Tinsel

by Perry, Devney

  She smiled and took my hand. “Thank you, Ms. Kendrick.”

  “Please, call me Sofia. And thank you.” A rush of joy surged as she left the living room. But I stopped her again. “Carrie?”

  “Yes, Ms. Ken—Sofia?”

  “It would be my pleasure to meet your wife one day. Please bring her by.”

  “I’m sure she’d love to meet you too.”

  “Oh.” I held up a finger before she could leave. “And can you add bread to the menu? I’d like some sourdough or a rye to go with the soup.”

  In the morning, I’d tell my trainer he was going to have to find a balance between a workout and a diet where I could eat carbs.

  Carrie smiled wider, nodded and disappeared from the room.

  I sat back down on the couch, too giddy to go back to thumbing through the magazines that had piled up while I’d been in Montana.

  I made a mental note to ask Carrie to cancel all but a handful. Then I picked up my phone and emailed my business manager, informing him of my change with Carrie and requesting he terminate Sandrine.

  Once the email was sent, temptation got the better of me. I thumbed through my contacts and pulled up Dakota’s name just to see it on the screen.

  I hadn’t talked to him since I’d left Montana.

  I’d thought about him constantly though, wondering if he was working or maybe on a trip to visit Arthur.

  Did he miss me at all?

  I missed him, certain things especially. I missed the way it felt to lean against his chest and have those long arms wrapped around my back. I missed burying my face in his pillow and soaking up his scent. I missed his easy nature, how steady the world felt when he was around.

  God, I wanted to call him. I wanted to hear his deep voice and feel it in my bones. I wanted to hear some longing in his voice.

  Our good-bye hadn’t been enough. Those moments in his truck had been cut too short. This was supposed to have been a temporary thing. An easy New Year’s fling. Not ten days where I’d nearly given away my heart.

  It’s over now.

  As much as I wanted to dial his number, I kept scrolling through names, up and down in a mindless motion. The loneliness closed in on me, like it had in quiet moments like this for the past two days.

  My finger paused over my sister’s name. Without second-guessing myself, I pushed her number.

  “Hi,” she answered on the second ring. Her usual typing in the background was missing. “Are you back?”

  “Yes. I’m certain you’re at work, but I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me tonight?” Another split-second decision that felt surprisingly easy.

  “Where?”

  “Would you want to come over here? I was thinking pizza.” With extra cheese because it made me think of Dakota.

  “I could eat pizza. My trainer won’t be happy though.”

  “Screw the trainers,” I muttered.

  She laughed. “I tried that once, remember? It didn’t end well.”

  “Oh, yeah.” I giggled, remembering one of Aubrey’s few relationships. She’d fallen for her trainer during her junior year of college, and they’d hooked up a few times. They’d gotten adventurous one quiet Saturday night, and he’d met her in the empty weight room. Her one and only failure had been getting caught on her knees by a custodian.

  She’d sworn off men for the rest of college.

  “I have a meeting until seven,” she said. “Then I’ll be over.”

  “I’ll be here. Bye.” I hung up the phone, surprised at how well that had gone. I’d honestly expected to be blown off.

  I stood from the couch, wanting to stop Carrie before she left so she knew I didn’t need her to make dinner. Just as I was about to walk out of the living room, I paused and took stock of the decor.

  With my latest redesign, I’d gone for a classic, contemporary look. My couches were beige. I had an upholstered black and cream striped settee and matching ottoman. The enormous black cube that served as my coffee table had a tasteful arrangement of white roses and gardenias.

  Collectively, it was gorgeous, my favorite of all the designs I’d done for this penthouse. But it was missing something.

  What was it missing? I frowned as I glanced around the room. Maybe some color? I scrunched my nose at the idea. Textures? With the stripes, the jacquard pillows and my faux fur throw, any other textures would be overkill.

  So what was it? I’d never second-guessed my design decisions before. But I couldn’t shake this feeling that it was wrong. What was this home lacking?

  I sighed, hating the funk I’d been in for the last two days, knowing it was because I was missing a man.

  But it had been worth it.

  My Dakota hangover had been so completely worth it.

  “You’re different.” Aubrey gave me a weird look before taking a bite of our cheese pizza. We’d gotten the best brick oven crust in SoHo, according to my doorman.

  I shrugged. “I’m in a funk.”

  “Because of the magazine?”

  “Yes and no. It’s made me do some soul-searching. But my funk is mostly because I met a guy in Montana.”

  “What? But I thought you were ‘working.’”

  “Don’t do that.” I scowled. “Don’t use air quotes. Just because I don’t have an important job like you doesn’t mean I wasn’t working.”

  “You’re right. Sorry.” She tossed down her slice onto her plate. “I’ve been a bitch lately, haven’t I?”

  “You said it first,” I muttered.

  “I’m in a funk too.”

  “Why?” I took a huge bite, savoring the cheesiness. It was a good pizza. But it wasn’t nearly as good as the ones Dakota made in the bar.

  “I got dumped.”

  I choked on my bite and sauce dribbled out of my lips. “What?”

  “Swallow.” Aubrey rolled her eyes. “That’s gross.”

  I chewed as fast as humanly possible, chased the bite down with some water and wiped my mouth. “You got dumped? By who?”

  “My boyfriend. We were together for about five months.”

  “Five months?” I’d brought Kevin to a family function five days after we’d started dating. “Who is he? Why didn’t we meet him?”

  Her face twisted in nothing but misery. “He’s a lawyer at the firm where Logan used to work when he lived here. We met a few years ago and bumped into each other this summer at a work function and started dating. I couldn’t tell anyone because I signed a contract.”

  “Like Fifty Shades of Grey? Because if so, stop right now. There are things I really don’t need to know about my sister.”

  “No.” She laughed, swatting me away. “Like a nondisclosure contract with his firm. Technically, I was a client. So we kept it secret. And that was the reason we never worked. He wanted me to make an announcement. I knew it would cause a lot of trouble with the company, so I told him we needed to keep it secret for a while longer. He got upset and decided we’d just end it altogether.”

  “Oh.” I reached across the table in my dining room and took her hand. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” She gave me a sad smile. “He wasn’t the one. I just . . . I really liked him.”

  “Did you love him?”

  Her chin quivered. “I think so. It’s hard. I love my job. The company is my life. I wish he had understood that too.”

  I didn’t have any advice to offer so I just held her hand. In true Aubrey fashion, she pulled herself together quickly and kept eating. Aubrey would never quit her job or put it at risk, especially for a man, but for the first time, I think she resented it some.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  I nodded. “Sure.”

  “Have you ever gotten your heart broken?”

  “Huh?” How did she not already know the answer to that question?

  “Have you ever gotten your heart broken?” she repeated.

  “Yeah. A lot. Do you not remember that both of my husbands were with oth
er women during our marriages?”

  “Yeah, but you didn’t love them.”

  “What?” My mouth fell open. “Of course I loved them.”

  “You did?”

  I shook my head, dumbfounded. “Why would I have married them if I didn’t love them?”

  “I just thought it was for show.”

  For once, I’d thought my sister and I would be able to talk without arguing. But now I was angry, and I’d had just about enough of her judgment.

  “No,” I huffed. “It wasn’t for show. And yes, I’ve had my heart broken. They might not have turned out to be good men, but that didn’t make it hurt any less when they betrayed me.”

  “I’m sorry, Sofia. I’m really sorry. I didn’t know. You moved on from Kevin so fast. The same with Bryson. I didn’t realize you were hurting.”

  Her apology cooled my rising temper. “I was.”

  “Are you still?”

  “No. I did love them, and it was painful. But looking back, I don’t think I was as in love with them as I let myself believe.” I guess her observation wasn’t entirely off-base after all. Probably why it was easier to let it go.

  “We’re a pair. It’s a good thing Mom and Dad have Logan. He’s their only shot at grandchildren.”

  “That’s the truth.”

  We both laughed, but then Aubrey’s smile fell away. “Why aren’t we friends?”

  My heart clenched. “Because you don’t really like me much.”

  “That’s not true.” She looked me right in the eyes. “I love you. But I don’t understand you.”

  “Why?” The reporter had pegged me after a one-hour interview. Aubrey should have figured me out years ago. “What don’t you understand?”

  “You have so much potential, and you waste it. That baffles me.”

  “I’m not you. Or Dad. I’ve never wanted work to be my life. You guys keep trying to shove me into your idea of what I should be doing. But don’t you see? That’s not me.”

  “We don’t do that.”

  “Aubrey,” I said gently. “You do.”

  She thought about it for a few moments. The air in the dining room whirled in the silence as I waited. Then she slumped her shoulders and nodded. “Maybe you’re right. But you hold my job against me just as much as I hold your lifestyle against you.”

  “I do,” I admitted. I’d fought so hard to make sure I wasn’t like them that their professional success had become something I judged. “I’m sorry. Can’t we just accept one another as we are?”

  She nodded. “I’d like that.”

  “I’m kind of lonely.”

  Aubrey huffed. “You and me both.”

  “You are? But you’re always with people.”

  “Yeah, work people. I’m not their friend though. I’m their boss. Do you know the last time I actually had a friend? It was in college. As soon as I started working, people were wary of me because I was the boss’s daughter. Then I became the boss. I’m not complaining, because I really do love my job. But it’s lonely at the top.”

  “I’d like to be your friend.” This was a strange conversation to have with my sister, but I was on the edge of my seat, waiting and hoping she wanted more of a relationship.

  “We’ve made it through one meal without getting into a fight.” She grinned. “I’d say there’s hope.”

  “Me too.” I blew out the breath I’d been holding and took another huge bite of pizza.

  Aubrey did the same, and we ate with smiles until we were both full.

  “Do you want to go get a drink?” she asked as we stared at plates full of leftover crust. “It’s been a long week.”

  “Sure. But I’m not changing.”

  My sister looked at me like I’d grown two heads.

  I hadn’t done much with myself today. I’d showered and dried my hair, but it was hanging straight and limp. I hadn’t used my curling iron or styling products since I’d come home. I’d also put on my new minimalist makeup after I’d gotten home from the trainer’s this morning.

  On top of that, I was in my Montana apparel: skinny jeans, a hoodie I’d unearthed from my closet and the tennis shoes I’d stolen from Thea even though they were too big.

  They reminded me of Dakota.

  “Who are you?” Aubrey asked.

  It was a simple question, one I should have been able to answer. “I don’t know.”

  That was the problem.

  I didn’t know who I was. The version of myself I used to know, I didn’t like.

  Aubrey gave me a sympathetic smile and stood. She was wearing a navy pencil skirt, a blue pin-striped shirt and nude patent pumps. Her blazer had been discarded over the back of a spare chair. “Let’s go somewhere low-key.”

  “Sounds good.” I stood and gathered our dishes. Instead of putting it all in the sink for Carrie to deal with in the morning, I trashed the box and rinsed the dishes, putting them in the dishwasher.

  “Your driver or mine?” Aubrey asked, taking out her phone.

  “Yours. Or we could get a cab, maybe?”

  Her jaw dropped. “I’m worried about what happened to you in Montana.”

  Neither of us had been in a cab in decades because . . . germs.

  I laughed. “Then call your driver. I don’t want to bother Glen. He has young kids, and it’s already dark. I’m sure the last thing he wants is to come and pick us up so we can get a drink.”

  “But it’s his job. We pay them to be on call at all times.”

  “Then call yours.”

  She already was. Her fingers flew over her phone as she messaged him for a ride.

  Thirty minutes later, we were at a small bar not too far from my building. It was quiet and dim, and we chose a booth in the corner.

  “What can I get you?” the server asked.

  “I’d like a huckleberry mojito.”

  Now it was his turn to look at me like I’d grown two heads. “What’s a huckleberry?”

  “Never mind,” I muttered. “I’ll just have a glass of red.”

  Before I’d gone to Lark Cove the first time, I hadn’t known what a huckleberry was either. They were a berry local to the Pacific Northwest.

  “Same.” Aubrey held up two fingers.

  As the server left to get our drinks, I looked over to the bar, hoping to see a snack tray. I wasn’t hungry, but I wanted a peanut.

  My Dakota hangover was getting worse.

  “We kind of got off topic at your place.” Aubrey stowed her phone in her handbag, giving me her full attention. “Tell me about this guy you met in Montana.”

  “Did you ever meet Dakota? He works for Thea at the bar.”

  Her eyes turned to saucers. “Black eyes, dark hair, scorch-the-earth hot Dakota?”

  “That’s the one.” Though she’d forgotten sweet, kind and unforgettable. “We had a fling.”

  “You don’t do flings.”

  “No, I don’t.” I had relationships. Always. “But you know, it was good. We ended on good terms—also something I don’t normally do.”

  I spent the time it took us to drink two glasses of wine telling Aubrey all about my time in Montana. I told her about Dakota and how he’d shown me a different side to the world. How ten days in his simple lifestyle had been more fulfilling than the elaborate charade I’d created in my thirty-two years.

  “Do you think you guys could try something long-distance?” Aubrey asked.

  “No. We totally connected, you know? But we have such different lives. I think we were perfect for a fling. Long-term, we’d probably end up hating one another.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Nothing. Something.” I just didn’t know what yet.

  We sipped the dregs of our wine, and I glanced at the clock above the bar. “It’s late. I guess I’d better let you get home. You probably have early morning meetings.”

  Aubrey smiled, not groaning like I would have at the prospect of getting up at five to be at work by six. “That’s probably
a good idea. I’m tired.”

  We slid out of our booth, leaving some cash on the table for the drinks. Then we went outside and into the cold, where her driver was waiting.

  The ride home was short, and I hugged Aubrey good-bye from the back of her town car before hustling inside my building and upstairs. The moment the penthouse door closed behind me, I leaned back against it and smiled.

  Because I had a sister.

  She’d always been there, but tonight, I’d had a friend too.

  I dug my phone from my purse, not questioning or doubting my actions, and pulled up Dakota’s number.

  My heart raced as it rang once then twice. When he didn’t answer on the third ring, I panicked, ready to hang up and forget it had ever happened. But then his voice came on the line and all my worries went away.

  “Hey.”

  That voice. I twirled in a circle as I walked down the hall to my bedroom. “Hi. Am I bothering you?”

  “Nope. Just at the bar. It’s dead. I’m watching the game on TV until it’s time to close.”

  “You should go home.”

  “Yeah,” he muttered, sounding melancholy. Lonely.

  He sounded hungover too.

  The corner of my mouth pulled up, loving that my misery had company. “How have you been?”

  “Meh. Fine.”

  “Is this okay? Me calling you?”

  “Yeah. Thought about calling you yesterday too.”

  My heart soared. “It’s weird to just shut things off, isn’t it?”

  “I was thinking the same thing yesterday.” He chuckled. “You glad to be home?”

  “Yes and no. I feel off, like I need to make some changes.”

  “Find your passion?”

  “Something like that.” I smiled at how well he knew me.

  “Will you call me when you find it?”

  When I discovered my passion, the person I would undoubtedly talk to first was Dakota Magee. “Count on it.”

  Four months later . . .

  “Congratulations, bud.”

  I clinked my beer bottle with my uncle’s. “Thanks.”

  We were sitting on the back porch of his and Hazel’s lake cottage. The snow in the yard had finally melted away, revealing the soggy grass underneath. Across the yard, the water from the lake lapped the gravel shoreline.