Take My V-Card

by Layla Valentine

  “Ms. Campbell?”

  “Come on in,” I said with a grateful smile. Yes, please bring me work. All the work. As long as I was working, I wouldn’t have to think.

  “I’m trying to decide between these two colors for the banner ad,” Jon said as he turned his tablet toward me. “This one is the same color as the model’s eyes, so I was going to choose that, but Maria says it makes him look like he has no eyes.”

  My heart lurched as I took the picture from him. The model’s eyes, the focal point of the ad, were a unique color; one I had only seen once before. They were the color of the ocean back home; the color of Blake’s eyes. Wrestling myself under control, I smiled at Jon.

  “Maria’s right,” I told him. “Go with the lavender, it’s a better contrast.”

  “Thank you,” he said, his shoulders drooping. “Color and I are at odds every day.”

  “You’ll get it,” I promised him. “It just takes practice.”

  Just like everything else, I reminded myself. Practice making friends. Practice forgetting about Blake. Practice eating… Nope, my stomach lurched before I even finished the thought. Maybe I’d go vegetarian for a while…

  I managed to avoid being completely rude that evening, ordering a cinnamon drink to block the foreign aromas. I didn’t begrudge my coworkers their treats, but my body rejected that they were anything resembling food.

  The three other managers slipped back and forth from Icelandic to English, and I let the conversation wash over me without trying too hard to engage. I could understand far more than I could speak, so I simply sat back and allowed their stories to weave images in my mind.

  The longer we drank, the more Icelandic was spoken, and the more out of place I felt. So I drank away the feelings, laughed at the jokes I understood, and nibbled on biscuits.

  “Dance?” Dominic, the head of accounts, asked me.

  “Sure!”

  I followed him to the dance floor, my tipsy brain assessing him in a new way. Dominic was on the shorter side—barely taller than me, with a little extra fluff around his waist—but he was cute, with deep blue eyes and dark hair, a full mouth and animated expressions. He was no Blake, but… Damn it, Rhona, stop that!

  Forcing all thoughts of Blake from my mind, I danced with Dominic until the bar began to shut down for the night. Bidding goodbye to our coworkers, he walked me outside.

  “Share a cab?” he asked, his expressive face making his romantic intentions clear.

  “Not tonight,” I told him gently. “I’ve had a little too much to drink.”

  He smiled in understanding, then kissed my hand in farewell. “Until tomorrow, then.”

  “Until tomorrow.”

  I managed to keep my eyes dry until the moment I got home. My big, generic apartment greeted me with big, cold windows. Succumbing to the homesickness, I curled up on the couch and cried.

  Chapter 15

  Rhona

  The next day went a little better. Going out with the bosses had lent me a bit of credibility around the office, and everyone was a little more relaxed around me. Breathing easier, I accepted their acceptance at face value, unwilling to risk examining it and finding it empty.

  I settled into my office, wishing that I could hear any news from home; even silly little things, like Nina’s wedding colors, or Sara’s latest conquest. The universe heard my wish, apparently, but rather than being news from either of my best friends, it was an email from Patty. My heart sank when I read the subject line.

  I think you need to see this…

  “What did he do now?” I muttered angrily as I opened the email, the anger in my tone disguising the anxiety throbbing in my chest.

  Pictures. Dozens of pictures, each of a billboard, web banner, or stills of video ads, each with the same message: Never let them go.

  Clearing the ball of emotion from my throat, I clicked the link. Surely he wasn’t using my leaving as the basis for a new ad campaign…? But the little story on the other end of the link didn’t use my name or my face, or even any specifics. It was simply a personal appeal from Blake Lexington to his customers.

  “Twice, I had something perfect,” he wrote. “Twice, I threw it all away. Matchmakr is a powerful gift; use it wisely. Find your perfect match. And when you do…never, never let them go.”

  Tears sprang to my eyes, and I whisked them away furiously. How dare he manipulate my emotions when I was so close to being over him?

  “It’s not like he sent these to me,” I told myself. “There’s no plea for forgiveness, no blame on me. He’s just accepting that he lost someone…perfect.” I laughed through my tears at that. “There you go, he probably isn’t even talking about me, I’m hardly perfect.”

  But I knew he was, and I struggled with that. He thought I was his perfect match. I had thought the same about him, hadn’t I? Didn’t I still?

  “What’s that old saying,” I asked myself as I pushed away from the computer to pace the office. “Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice…?”

  As if drawn by a magnet, I went back to the computer and clicked through all of the images again, visiting the link again and again. There was no push in my direction, nothing that said, “Hey, Rhona, look! I fixed it, aren’t you proud of me?” There was nothing but resignation tinged with despair.

  He stayed on my mind all day, as I went through the motions of keeping the office running smoothly, of cultivating only the best web content. As always, I ran into difficulty overseeing the local SEO ads; not being fluent in the language or its subtleties was becoming more of a problem every day. Fortunately, the managers were more willing to help me today than they had been in the past.

  Dominic shot me frequent smiles, and I knew he was going to make a move sometime soon. I played dumb, returning his flirtatious smiles with professional ones, dampening his enthusiasm as well as I could without actually talking to him. I didn’t even know what I would say. Sorry, Dominic, I’m completely available but my heart is stuck in the States? No, better to avoid him entirely.

  Later that night, after working harder than necessary trying to keep my mind occupied, I finally shut down the office and locked up. It was later than I had ever left the office, and the tall building was completely dark, as were its neighbors. Breathing a heavy sigh, I looked up at the sky and was instantly overwhelmed. There, fluttering above me, the northern lights played across the sky.

  In the three months I had been here, I had never seen them. Light pollution in Reykjavik kept the ribbons at bay most of the time. But not tonight. Why?

  His words floated back to me. “Everything’s connected. We’re made of the same stuff as the stars, that’s a fact. We are the universe, Rhona, and the universe is us. That’s why signs mean something to me, you know? Even if there isn’t a God up there organizing everything, everything organizes itself anyway. Like a sneeze.”

  “The universe is a sneeze,” I murmured in the cold Icelandic night, gazing up at the northern lights. “Not the most romantic message you could leave me with, Blake.”

  But it did the trick. Maybe he was right. Maybe everything was connected. Maybe Patty sending me those photos today, the very same day that the aurora decided to break through, meant that I was supposed to be ruminating on Blake right now. Maybe it meant that it wasn’t all lost, that there was still a chance for us.

  I took a deep breath, wishing Nina was around to tell me if I was making a mistake. I shook my head at myself and pulled out my phone. If I was, then it was my mistake to make, right?

  The ringing phone rattled my nerves, but not as much as his voice when he answered.

  “Blake Lexington,” he said, sounding anxious.

  “It’s Rhona. No, don’t talk, just listen. If you will meet me in Reykjavik tomorrow night, I’ll hear you out.”

  I hung up before he could answer. I didn’t want to hear that he was too busy to drop everything and make a nine-hour flight with no warning. I didn’t want to hear that he couldn’t get tickets on
such short notice. I didn’t want to hear any of it, no matter how reasonable or rational the reason was. If he wanted me, he would make it happen. He had enough money to move mountains if he wanted to, enough power to put whole industries on hold if he so desired. He could make it to Reykjavik on time.

  “He can,” I told myself firmly. “Even if he won’t, I know he can. I need to know if he will.”

  All the way home and into a restless sleep, I argued with myself that I was being unreasonable. That it was too much to ask of him. Somewhere, deep inside, I had decided that his only chance with me would require a massive gesture, and in spite of everything, I wasn’t going to back down from that. I needed to know for sure that he was actually invested in me as a person, and not just a prop.

  My internal disagreement just about ruined the following day from the moment I woke up. I sprang out of bed two minutes before my alarm went off, panicking that I had slept the day away and was going to miss his call. I hadn’t, of course.

  I spent the next several hours distracted, wracked with nerves, arguing with myself about whether or not he would heed my call. Finally, after starting several projects and finishing none of them, I gave up and called Nina.

  “Nina Edwards, how can I help you?”

  “Nina, it’s Rhona. Can you take a coffee break?”

  “God, yes! I’ve been waiting all day for that.”

  “Your day only started an hour ago,” I said, amused.

  “Yes, and it’s been an interminable hour,” she quipped. “All right, I’m in the break room, pouring coffee as we speak. What’s going on?”

  I sighed. “Have you seen the new Matchmakr campaign?”

  “Oh, the one where he’s crying about having loved and lost? Me and the rest of the planet. I’ve never in my life been so inundated by an ad; he must have spent millions on that.”

  “Is it terrible that I’m happy about that?”

  “Oh, God, no. Who wouldn’t be thrilled that Prince Charming was going broke professing his love?”

  “Is he, though? I mean, do you think he loves me, or do you think he’s just upset that he didn’t get what he wanted?” I spun in my chair, chewing my thumbnail. The nerves were going to kill me.

  “I don’t know,” she said slowly. “Has he made any attempt to talk to you directly?”

  I paused for a moment, suddenly second-guessing my decision from months ago. “Well… Yeah, he did. He called and left a message on my machine, and promised that it would be the last one. He said he could explain everything.”

  “Did he?”

  “I…” I swallowed hard, fighting the tears that had sprang into my eyes. “I didn’t give him the chance. I never called him back, I deleted the message, and he kept his promise.”

  “Hm… Then it seems to me that he does love you. Or at least likes and respects you a whole lot, which is one step short of love.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “Well, look at it logically. He obviously wants you back, he’s obviously thinking about you, or he wouldn’t have poured millions of dollars into that heartbroken public confession. But if it was a wholly selfish desire, he wouldn’t have left you alone.”

  “He would have come after me, because he would have idealized me as some kind of prized possession?”

  “Exactly. So you see, the only reasonable conclusion is that he has real feelings for you, and he’s waiting for you to come back to him, if you decide to.”

  “Well… It’s kind of up to him, now,” I admitted.

  “How so?”

  “Nina… If I tell you what I did, do you promise to tell me if I was setting myself up to be disappointed?”

  “Don’t I always?”

  “You do, that’s what I love about you. Okay, so, I called him last night.”

  “You did?! How did he sound? Did he tell you he loved you? Did he ask you to come back?”

  “He didn’t get the chance say anything but his name,” I told her around the nail between my teeth. “I told him that he had one chance to explain everything to me.”

  “Reasonable.”

  “I told him that if he wanted to talk, he could meet me in Reykjavik tonight.”

  “Ah… Less reasonable.”

  “Less reasonable, or completely unreasonable and there’s no way he’ll be able to show up and I’ve totally ruined any chance of us ever making up?”

  “Hm… Not all that. Less reasonable, but not completely unreasonable. After all, he managed to mess this up virtually overnight and it must have cost him way more than a plane ticket.”

  “That was exactly what I thought,” I said with a sigh of relief. “He obviously has the means to make a grand gesture. It’s not completely out of line for me to demand one, is it?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” Nina said slowly. “But honey…”

  “I know, I know. Don’t get my hopes up, right?”

  “I mean, I wouldn’t. It’s a lot to ask of someone, especially without a guarantee of forgiveness. It’s not too much to ask, but it is a lot. He might not be man enough to meet that challenge.”

  “He has to be,” I said fiercely. “Nina, I can’t get him out of my mind. I’ve tried. I’ve flirted with my coworkers and danced my feet bloody. I’ve read shelves full of romances, watched dozens of action movies filled with shirtless heroes, and you know where it’s gotten me?”

  “Dreaming about Blake Lexington?”

  “Exactly. He’s in my blood and I can’t shake him, and if he doesn’t show up tonight, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

  “Not yet, you don’t,” she said reasonably. “When the time comes, you will.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because you always do. You’re stronger, smarter, and luckier than you think you are, Rhona. You always have been. You’re always wracked with indecision going into a situation, but when it’s time to act, you always know exactly what to do.”

  “Like move to a tiny island 4,000 miles away to get away from a city full of heartache?”

  “Like take a fantastic promotion and give the finger to everyone who ever tried to use you in the process,” she rephrased kindly. “One of these days, I swear you’ll see yourself the way I do if I have to gouge my eyes out and stick them in your head.”

  “That sounds messy.”

  “And painful, so don’t let it get that far, okay?”

  “I’ll do my best,” I promised with a smile.

  “Good. Now, what time is it there?”

  “Just about five.”

  “Has he called or texted or anything yet?”

  “No,” I said miserably. “I don’t think he’s coming.”

  “Don’t give up just yet. He might surprise you.”

  “I don’t know how he’s planning on surprising me if he doesn’t have my office address or anything.”

  There was a long pause from Nina’s end, and my heart sank. I was right, I knew it. In order to meet me, he would have to get in touch with me, and since he hadn’t, it was safe to assume that he wasn’t coming.

  “Don’t give up hope,” she said finally. “Why don’t you check the flights, see how many are coming in this evening?”

  “Okay, hold on.” I did as she suggested, and it didn’t help at all. “The last flight landed half an hour ago. The next one is at four in the morning.”

  “That’s still night-ish,” she allowed. “I mean, if he showed up at four in the morning, you’d still see him, wouldn’t you?”

  “I’ll be sleeping,” I told her firmly. “If he didn’t come in on any of the other flights that landed today, then he wasn’t really trying. There can’t be that many people flying from the U.S. to Iceland today. No, Nina, this is it. He has until midnight, then he can turn into a pumpkin for all I care.”

  “That’s the spirit,” she said proudly. “Hey, are you going to be able to fly back for my wedding?”

  “I’ll make time. Have you set a date yet?”

  “Yeah, we’re g
oing ultra-cutesy and getting married on Valentine’s Day.”

  “Good grief,” I laughed.

  “I know, right? I almost decided not to, but then he told me that February 14th is his grandma’s 86th birthday, and he wants to do something special for her because she’s always insisted that she’s going to live long enough to see all of her grandkids married off.”

  “He isn’t the last grandkid, is he?” I asked, suppressing a morbid giggle.

  “No, thank God. He has a cousin a couple years younger who is of the opinion that marriage is an illuminati plot to bleed the poor dry.”

  “He sounds like a barrel of laughs.”

  “Right? If he keeps up that nonsense, Nana’s gonna live forever.”

  We shared an utterly inappropriate laugh, but the moment was soon interrupted by my old boss in the background.

  “Aw, how is Charlie?” I asked, suddenly stricken with a bone-deep homesickness.

  “Grumpy,” she sighed. “Things aren’t running as well around here now that you’re gone. I better go, hon. Love you, and take care of yourself, okay? I worry about you.”

  “I will, and I love you too. Go soothe the raging beast, or whatever.”

  We said our reluctant goodbyes and hung up; her, to go do as much of my job as she could while still rocking her own, and me, to gaze out my window at the dwindling light.

  I would give Blake two more hours, I decided. If he even called me to tell me he was getting on the plane, I would count it.

  But he didn’t, and he didn’t show up at the office either, which would have been fairly easy for him to find. Finally accepting defeat, I was forced to assume that he wasn’t coming.

  It was a cold walk home, but I was in no mood to deal with a taxi; besides, part of me still hoped that he would call or text me. I glanced up at the night sky, hoping for another sign, but either I had misinterpreted the first sign, or the universe had decided to stop communicating with me.

  In the glare of the city lights, all I saw above me was a black as deep as the depression I felt myself sliding into. I took a few detours in the hopes of giving him a little more time; but I knew it was pointless. The last plane had landed hours ago. If he had arrived, he would have told me.