Autumn Getaway (Seasons of Love)

by Gracen, Jennifer

  “Almost nine years,” Lydia answered.

  “And you just got divorced?”

  “Yes.” Lydia's gut started humming, telling her to be wary. “I actually signed the final papers only a few days ago. Melanie's just happy for me; it seems she can't contain herself.”

  “Huh.” Paige’s gaze and voice were cool as she said, “Well, I give you credit then.”

  “For what?” Lydia asked, confused.

  “For jumping back into the pool so quickly. I mean, I know Sam’s a great guy, and really good looking; but even still, I don’t know that I’d be going after someone the same week I got divorced.” She gave a careless shrug. “But what do I know? Everyone's different, I guess.”

  Lydia’s brows shot up in surprise. Paige knew perfectly well that Lydia was one of Melanie’s closest friends, but obviously had no qualms with hurling veiled insults her way. Lydia quickly surmised that Paige was less than thrilled about her and Sam flirting, much less doing anything else she was probably imagining.

  Lydia immediately went on guard, her insides whirring with uneasiness. But she met Paige’s judgmental gaze and answered in a steady voice, “Well, I wouldn't say I'm 'going after' anybody, as you charmingly put it.” She took a deep breath, stared at the empty glass she turned in her fingers. Looking back up, she met Paige's icy stare and continued, “I agree that your brother-in-law is a great guy. He knows full well that I'm recently divorced, and keeps coming over to me anyway—of his own free will. So if it bothers you, maybe you should air your grievances with him too.”

  This time it was Paige who looked thrown, but she recovered quickly. She gave a cold smile with a hint of something else: challenge? Smugness? “No… not right now, anyway.”

  Uh huh, Lydia thought. Brazen, alright. Let the games begin. She stood up, feeling the whir of drunkenness as she rose to her feet. “I’m going to get another glass of wine,” she said, intending to escape further interrogation by Sam’s sister-in-law and not return.

  “Oh.” Paige looked slightly puzzled. “I thought you said you weren’t having any more tonight.”

  “Changed my mind,” Lydia replied, even as she felt the strong buzz whooshing through her and making her head float. The only thing on her mind at that moment was escape.

  “Then could you get me one too?” Paige asked, holding up her empty glass.

  Lydia just stared at her. Paige was nervy, that was for sure. She wanted Lydia to come back—for more barb tossing, most likely. But there was no way not to do what she asked without seeming purposely rude. She is good, Lydia thought. Have to give her points for sheer audacity. “Sure,” she replied lightly. “Chardonnay, was it?”

  “Yes, thank you.” Paige’s mild expression didn’t hint at any unpleasant intent, but Lydia could feel it nonetheless.

  “How about either of you?” Lydia asked the cousins. “Need any drinks?”

  “I’m good, thanks anyway,” MaryBeth piped up.

  “Nothing for me, but thank you,” Jeanette added.

  “Okay.” Lydia looked to Paige, forcing a fake smile. “I’ll be back.”

  “Thanks,” Paige said, returning the fake smile.

  Lydia turned to go to the bar, the empty glasses in her hands and her stomach in a twist. She wondered if she was overreacting because she was half drunk. She wondered if Paige would have been so transparent if she wasn’t half drunk. She had a feeling that Paige was shrewd, and wouldn’t have cared about offending her either way. Paige did not approve of the woman her brother-in-law was eyeing, that much was clear.

  She looked over and saw that again, Sam’s gaze was focused on her as she approached the bar. From where he stood on the far side of the pool table, he smiled warmly at her, then leaned down to take his next shot. She wondered what he’d think of his sister-in-law’s mouthy intrusiveness. From what she’d gleaned of Sam’s personality thus far, and judging by his short interaction with Alec, she was willing to bet he’d be pretty pissed off.

  She was vaguely aware of the three businessmen as she passed them to go to the open space at the middle of the bar. She set the empty glasses down on the bar and waited for John to come to her, which he did almost immediately. She asked for a glass of Chardonnay for Paige, then thought better of her original intent and asked for a glass of water for herself. John nodded and left her to get them. Lydia closed her eyes and held onto the bar. She was more inebriated than she wanted to be, felt slightly woozy and off balance.

  “Hello,” said a man’s voice from behind her.

  Lydia turned. It was one of the three businessmen from the end of the bar. He was about her age, with short blonde hair and blue eyes that were swimming in a sea of red. He held a dark bottle of beer, and looked very drunk. He even swayed the tiniest bit as he regarded her. Great, she moaned inwardly. “Hi,” she said in a neutral tone, not wanting to be rude, but not wanting to be perceived as encouraging.

  “How are you tonight?” he asked with a watery grin.

  “Fine, thanks,” she said coolly.

  “My name’s Joel,” he said, holding out his hand for her to shake.

  She regarded it for a second, then shook it lightly. “Hi Joel.”

  “Hi. What’s your name?”

  “Lydia.”

  “Lydia? That’s an unusual name,” Joel said. “Old fashioned, right?” He took a swig of his beer.

  “I suppose,” Lydia said. She wasn’t going to bother telling him she’d been named for her great-grandmother whom she’d never met.

  “I don’t mean that as an insult,” Joel was quick to say. “It’s just unusual. But it’s pretty.”

  “Thanks,” she said curtly. She glanced over at John to see how he was coming along with getting her drinks. He was chatting with Joel’s two friends, and only had filled one glass with water. Great, she thought again. Come on John, move it.

  “Here with your friends for a party?” Joel inquired with a boozy smile.

  She nodded with a tight half grin, more like a grimace. She didn’t want to be impolite, but she didn’t like making small talk with a drunk, strange man. “Our friends are getting married here tomorrow.” Between having had too much wine, Paige waiting to grill her some more, and this man’s unwanted attention, Lydia started to seriously consider just walking out of the lounge altogether.

  “Married! That’s wonderful,” Joel said with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Congratulations.”

  She smiled tightly again. “I’ll pass on your good wishes to them.”

  “Are they here?” Joel asked, looking around.

  “Actually, they were the couple who left a few minutes ago,” Lydia said.

  “Aw, too bad.” He turned back to face her. “But you’re still here. That’s a good friend, partying on in your friend’s honor.”

  “Yeah, I guess,” she said, glancing over at John again. He was still talking, laughing at something Joel’s friends had said. “Actually, I’m leaving shortly.”

  “Aw, don’t go! We just met,” Joel said. “And you know, Lydia, I gotta tell ya…” She could smell the alcohol on his breath as he leaned in a bit. “You are a very attractive woman.”

  What the hell? Is there something in the water in this place? Lydia wondered to herself in sarcastic amazement. I’ve gotten more compliments in the past hour than in the past year. Apparently, I’ve just got to start hanging around drunken men in hotels more often. “Well, thanks.”

  “I mean it,” Joel said. He leaned in a little more, and Lydia felt herself unconsciously stiffen at how close he was getting, the way he was beginning to invade her space. “Your hair is like… it reminds me of a shiny penny. Really.”

  “I’ve heard that before, believe it or not.”

  “Really? Well, that was what I thought of when I looked at you.” He leaned in even closer, only inches away from her now. “Can I ask you something, even though it’s a little, um, forward?”

  Lydia braced herself. More unwanted questions from strangers. What a night. “Th
is should be interesting. Sure, go ahead, why not.”

  “Is that your natural hair color?” he asked, a slightly sordid tone entering his voice. He openly leered at her. “I mean, if I took you to bed… do the curtains match the carpet? I’m just curious.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “You did not just say that to me.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Joel said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  “Right,” she said coldly.

  “Lydia,” Joel said, leaning in again, “What do I have to do to get you to spend some time with me tonight? Let’s have some drinks.”

  Lydia felt her cheeks get hot and her hands get cold, the reaction she usually had when dealing with something unpleasant or that made her uncomfortable. “Um, sorry, but, no. Just… well, no.”

  “No? So fast? Just like that?” Joel’s eyes hardened as he looked at her. “Come on. You’re here, I’m here… let me buy you a drink. What’s the problem?” He leaned in closer, almost up against her.

  “No thank you,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. Even in her slightly inebriated state, or perhaps because of it, she felt like he was purposely trying to make her feel debased, or even intimidated, and that made her angry. She felt adrenaline course through her and was grateful; she always felt much stronger when she was angry. Her words came out with an unmistakably icy tone as she looked back into his eyes and said, “If you would back up now, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Wow. That’s not very nice,” Joel said, his smile turning into a sneer. He leaned in again, even closer, until his leg was brushing against hers. He practically had her backed up against the bar. He reached out and fingered a lock of her hair. She instantly froze under his touch, and could smell the alcohol on his breath. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll buy you a drink, and maybe it’ll make you nicer.”

  “I believe the lady asked you to back up. Now.” Sam’s deep voice came from beside them. She turned her face up to see him standing there, staring at Joel with a hard look and a set jaw.

  “I believe it’s none of your business,” Joel sneered at Sam, although he did let go of Lydia’s hair.

  “I just made it my business,” Sam said quietly, his dark eyes glowering.

  “Well, that would be your mistake,” Joel said. His drunken voice carried, and it swiftly brought attention to the three of them. The lounge quieted.

  “Get back. Now,” Sam warned in a low growl. “Give her room.”

  Joel paused, but very slowly stepped back enough for Lydia to exhale.

  John was there in a heartbeat, quickly sizing up the way Sam and Joel were glaring at each other and the tension in the air. “Everything alright over here?” he asked, his voice polite but unmistakably tough. He set down two glasses, one of water and one of white wine, and didn’t take his eyes off the two men.

  “You okay, Lydia?” Sam asked her gently. He didn’t look down at her as he asked; his eyes never left Joel’s face, holding him with his severe gaze.

  “She's fine. I was just buying her a drink,” Joel said, seething. “And you were interrupting.”

  “Is your name Lydia?” Sam said coldly to Joel. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

  Joel looked ready to take a swing. “Well, you’re a real—”

  “That’s enough, gentlemen,” John said, his voice like steel. His powerful frame suddenly seemed quite threatening as he leaned on the bar with both elbows, his icy gaze concentrated on Joel. He said to him in a gruff voice, “I think perhaps it’s time you went back to your room.”

  Alec was at Sam’s side. He was good and drunk too, but had surmised the situation. “Uh, Sam, why don’t you take Lydia for a walk or something?”

  “Good idea,” Lydia said. She turned to look up at Sam.

  “Don’t turn your back on me,” Joel growled at her.

  Sam took a step forward, very softly pushing Lydia to the side. His expression was downright menacing as he said to Joel in a low tone, “Don't even talk to her anymore.”

  “Don't tell me what to—” Joel began, his fists curling.

  Sam merely arched an eyebrow and said in a soft rumble, “You really wanna do this?”

  “Joel, c’mon, man,” said one of Joel’s friends. The two of them were there too; Joseph and Mark, sensing there was trouble, came over to back up Sam and Alec. Lydia just shook her head, unable to believe what was happening. She looked to John for help, her eyes wide.

  “Joel, is it?” the bartender said in a hard voice. “Time for you to go.”

  “Maybe I’m not ready to go,” Joel said, although he weaved where he stood.

  “Maybe you’d better if you don’t want my brother to wipe the floor with you,” Alec suggested harshly.

  “Let’s go, man,” the other friend said, moving to Joel’s side. “Come on.”

  Joel and Sam faced off for a few more seconds before Joel turned to his friends, swayed, and said, “Fine, let’s go.” Not looking at Lydia, Joel and his associates left the bar without another word.

  “Bro, I can’t take you anywhere,” Alec joked to Sam, trying to lighten the moment. He clapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

  As if on cue, a new song burst from the jukebox, “Bad To The Bone” by George Thorogood. Alec chortled at the coincidence. Sam grinned, took a deep breath, then released it in a slow stream. He felt the tension progressively leave his body; any buzz he’d had earlier was gone, washed away with the adrenaline rush. He felt clear, his senses actually heightened. He looked down at Lydia. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she said quietly. Her expression was almost unreadable, but the flush on her face spoke volumes. She drank more water from her glass before she said, “I just want to go back to my room. I’m done.”

  “I’ll take you,” Sam said. He paused. “If that’s alright with you.”

  Lydia bit her lip, but then nodded. “Let me get my bag.” She went back to the loveseat.

  “Everything okay over there?” Paige asked, curiosity discernible on her face.

  “What happened?” Jeanette asked. “Seemed like things got a little intense.”

  “Nothing, everything's fine,” Lydia said, her words clipped. “I’m tired. I’m going back to my room. Oh, Paige, I left your wine on the bar, sorry. Good night, everyone.”

  “Good night,” the women echoed, but Lydia had already turned to head out. Her hands felt like they'd been submerged in ice water, thanks to the stress. Embarrassment seeped in, and she just wanted to get the hell out of there.

  By the time she got back to the bar, Joseph and Mark had already returned to their game of pool. Alec and Sam were leaning against the bar, talking in low voices with John. Sam looked totally cool, calm, and collected. Lydia wished she felt the same. She felt off balance, in every way, and she hated that.

  Sam looked up as she approached them. “You ready?” he asked.

  She nodded at him. “Thanks for the assist,” she said to John and Alec.

  “I wasn’t worried,” Alec shrugged. “Sam’s a hell of a fighter when he wants to be. You’d be surprised.”

  Sam shot his brother a look that clearly wanted him to stop talking.

  “Well! Lydia, it’s been a pleasure,” Alec said, apparently perceiving and heeding Sam’s unspoken message. “Sleep well, big day tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, you should remember that and stop drinking now,” Sam remarked. “You’re gonna pay for this tomorrow, and it’s going to be a long day.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Alec said, waving a hand in dismissal. “Good night, kids.”

  “See you in the morning.” Sam leaned over to firmly shake John’s hand. “Thanks again.”

  “Any time.” John smiled back. “No problem. You both have a good night, now.”

  Sam turned to Lydia and held out a hand towards the doors. “After you.”

  Lydia gave a tight smile and walked out a step ahead of him.

  They walked together to
the staircase in silence. They went down the stairway to the third floor, and turned to descend to the second floor when he asked her, “You sure you’re alright?”

  Lydia nodded. “Just a little… thrown. And I'm still very buzzed. And tired. Not to mention embarrassed.”

  “Embarrassed?” Sam’s brows furrowed as he studied her. “Why? You didn’t do anything wrong. That guy was too drunk, and a jackass.”

  “I know, but you know what?” She shot quickly down the rest of the stairs. “That whole scene made me kind of feel like a jackass.”

  At the bottom of the staircase, Sam stepped in front of her and grasped her arm very gently. “Hey. Lydia. Could you look at me, please?”

  She looked up into his face. He was staring at her, obviously trying to read her, his expression a mixture of concern and confusion.

  “Are you upset with me for what I did?” he asked.

  “No,” she said firmly.

  “Could you tell me what’s going on, then?” The side of his mouth curved up, but his eyes were still troubled, searching hers. “I only met you this morning, I don’t know you well enough to know how your mind works. And right now, I’m at a total loss. I don't know what's going through your head, and I'd really like to. So do me a favor and just tell me.”

  She pressed her lips together and looked away from him for a moment. Only met this morning. Why did that already feel like a long time ago? Spotting an ornate, cushioned bench midway down the hall, she said, “Let's sit down.”

  He followed her without a word and sat beside her. They leaned back against the wall for a minute in silence; then he turned to face her, and waited.

  “You need to understand something,” she began softly. “You know I just got divorced. Like, just got divorced, like, three days ago, as I told you. It doesn’t seem real, that it’s finally done, but I'm so glad it is… it hasn’t been the worst divorce in history, mind you, but it’s been far from pleasant, or easy, or amicable.” She cleared her throat, fidgeted with the clasp on her necklace beneath her hair. “It was my idea. I wanted it. After nine years, the last three of which were pretty awful, I asked him to leave. We fought, then were going to battle it out for custody, but managed to work it out ourselves before it went to trial.