doctor when I was younger,” Sandy said, chuckling. “I quit pre-med after my first semester of college. I think most people kiss their teen dreams goodbye when they grow up.”
“But they gave me this back. Why?” She slipped the ring off her pinky and looked inside. Yep, it was the ring she’d given them, not a copy. Her initials were there, where they’d always been, engraved on the inside of the band. And the nick in the stone was still there. “They remembered me. But why didn’t they try to talk to me later? After the show?”
“Maybe they couldn’t find you, or they got tied up with packing up their stuff. Or they had wives to go home to. Who knows?”
“It’s just so frustrating, to have them so close, only to have them slip away without getting at least a few minutes to catch up.”
Sandy thought for a few minutes and then said gently, “Maybe it’s for the best. If you’re this upset after just seeing them, maybe you shou
ldn’t spend more time with them than that. Think about it. What are you expecting here? The Masters of Illusion are performers. They travel around the world. It’s not like they can settle down and spend any real time with you, no matter what your history is.”
Those words stung big time. But Sandy did have a point. She’d reacted so strongly after just a few minutes onstage. If Trey and Damon were around for a few days, if she got the chance to spend some real quality time with them and all those old feelings were stirred up, how would she deal with them leaving? She was just a little over-emotional right now, thanks to her frustration at work. “You’re probably right. But darn it, I’m having a hell of a time with this.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie.” Sandy gave her a hug, patting her upper back. Releasing her, Sandy stepped back to study her face for several seconds. “Are you going to be okay? Do you want to tell me what else was bothering you last night?”
“No, it’s not that big a deal anymore. I’m fine. A little bummed, that’s all. I’m tired, and that’s probably making things ten times worse. But there’s a reason why I reacted so strongly to them. I don’t think anyone could possibly understand.”
Sandy nodded and stooped over to grab her purse. Standing, she dug inside, her car keys rattled.
“Those two men, they were more than friends,” continued Blair. “More than first boyfriends or lovers. They were my lifeline. And I was theirs. We knew each others’ secrets, had met each others’ demons. Like Trey. His mom was an alcoholic, and his dad sold their food stamps to fund his gambling habit. And Damon’s dad blew his head off in front of Damon when he was just eight years old. After that, Damon slept in my doghouse for three nights, and his mother didn’t even notice, she was so out of it. She tried to hold it together for him, but she just wasn’t strong enough. And then there were my parents…” she laughed bitterly. “So you see? We weren’t just friends from the time we were able to talk. We were each others’ stability. We held each other up. I don’t think any of us could have survived those early years if we hadn’t had each other. Those two boys were the only ones I knew I could count on.”
Sandy didn’t say anything for a long time, and once again, Blair regretted opening her mouth. They headed toward the front door, Blair following Sandy.
“I had no idea,” Sandy said, stopping in the middle of the living room, nervously fiddling with her purse strap.
“That’s why this is so hard. We’d always said we’d be together when we grew up. I guess a part of me was still hoping that might happen, despite the years that have passed.”
Sandy’s eyes filled with pity, which only made Blair regret trying to explain more. “Oh sweetie.”
Blair shook her head, “Like I said, it’s impossible for anyone else to understand.”
“Maybe I understand better than you think.” Sandy flipped her key ring over in her hand. “I’m going to head home, let you get some more sleep. I’ll see ya tomorrow.”
“Okay.” Blair turned a one-eighty, heading back toward the kitchen.
“Hey, what’s this?” Sandy called.
“What?” Blair glanced over her shoulder, halting midstride when she saw her friend stoop over. “Did the neighbor’s cat throw up on my welcome mat again?”
“Uh. No. You’ve got a package.” Grimacing down at the brown cardboard box in her arms, Sandy stepped back into the house.
“A package? It’s Sunday. Nobody delivers on Sunday.”
“I don’t think this was delivered by a courier. There’s no address label or anything.”
“Weird.”
Sandy set it on Blair’s coffee table and stepped back, almost as if she was scared. “Are you going to open it?”
“I don’t know. Should I?”
“I don’t know either.”
Blair walked a wide circle around the table. “I saw a television show once where a woman received a box without a label and it was a bomb from her pissed-off ex-husband.”
“You don’t have a pissed-off ex-husband,” Sandy pointed out.
“I know.”
“You don’t have any enemies either.”
“Maybe it’s a random thing?”
Sandy chuckled. “I’d say it’s highly unlikely. But maybe we can take it outside into the garage and carefully open it out there?”
“Sounds like a plan…I guess.” Blair cautiously carried the box back out through the front door and around the side of the house to her detached garage. Meanwhile Sandy opened the garage door.
It was already hot outside. The heavy air promised yet another day of record temperatures, which meant the garage’s interior was like a gasoline-scented oven. Blair set the box on the ground and went for the garden tool with the longest handle—a hoe. Feeling like an idiot, she poked and prodded the box with the hoe, while Sandy stood outside laughing her ass off.
She gave up some ten minutes later, plunked the tool down and glared at her friend, who was finding this whole thing hysterical. “It’s not working.”
“No kidding.”
“So what do I do now?”
“Well, either you call the bomb squad or you take your chances and open it.”
“I’m not crazy about either option, but oh well. I guess I’ll open it. The chances of the stupid thing being a bomb are slim to none, right?”
“Right.” Sandy shuffled back another few feet.
“You’re not making me feel any better about my decision here.”
“I’m sure it’s safe. I’m just being extra cautious. One of us has to be safe, just in case we need to call 9-1-1.”
“Sure.” Blair knelt on the floor beside the box and slowly ripped the tape off. Nothing blew up. She lifted the top flaps. Nothing blew up. She glanced inside. Nothing blew up.
She gasped. “Ohmygod!”
It was the box from the magic show. The beautiful one with all the glittering red stones. She gently lifted it out of the cardboard box and hurried to Sandy. “Look! It’s from Trey and Damon. They know where I live.”
“Wow, it’s so beautiful.” Sandy ran an index finger down the side.
“Yes, it is.” Hot tears burning her eyes, Blair cradled the gift to her chest and headed back inside. She sat at the kitchen table and set the magic prop in front of her. “I wonder why they sent me this?”
“Look inside.”
She flipped the lid up but there was nothing inside. “There’s a magic compartment in this thing. How’s it work?”
“Let me see.” Frowning, Sandy inspected the box from every angle. “Hmmm, this one’s tricky. My box has a little hinge thingy on the side that flips up. The one I want to buy has a button. But I can’t find either on this box.”
Blair sighed and took the box from her perplexed friend. “Of course they’re not going to make this easy for me.” She opened the lid again, just to make sure she hadn’t missed something, like a special button or loop to unlock a hidden compartment in the bottom.
But this time the inside wasn’t empty. An even smaller box had appeared somehow. Red, velvet, it looked like a jewelry box. “There’s something in here now.”
Sandy leaned closer. “This is so cool! What is it?”
Blair lifted the little red box. “This.” She turned it and flipped the lid, revealing an absolutely breathtaking garland brooch with a large ruby in its center. The pin was piercing a small folded piece of paper that had only an address, date and time printed on it.
“June twenty-third? That’s today.” Sandy plucked up the paper as Blair took a good, long look at the beautiful piece of jewelry. “They want you to meet them tonight. At this address.”
Blair was so thrilled she could hardly speak. She gave her friend a watery smile. “They want to see me.”
Sandy hopped out of her chair and threw herself at Blair, giving her an exuberant hug. “I’m so happy for you! But I’ve got to know how that box works. Can I see?”
Blair’s head was not on any box. It was flying ahead about six hours, to tonight
. She’d been nearly heartbroken when she thought she wouldn’t see her guys again. But now that she knew she’d see them, she was nervous as hell. “Sure.”
Why had they tracked her down? Did they feel the same way about her as she felt about them, even after all these years?
Six hours was such a freaking long time to wait for answers.
Chapter Two
Blair sat in her car, alternately staring at the address on the creepy old warehouse and rechecking the one on the piece of paper. Yes, the address was right. So why did this place seem so wrong? Why would Trey and Damon ask her to meet them here? In some old industrial complex?
Granted, they’d never been what she’d call traditionally romantic guys. Instead of giving her flowers or candy when they were teens, they’d given her practical things, stuff she could really use, like warm socks…and cans of Spam. But having a date meet them at a warehouse? Bizarre was the only word that came to mind.
She checked the clock again. It was now five after six, and the paper said six. There weren’t any other cars in front of the building. Were they running late? She was so wired and jittery a minute felt like an hour. The thought of sitting inside the car for even a few seconds made her want to scream.
Check the door.
What the hell? For all she knew, the guys could have parked their cars around back. The neighborhood was safe. It wasn’t like she was taking her life in her hands by walking across the parking lot.
The door was all glass. She peered inside. Looked empty, quiet. She pulled.
Unlocked.
“Hello? Damon? Trey?” She stepped into a silent reception area. To the left stood one of those reception counters. No one was posted there. The overhead fluorescent lights were off, and the deeper she walked inside, the darker it grew, the heavier the shadows became, and the edgier she felt.
She smoothed her hands down her legs, flattening her skirt against her thighs. Her pumps made little tap-tapping noises on the tile as she ventured to the back of the reception area. There were three wooden doors spaced evenly along one wall. One was marked with a sign, a bathroom. The second opened to a small office. Empty. The third opened to the cavernous warehouse. “Trey? Damon? Hello? It’s me.”
