David shook his head and sucked in a slow breath. “If you have something to say, Sophie, then say it.”
Where could she even begin with something like this? “Why did you buy my building?”
David’s eyes widened, and then narrowed. “Because it’s a good investment. And your rent was so high it was extortion.”
Sophie pounded her fist on the cushion. “How do you know how much my rent is?”
“The management company offered the information as a selling point. Why are you upset about this?”
“Were you going to tell me?”
“I made the offer on Wednesday, Sophie. We’re not even in escrow yet.”
“And I suppose escrow closes February first.”
David actually rolled his eyes. “Sounds about right.”
“By then you’ll own Working It Out, and Megan can help make the transition run smoothly.” She was spitting the words now.
“Would you calm down?” David shrugged out of his coat and draped it across a kitchen chair. He looked like he stepped out of a magazine walking toward her in his charcoal suit, the gray shirt and silvery tie doing nothing to lighten the ensemble.
He stopped at the edge of the couch and loomed over her. “I’m buying Daphne’s share personally. If you want to sell you can. If not, I’ll be a silent partner.” He joined her on the couch. “Megan is going to cover for you while we’re gone.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I make site visits during December and January. It’s a great chance for you to see the country.”
Emotions bubbled over inside of her. Relief, rage, anxiety, gratitude. She couldn’t keep any of them straight. “Do you even think of me as a person? Or am I just a trinket to you?”
“For God’s sake, Sophie, don’t do this.”
“What am I doing?”
“That slanty thing with your eyes for one.” David rose from the couch and walked to the kitchen. “And trying to pick a fight with me for another. Do you have any alcohol at all? Because if you keep this up, I’m going to need a drink.”
“I’m not trying to fight with you, but any emotional response from you would be nice. Do you care about me at all?”
David stepped out from behind the open refrigerator door and leveled his gaze at her. “Sophie!”
She sprang from the couch. “That’s right. In order to speak to me you have to be inebriated.” Once she was in the kitchen, she pushed herself onto the counter, standing on it to reach the cupboard over the fridge. Grabbing the box inside, she made her way to the floor again. She thrust the box into David’s chest then spun, pulling a glass bottle from another cabinet.
“What’s this?” He had the nerve to laugh.
“Liqueur filled chocolates and vanilla extract. I think the vanilla is eighty proof.”
“God, you’re cute.” He was grinning as he sat at the kitchen table and opened the box of candy.
Sophie stomped her foot in frustration. “I’m not trying to be cute. I’m trying to figure out what is happening in my life. Why are you smiling?”
“I’m just waiting for you to get over it, like that day with the door.”
She was still annoyed about the swarm of people he’d had in her apartment. “I’m not going to let this go. I need to be an active participant in my own life, not some puppet on a string you can jerk around for thrills.”
David’s face fell. “I don’t do that.”
“Like hell you don’t. You are constantly telling me what to do, bulldozing over my life, making decisions for me. I can’t take it. If we are going to be together I need to be a partner in it.”
“I’m not going to consult with you before I make a business decision.”
“If they concern me I expect you to respect me enough to care about my opinion.”
“Sophie, you’re overreacting.”
“At least I’m having a reaction. I can’t be as indifferent as you. I actually have emotions.”
David stood, peering down at her. “Are you trying to hurt me?”
“I’m trying to get any reaction at all. What am I supposed to think? You buy the building and my club, hire someone to replace me all without a word.”
There was nothing he could say, no magic answer that would satisfy her right now. What she needed was some time to cool off and come to her senses.
Her eyes opened wide and seemed to peer straight to his soul. “Are you in love with me?”
She really didn’t know, which actually kind of stung. How could she not know? That he’d never said the words was beside the point. If her question didn’t sound like an accusation he might have answered.
“Well then.” Her intake of breath was sharp as she nodded her head furiously. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I must be completely deluded.”
He stepped closer, still unsure how they had gotten to this point. “Where is this coming from?”
She threw her hands up and stepped back. “I know, you never promised me anything. Hell, I agreed to play by the rules that applied to me. I wanted so badly for there to be more from you. I made it up. I made myself believe that just like I was waiting for you, you were waiting for me. Waiting for me to be ready to have our own life.” Her curls swung slowly from side to side.
“Sophie, I—”
“Don’t bother.” She stepped away, retreating into the living room. “I need some space. I have some decisions to make about the club, my career, us. And since you don’t feel the need to consult me on any of your decisions, I’m not going to ask your opinion either.”
“What are you looking for here, Sophie?”
She sank onto the couch, wrapping that tattered red blanket around herself as she stared blankly out the window. “I just need a break, some time to get my thoughts together.”
“A break?”
“Lance and Tessa are coming to the class on Thursday. They’ll do the positions.”
“You’re ending it? Because I made a real estate investment? Because Daphne decided to sell? Because I want to take you with me when I travel?”
She shook her head slowly, incessantly as if she would never stop. Finally, she spoke again. “The only thing I want to end is not being in control of my own life. I’ve spent my whole life reacting to everyone else’s needs.”
“You want me to tell Craig and Daphne no?”
“I don’t know what I want, David. I need some time to decide. Please, just go. I’ll call you.”
He fought the urge to stand in front of her and look into her eyes to see if she really meant it. He wouldn’t beg her. Taking his coat off the chair, he took the two steps to the door and left without looking back. Checking to make sure the door locked behind him.
———
No one touched him. David hadn’t even realized it until Sophie was gone. She touched him constantly, incessantly, as if she had to hold him down or he might float away. And he’d loved it. Every pat, stroke, nudge. He was acutely aware of them all, on guard to hide his reaction.
What was it Sophie had said before that first night? The class was all about the touching, that couples came for the closeness the touching provided. What he wouldn’t give to touch her again. The way he did when she was asleep and he didn’t have to worry about her reciprocating. He would wrap a silky curl around and around his finger and then rub his thumb across the hair. It was the softest thing he’d ever felt.
Now all he had left were the memories and the questions that still lingered. He’d often wondered if he would be able to wrap his hands around her tiny waist. He should have tried. Then at least he would know how it felt.
He wouldn’t know how it felt to be touched for a good long while. He wouldn’t be like his father and punish some other woman for not being her. And he was just like the old man, manipulating Sophie’s life into what he thought she wanted it to be.
Just like his father, he thought he was doing it all for her. The building was a good investment, but he’d bought it to gi
ve her a break on the rent, never realizing she was perfectly capable of solving the problem on her own. And he arranged to take her with him on his tour, thinking it would be a way for her to see the country. But really it was about his insatiable need to keep her close so he could glean off her happiness.
She opened him up to the possibility of being happy, of wanting more from life than he ever had. A morbid sense of curiosity had him driving up into the West Hills, to the Forest Heights neighborhood he’d grown up in. He wanted to see the house Tessa thought Sophie would love. To see where life might have led him if he were a better man.
Who would touch him next? A stranger brushing him in the street? Kelly, probably. But even she kept her distance. He’d thought it was strange when his father hugged him. It shouldn’t be strange.
It hadn’t always been this way. He and Lance had always hugged and played, wrestled, touched and even kissed, until Gretchen. David would never forget Lance’s third wife. He’d wanted so much for her to like him, for it to feel like it had with Kelly’s mother, Karen.
He tried to be good. Hell, he was a good kid. But she hated how much time Lance spent with him. Said it was unnatural for Lance to sleep with David when the nightmares came. Said all the hugging was going to turn him into a girl. He was twelve. He knew not all the boys were close with their fathers, but they had mothers and he didn’t.
He’d never forget his father’s face when he stuck out his hand to shake goodnight. Lance had looked as hurt as David felt right now. But he’d taken it.
David had felt himself getting more and more irritable, moody, angry. Who was Gretchen to come in and shake up his world? She’d tried to tell him to do something, who knew what now. He’d mouthed off, calling her a bitch. She’d slapped him. Not that he didn’t deserve it, but no one ever struck him before.
Craig had been there. He always was. Had yelled at her as David closed up. Sat with him on the front step kicking pebbles until his father had come home.
“Tell him,” Craig nudged, but he’d stayed frozen. “Gretchen hit him. She can’t do that.” David had heard the words as if they were coming from the television.
He’d never looked up as his father approached, just seen his shoes. Polished black. The briefcase had joined them with a thud, and promptly flopped on its side.
“What do you mean? David? What happened?”
The shoes were really nice. His dad had gotten him matching shoes for his aunt’s wedding last summer. Even their ties had matched. That was the day Gretchen had started calling him Clone.
“She slapped him. Real hard. She can’t do that.”
His father knelt down and David closed his eyes. Tight. Tighter as he felt the fingers where his cheek still stung. Gretchen said boys don’t cry.
And he tried not to, really tried as his father had wrapped him up, squeezing what breath was left.
“I’ll make it right. I promise. I’m so sorry.” The whisper only made it harder. David was grateful his father had held him long enough for him to gain control again. That way no one would know he had cried.
Lance had walked them across the street to Craig’s house. Thank goodness the television was on. Lance had tried to hug him again when he left, but David had pulled back.
“I’ll come get you right after dinner, okay? Right after. I’ll make it right.” David had stared at the television. He couldn’t nod, or even blink. Boys don’t cry.
He never saw Gretchen again. But thanks to her he did have to see a shrink. Not that he said much. At least the sessions taught him about the nightmare.
It wasn’t really a nightmare. The therapist thought it was probably a repressed memory. In it he was scared, but he never knew of what, and went into his father’s room. He tried everything to wake him, but he was so small and Lance was so big. He just wouldn’t wake up. And then the panic would hit, waking David.
Lance had relied heavily on sleeping pills for five years after his wife’s death. The psychologist reasoned the event might have actually happened, which was why David couldn’t let it go. It tapped into a child’s fear of being abandoned by the only parent he had left.
David learned how to change the dream, to walk around the other side of the bed and climb in. It worked. Without the nightmares, David didn’t have an excuse to reach for Lance, even in the middle of the night. No one touched him.
———
Speed bumps were the bane of her existence. Maybe because she drove over exactly sixteen each way to check on Daphne between classes. But probably because everything bothered her right now.
Coming over the seventh bump, she slammed on the brakes. Luckily no one was behind her. She’d know his car anywhere. Not just for its condition, but also for the way he parked it. Always toward the end of a lot, to lessen the chances anyone might park next to it and ding the door.
What was David doing here? On the far outside possibility he was visiting Craig and Daphne, the family birth center was on the other side of the hospital. This was by the clinics, where the doctors had their offices. Was he sick? Sophie pulled her SUV right next to the Corvette. So close to the driver’s side he couldn’t possible open the door. It wasn’t really catty. He had a key and could move the truck. But he’d know she’d seen he was there.
She didn’t mind the walk. She didn’t have another class for three hours. Maybe she should just sit here and wait. But then she’d have to talk to him, and she had no idea what to say.
Zipping up her jacket, she trudged across the parking lot, into the lobby of the clinic and looked on the wall for the map. The hospital was sprawling. If she followed the maze correctly she could make it all the way to Daphne’s room without having to step outside again.
What if he was sick? Or maybe it was his dad? David had mentioned he was worried about Lance. Not that it was any of her business really, but he might need her. Instinctively, she wanted to console him. Guilt still niggled her for not making sure he was okay with the revelations his father had dumped on him before she’d started in about how he treated her. Maybe helping him now would assuage that feeling. Whether they were on a break or not.
Sophie pulled out her cell phone and stepped to the left, surveying the physician’s directory. Cardiologists on the fourth floor, oncologists on the third, urology and gerontology on the second. Why the hell was he here?
She dialed his cell phone, surprised when he picked up on the first ring.
“Sophie?”
She warmed from the inside out at the sound of his voice. She cleared her throat and tried to come up with a plan. “I need to see you.”
“Yeah? Did you decide—”
“No, nothing like that. Where are you?” Not very well thought out. But she had no idea what she was walking into.
“Oh.” Did he really sound crestfallen or had she only imagined that part? “I have a meeting, but it shouldn’t last more than an hour.”
“What kind of meeting?”
The silence was deafening as she walked into the elevator and pressed two. She’d check every waiting room in the building.
“Are you at work or visiting Daphne?”
“Diversion. I taught you that.” she whispered the words as she stepped out of the elevator. Gerontology was out, leaving the urology practice to the left. Her heart raced as she turned the door handle.
Please let him be here. Urology was what, kidney stones? A lot less ominous than heart problems or cancer.
He was standing, staring out the windows lining the waiting room. She watched as he rocked back and forth on his heels. He was nervous. About the appointment or the phone call?
“David?” She snapped her phone closed and crossed the waiting room. She watched his shoulders tense, his hand clenched into a fist at his side, but he didn’t turn.
As she stood next to him and looked up at his face, she saw why. He was white as a sheet. Terrified. Of the appointment or her? She wrapped both her hands around one fist.
“Are you okay?” Her voice was q
uiet, and not because she was afraid of making a scene in front of the receptionist and two other men in the lobby.
His eyes closed and he nodded slowly.
“Why are you here? Are you waiting for your dad?”
His head shook as he squeezed his eyes tighter.
“You won’t tell me?” She didn’t bother to disguise the hurt in her voice. Not that she deserved to be told after the way she’d treated him, but she needed to know he was all right.
He shook his head, differently this time, as if he was clearing his thoughts. His voice was quiet, but the low tone showed his anger.
“Why are you here? How did you find me?” He splayed his fingers, shaking off hers and sliding his phone in his pocket. “Did my father send you?”
Sophie looked down at her hands, open in front of her. The void where he had been was gaping and noticeable. “I saw your car. I thought you might need me.” The only need seemed to come from her voice.
“I don’t need you.” Vile, bitter, an absolute lie. Good God, why was she here? Now? And why did the doctor have to be running late?
David heard her slump into the chair next to him. He had to stop hurting her. He could physically feel it every time, as if it was happening to himself.
“Why are you here?” she asked again. “Is there something wrong?”
He didn’t want to share the conversation with the room, so he sat next to her. Purely out of practicality. Not so his knee could touch hers. Not so he could breathe in that sweet almond scent. Her eyes were so blue.
“Sophie, it’s none of your business.”
“David.” The hushed whisper of his name sounded just like it did in the morning when they would talk in bed. “If you’re sick, if you have something, I do need to know.”
He rolled his eyes. She thought he had an STD. As if he would have ever risked hurting her. “The only time I’ve ever,” he made circles with his hand as if that explained anything, “is with you. That’s not why I’m here.”
“Then why are you here? Kidney stones? Prostate?”
“Vasectomy.” He watched her face as he said the word. He doubted she would look this pained if he slapped her.
Compromising Positions Page 23
