by Piper Rayne
I glance at the clock when I walk in.
“No, you’re not late. Hannah’s early.” Victoria smiles and I see another picture is adorning her desk now.
“Who’s in the new picture?” I ask.
She picks it up and it’s her, Reed, Jade, and Henry on the SeaDog at Navy Pier.
“Cute.”
I head down the hall, hearing two sets of heels following me.
“I have no funny dating story for you guys this morning,” I say. I have a feeling our Monday morning divorcee dating stories are about to fizzle out unless Hannah hops on the dating bandwagon.
“We know,” Hannah says.
They file in, Hannah taking a seat and Victoria standing at the door on the off chance she has to grab the phone. Our usual positions.
I stare at the tall crate on my desk. “What is this?”
“Delivery was waiting outside the door this morning.” Victoria’s face morphs into a sappy love look like she’s watching someone experience their happily ever after once more.
“And you guys don’t think I need privacy to open it?”
“Not really.” Hannah glances over her shoulder at Victoria and then back my way, shaking her head. “Come on. We’ve been making bets.”
I drop my bags on my chair and untie the ribbons around it. The wood creaks open and a plant, an alive plant lives inside.
“I’m going to kill it.” I pull it out and place it on my desk.
Victoria steps into the room and I know that mom instinct of hers wants to know exactly what it is, so she can google it.
I pluck the card out.
It was nice going down memory lane with you this weekend. Thank you for the opportunity to make new ones.
Love Dean
As much as my heart pitter patters, I don’t cling to the note and press it to my chest like some love-sick teenager. I place it neatly on my desk and lean down to sniff it.
“Jasmine,” Victoria says, and I roll my eyes.
“Seriously, Vic.”
She shrugs. “I could smell it when I brought it in.”
I can tell she’s lying.
“Poor Jade,” Hannah and I both say in unison.
“When you two have a daughter, you can judge.” She waggles her finger between the two of us. “A plant is not a diary.”
“I don’t remember the card saying your name on it,” I say in jest.
“It wasn’t hard to figure out, okay? I searched the company name and voila, there were only a few options that came in that crate.”
Hannah and I laugh at our neurotic and impatient assistant who is always one step ahead of us. I guess we know why.
“So?” I cock one eyebrow at Vic.
She smiles but says nothing.
“Tell me,” I force her to tell me what she found out.
“Jasmine is the flower of memories.” She bites her lip and I shake my head.
“Yeah, I figured it from the note, but just wanted to make sure you were on the ball.”
The phone rings and Victoria says, “You know you love that I have my PhD in Google.” She leaves the room.
After she’s gone, Hannah stays in her seat, her legs crossed, her hands clasped together with her elbows on either armrest. “Nice weekend?”
“Yeah.” I place the crate next to the trashcan, sliding the plant to the corner of my desk, placing the instructions nearby to read once I get settled.
I pull out my laptop and planner and position everything the way I like it on my desk.
“That’s it? That’s all you’re giving me?” Hannah asks. “Memories mean you talked about the past.”
“Well, we cleared up a little, yes.”
“Did you sleep with him?” No hesitation. Point blank. Again, let me be reincarnated into Hannah Crowley in my next life.
“No, but I really wanted to.” I lean back in my chair, remembering his chest pressed to mine and how it made me weak in the knees.
“Why didn’t you?”
Victoria’s heels click at rapid pace down the hall. “I can’t believe you’re leaving me out of the loop.” She heaves a breath. “It was just Jagger.”
Hannah laughs.
Victoria rolls her eyes.
“I need to meet this guy at some point,” I say, intrigued by her ex-boss in L.A.
“Trust me—” Victoria puts up her hand.
“You don’t,” Hannah finishes.
“What did I miss?” Vic asks.
Hannah slides over and Victoria sits in her chair. I guess RISE is taking a time out to hear about my date.
“She didn’t sleep with him,” Hannah says like one of those reporters on TMZ.
“Why?” Vic’s all wide eyes. “If it’s a body insecurity thing, you’re insane. Talk to me after your stomach has been stretched out to here.” She holds her hands a foot out in front of her.
Internally, I cringe but ignore her comment.
Truth is I was self-conscious for a little bit, but then I realized if he doesn’t like me with my clothes off then that’s his problem.
“No. I just…I wanted to. So badly, but we went on this walk with his dog and—”
“He has a dog?” Victoria’s eyes grow soft again. “Jade’s been begging me for one.” She looks over at Hannah.
“You should take Lucy. We’re not jiving at the moment.”
Hannah’s dog Lucy is a German Shepherd puppy who’s yet to figure out house breaking or the fact that a La Perla bra is not a play thing. I’d give my right tit for a La Perla bra. Then again, I wouldn’t have a tit to fit into it if I did that. Okay, focus, Chels.
“You will. She’s a puppy. Give her some time,” Victoria says.
“My bank account is about to cut her off.”
We laugh because none of us is quite sure why Hannah got a dog, let alone a big guard dog.
“Back to you not having sex.” Hannah’s back straightens and they both sit at attention like two teacher’s pets.
“I wanted to see what it was like to be around him without the sexual aspect of our relationship. We were either fucking like bunnies or not speaking at all when we were married. I was enjoying this in between we’ve found, and you know how sex can screw everything up.”
Hannah nods.
“It didn’t with Reed and I,” Victoria says.
“I hate to break this to you, but Reed is a great guy. He wouldn’t have let it. Dean runs hot. Sex has never been a problem with us. The daily living, the casual day to day encounters and communication is where we don’t thrive.”
“Are you suggesting that my sex life is boring?” She crosses her arms over her chest.
“Not at all. I’m sure Reed rocks your world, but you have to admit he’s probably ready to cuddle before you are.”
She uncrosses her arms and her silence says I’m right.
“There’s nothing wrong with Reed. He’s perfect.” Hannah places her hand on Victoria’s.
“Okay, because I drew blood the other night I’ll have you know.” Victoria nods her head about a million times per second as though neither of us believe her.
Reed’s so fucking hot there’s no way the guy doesn’t know how to work a woman’s body. The nice factor of him says he’s probably perfected his moves and knows what Vic wants before she does.
“Dean’s just a different species than Reed, that’s all I’m saying.”
“I think it’s good,” Hannah says. “Keep those legs closed until you’re ready to give up the milk.”
We all laugh because the whole analogy is such bullshit. If I give him a taste of my milk and he doesn’t want to buy the cow than fuck him, I don’t want the asshole farmer.
“I’m losing my will, but I was proud to hang on strong that night,” I say.
They rise from their chairs. The workday needs to begin at some point.
“We’ll let you go call and thank him,” Victoria says, ever the romantic.
“I think I might run over to his office at lunch and than
k him instead.” I bite my lip wondering if I can walk into his office and not imagine that kiss we shared against his desk.
“Watch it or you’ll end up having an afternoon delight,” Hannah says on her way out.
We all laugh and then they’re gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I pick up my phone to text Dean, but I think a surprise is so much better.
* * *
You’d think there was a city grandfather clock that chimed at noon from the swarms of people rushing down the streets to get lunch. I’m spoiled from having The Sandwich Place on the main floor of my office building.
They know us so well now, half the time I don’t have to give my order.
The sun glares off the million-dollar skyscrapers and onto the city streets, so I decide to walk instead of taking a taxi to Dean’s office. I’m still crossing my fingers he’s not in some sort of meeting or lunch date.
I round the corner after having been shouldered five times on the walk over and smile as his building comes into view.
I’m in so much trouble.
As slow as I want this relationship to go, my body is not relenting on getting what it wants—Dean.
I press the walk button, glancing at everyone around me with their earbuds on and missing the beautiful spring day. The city is so much more alive when the weather is nice.
My mood is light and buoyant as I cross the street. Even the cab’s horn blaring at me when I’m not fully on the other side yet doesn’t make me flip him off.
Turning left, there’s a big group of men stepping out from his building’s doors. After the group of men, Dean emerges out of the building. He pauses, running his hand through his dark strands. I admire the man who took my heart so long ago. The one who refused to give it back the last five years even if he didn’t know it. Even with the stressed look on his face, I can’t help but notice his tall body, lean muscle, and strong shoulders. I’m not close enough, but I can imagine his heart shaped lips, piercing dark eyes and straight nose all outlined with a chiseled jaw.
A woman walks by, her predatory gaze on him the entire time she passes.
Yeah, hands off. He’s mine.
I step forward, just as he swivels on his dress shoes, heading in the opposite direction.
“Dean,” I call out, but the loud sound of a delivery truck revving its engine drowns out my voice.
I increase my speed, figuring I’ll catch him at the next light. Surely at lunch time in the city he won’t get that far in front of me. I imagine covering his eyes and him wrapping his arms around my middle lifting me with the surprise.
The light turns just as I’m midway through the block.
Shit.
“Dean!” I yell again, but he doesn’t hear me.
A few people glance over at me and I ignore their inquisitive looks.
Damn. I didn’t wear the best heels to try and chase someone down. Seduction? Yes. The hundred meter dash? Not so much.
I make the crosswalk in time, but I’m panting when I reach the other side. Continuing my pursuit, I see him sneak into a McDonald’s under the Brooks Building. My footsteps slow when the red hand flashes at me. He’ll be there for a while at this time of day, so I have some time.
Casually, I wait at the corner for the crosswalk to light up, scouring the windows for a glimpse of where he is, but it’s overfilled with people coming in and out and I can’t find him.
“Oogum Boogum Song” by Brenton Wood streams out of the window of a cab sitting at the light and my head and shoulders start moving. The best part of spring and summer is the different kinds of music coming out of the cars. The city gives you its own soundtrack during the warmer months.
I cross the next street and finally those golden arches are prominent on the awnings in front of me. I finally reached him.
Swinging the doors open, I step into the foul smell of perfume mixed with cologne mixed with fast food and it clogs my nostrils. My eyes search one way and then back the other way.
No Dean.
I wait by the front door to see if maybe he went to the bathroom, but after seeing five men go in and out, I doubt that’s where he is. Walking over to the bathrooms, I wait outside and when a man comes out I stop him.
“Anyone else in there?”
“Well, lady I’m an eyes-front kinda guy.” He steps away and then turns back around. “But I think I was alone.”
My shoulders sag and I refresh what I saw in my mind. He ducked under the awnings and I saw him walk through a door.
Leaving McDonald’s and looking like a lost girl from Kansas, I search for any other door he might have gone into. I pull out my phone, when I see nothing—no other signs that indicate there’s another food joint in the building—figuring I’ll forget the element of surprise, and just text him.
Me: Hey, where are you eating for lunch?
I wait for the three dots as people rush by me talking about their bosses, their schedules, their kids, their marriages. It’s Monday, which means there isn’t much optimism to be found even with the nice weather.
A nicely dressed woman opens up a door down from me and I quickly follow. Maybe that’s where he went.
She walks up a set of stairs, turning when she hears me and smiles. I return her smile.
Is this creepy? A little. Desperate? So much so I don’t want to admit it to myself.
She turns right into a room and I follow. My feet freeze when I enter the room.
“Are you new?” A man approaches me from behind. How did I not hear him?
“Um…”
“No need to be shy. Come on in.” He ushers me into the room.
“I think I’m in the wrong place,” I say, trying to move back the way I came.
I freeze when I spot the woman in the short skirt and revealing blouse talking to Dean at a table with coffee and sandwiches placed in the middle. His lips are straight as she carries on about something.
I glance around the room. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mumble.
The circle of chairs.
A man at the front says hello to a few people and heads lift in his direction because he’s the man in charge.
No. This cannot be happening.
I back step quietly as everyone moves to their seats. I’m thankful Dean hasn’t seen me yet.
“Please, come in. You don’t have to speak,” the counselor waves me in and all eyes, including Dean’s, land on me.
He tilts his head, one eyebrow raised.
“I, um…”
Speak Chelsea. Speak!
“I was you once, I understand. Come and sit by me.” The woman who was talking with Dean stands and loops her arm through mine, guiding me to a chair right across from Dean.
Our eyes meet and the smirk on his lips says he’s never going to let me live this down.
Chapter Eighteen
“If she doesn’t want to join, I don’t think we should force her,” Dean says. The entire room stares at him like he’s an asshole.
“Don’t be silly.” The woman seated beside me shoots him a mean look and then directs her attention back to me. “I’m Pam and just stay and listen.”
“I can’t.” I rush to my feet. “I’m very sorry. It was by accident that I ended up here and I shouldn’t hear the things that are talked about here.”
Pam’s head rears back.
“What do you think this is?” Dean asks, the smile unable to stop playing on his lips. “We could be a swinging group looking for new members.”
I narrow my eyes at him and then look at the instructor.
“This is Alcohol Anonymous?” He nods.
“I’m not an alcoholic.”
The instructor stands. “Can I ask why you’re here then?”
My eyes flick to Dean, the instructor follows my gaze.
“You know Dean?”
“She’s my ex-wife.” For some reason, hearing Dean call me his ex out loud hurts. We’ve come so far from that word, but how can I be mad? It’s the tr
uth.
All their shoulders fall and their eyes swim with apology.
No. Nope. Not doing this.
How much has he told them about me? About us?
“I’m very sorry for intruding,” I say and rush out before anyone can put their arm around me or try to comfort me.
Dean follows me, which I expected I suppose.
“Chels,” he calls out to the empty hall.
“I’m so sorry, I went to your building to surprise you for lunch and then I was trying to catch up to you and followed you here.”
“Why did you follow me? Because you didn’t trust me?” He pushes his hands into his pockets.
“I yelled to get your attention but there was so much noise on the street and then I texted you and you never answered.”
He pulls out his phone and nods. “I silence it when I come here.”
“Oh.”
There’s an awkward silence between us for a few seconds before he speaks. “I’ve been sober three years now.”
“That’s great.” I hope he can hear the sincerity, and if I’m honest—relief, in my voice.
He nods slowly, his head moving up and down, his eyes on me the entire time. “Do you want to stay?” The cocky twinkle that’s always in his eye is replaced with a timidness I’ve rarely seen.
“No, I shouldn’t hear their stories and private thoughts.”
“They don’t care and plus, I’m talking today, and I want you to hear it. I think it will help us move forward.”
“I can’t, Dean.” Panic wells up inside my chest until I feel like I can’t breathe.
He’s already shaking his head. “Don’t worry, I promise it will be fine.”
Both his hands slide down my arms and he links our fingers, pulling me away from the wall. “I want you to see this part of me.”
He leads me down the hall, both of our dress shoes clicking on the linoleum floor. When we enter, the instructor eyes the two empty chairs.
We sit in them and I feel all the eyes on me. I’m not one of them…in fact, I left one of them while he was in the deep throws of addiction. They can’t see me as a good person.
“This is Chelsea,” Dean says.
Everyone says hello.
