by Ali Parker
“Oh.”
I chomped down on my lip, hating myself for the disappointment in her voice. “Just for a while. We only started things anyway.”
Shut up, shut up, Andrew.
I was saying the wrong things, but I couldn’t help it. Whenever I opened my mouth, something dumb tumbled out.
“Okay,” Lanie said, a new tightness in her voice.
I straightened up in the chair, simultaneously needing the conversation to end right away and wishing it would never have to.
“Good. I think that’s for the best. I’ll talk to you soon?”
“Yeah. Bye.”
“Bye.”
She hung up first, clearly eager to get off the phone.
“Shit,” I spat, putting the phone down on the breakfast table and leaning over my knees.
The creaking of the floorboards made me look up. Raven entered the kitchen, her hair still tousled from sleep. “Who were you talking to?”
“I didn’t realize you were up.”
She ignored me, going straight to the fridge and getting out the orange juice. “Who were you talking to?” she repeated.
“Lanie.”
Christ, even the name was delicious sin now.
There was no reaction on Raven’s face. She heavily set a glass down on the counter so that it made a loud clinking noise and filled it to the brim with juice. Judging by her actions, she was trying to get on my nerves.
“What did she want?”
“Just to talk.”
Raven peered at me over the top of her glass.
“Are you feeling better?”
She blinked fast and set her glass down. Maybe she’d already forgotten she was supposed to be sick. “A little. It must have been those puffed shrimp.”
I smirked. We both know she didn’t eat anything at the event other than cheese and crackers. Everything else was “gross, snobby food.”
“So you know Lanie’s dad?” Raven studied me intently, maybe waiting to see if I’d try to lie.
“Yeah. We’ve been good friends for years.”
“I’ve never met him.”
Because we’re both workaholics who ignore our families until it’s too late, I thought.
“You met him once,” I said instead. “Years ago, when you were little.”
She swirled around what was left of her juice, leaning against the counter and watching me like I was on trial. “Okay,” she finally said.
With that, she put her glass in the sink and walked away.
“Where are you going?” I called after her.
“Bed,” she shouted over her shoulder while crossing the living room. “I still don’t feel good.”
Right.
With Raven back upstairs, I hauled my ass up to get changed for the morning’s laps in the pool. I already knew there would be no falling back to sleep for me. I might as well get shit done.
As I changed into my swimming trunks, the conversation with Lanie ran on repeat in my head. I couldn’t shake her disappointment. Or my own.
The fact that she didn’t want to tell her dad about us meant something, though. And I got it. I did. I wasn’t about to waltz into Bob’s office and fill him in on the sexual escapades I’d been having with his daughter, a woman seventeen years my junior.
It was more than being worried about his reaction, though. I didn’t want to hurt Lanie’s relationship with her dad. She’d done so much when it came to helping out Raven and me. The time had come for me to repay the favor.
No matter what happened next, I couldn’t let the people I cared about burn bridges with each other.
As I dove into the indoor pool, I reminded myself that I’d done the right thing. The cold water rushed along my skin, and I put all my energy into the first breaststroke.
Yes, I’d done the right thing.
But then why did I still feel so shitty?
Chapter 25
Lanie
The tiny gong in the yoga room sounded, signaling the start of the meditation period. Sucking in a long breath, I straightened my back and focused on the sensation of my palms on my knees.
I can do this. I can meditate for five minutes without thinking about Andrew at all. Wait. Damn. I’m thinking about him. Is he disappointed in me? Should I just tell my parents and get it over with?
“Crap,” I whispered.
Hopping up, I snatched up my yoga mat and bag and hurried past everyone else sitting cross-legged, eyes closed, and out of the room. In the bathroom, I ran the water as cold as I could take it and splashed it on my face.
A knock on the door made me turn, face dripping water droplets on my tank top. “Just a second.”
“It’s me,” Erica said through the door. “Are you okay?”
Drying my cheeks with a paper towel, I opened the door. “I’m fine.”
She arched a brow. “You cursed and then ran out during meditation.”
“Meditation is hard.” Taking my bag, which I had since stuffed my mat into, I shouldered past her. She followed me into the street, where the wind cut right through my clothes.
“Wow, it’s cold,” Erica gasped, buttoning up her jacket. I followed suit and zipped up the windbreaker that I should have worn a sweater under.
“Let’s go get a drink.”
I started walking so fast my bag bounced against my hip. Erica had to trot to keep up. “Something is definitely wrong.”
“I’ll tell you once we get to the bar.”
At the corner, though, something in me changed. Once I saw the familiar tapas bar we visited every Sunday evening after yoga, I couldn’t stand the thought of going in there.
“Let’s try somewhere else.”
I could feel my best friend’s gaze drilling into the side of my head. “Okay. Like where?”
“How about there?” I nodded at the sports bar with neon signs that we’d never once patronized.
“Sure. Why not? Maybe we’ll find a new coke hookup.”
I snorted, and Erica smiled. “There’s a little happiness,” she said, pinching my cheek as we walked to the new spot.
Settling into a tiny, worn table near the front window, we looked around the dark bar. The same sports channel played on two different screens, and everyone looked at least twenty years older than Erica and me.
“Let’s have beer,” she announced, taking off her jacket.
“Yes,” I agreed, even though I’d never liked beer. I was a wine drinker—had been since my very first stolen sip of it at my cousin’s wedding twenty years before, but this night was different. I was tired of old Lanie. I didn’t want to be her anymore.
After ordering our drinks, Erica interlaced her fingers on the table and leaned into them. “Let me have it.”
“Andrew is friends with my dad. They have been for years.”
Her eyebrows completely disappeared under her bangs. “Shut the–”
“Yeah. I know.”
“How? Wh-what?” She tried to go on, but only more sputters came out.
“It turns out he was cohosting my dad’s event last night. With my dad.”
Erica burst into laughter that was so loud, everyone else in the bar looked over. “Oh my god, Lanie! This is absolutely golden. So what did your dad say when you told him you and Andrew are seeing each other?”
“He hasn’t found out, and I don’t know if he will.”
“Uh-oh.” Erica frowned. “You’re playing with fire, girl.”
“He’ll freak.”
“Yeah, duh. Oh, peanuts.” She pulled the little dish of nuts closer to her and cracked one open. “What does Andrew want to do about it?”
“He says he doesn’t want to sneak around. He also says that we should take a break while we figure things out.”
Her hands paused mid-crack. “What? I’m sorry.”
I waved my hand. “It’s fine.”
“It’s fucking not,” Erica replied, really getting heated. “You’ve waited a long time to find a good guy, and now this?” She
shook her head. “You know what? Maybe he’s not as good as we thought he was. If he’s going to freak out just because—”
“He is a good guy,” I insisted.
The bartender deposited two frothy pints of pale ale in front of us, and Erica took a careful sip. I stared at mine, suddenly not feeling like drinking. All I wanted was to go home and curl up in bed.
“Why exactly does Andrew want to take a break?”
“Well, I told him that I need to, you know, think all this through. And he said that was a good idea, and we should maybe chill for a week.”
“Oh.” Erica’s posture became straighter. “Well, that’s different.”
“Different from what?”
“If he told you he wants to take a general break, that’s one thing. That means he wants to break up. But if he put a time limit on it and has a reason that makes sense, that’s another.”
I didn’t believe the time frame was as set in stone as Erica thought it was, but I chose to remain quiet and run my finger through the condensation on my pint glass.
“How do you feel about it?” she inquired.
“It feels weird. Andrew’s my dad’s friend, but I really like him. A lot.” I nibbled on my bottom lip. “So much, Erica.”
“Then it’s worth it.”
“But my dad.”
She sighed. “He would get over it eventually.”
“It could destroy his relationship with Andrew.”
“If that’s the case, then it wasn’t that strong in the first place.” Crack went another peanut shell, and she popped the contents into her mouth. “Let’s come back here next weekend.”
I pulled my bag from my phone and checked it, unable to stop myself. No messages. No missed calls. Andrew and I weren’t supposed to be talking, but I couldn’t stop getting my hopes up and thinking he’d throw caution to the wind and get in touch anyway.
“It makes me feel odd,” I said, dropping my voice. “Having sex with my dad’s friend. Wouldn’t that be weird for you?”
“No,” she flatly said. “Say you dated someone your dad had never met, then ended up getting married, and then he and your dad started watching football games or whatever guys do together. That happens all the time. It’s called becoming family. My brother in law Damon, and his wife, Bethany were basically family first. Remember? His father married her mother after everyone was grown and shit.” Crack went another peanut. “Andrew is just a little ahead of the game. Stop making it weird.” She offered a saucy smile.
Her point made sense. I took my first sip of my beer, swishing its sour taste around as I thought some more about things.
“You’re right.” I let out a long sigh. Bethany and Damon’s situation trumped mine any and all days of the week. How they were doing so damn good was beyond me. Maybe they were just meant to be together. “Maybe I’m just traditional.” I shrugged.
Erica forgot the peanuts for a moment so she could rest her arms back on the table and look me in the eye. “You know I’ve always said you’re an old soul.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“It was inevitable that you would end up with an older guy.”
“Yeah, but this older guy in particular?”
“I thought you believed in soul mates.”
“I-I do,” I fumbled.
“Could Andrew be yours?”
That threw me for a loop. Grabbing at the roots of my hair, I groaned in frustration. “I don’t know. It’s too early to tell, I think.”
“Have you ever felt this way about anyone else?” Erica gave me a pointed look. She already knew the answer.
“No,” I grumbled.
“Exactly.” Back to the peanuts, she went. “And you want something long-term. I know you do, even if you sometimes act like you don’t need it.”
“Yeah.”
“You’re still making excuses. Why are you doing this?”
“Because I’m afraid,” I blurted out.
Erica gave me a sympathetic look. “Falling for someone is scary.”
“It’s everything else I’m afraid of. If we tell my parents about us, what’s going to happen? And what about Raven? She’s already pissed at me for not coming clean right away.”
Erica rolled her eyes. “You’re too easy on some of these kids.”
“Raven is fragile.” I whispered the last part, too nervous to admit how much I saw myself in Raven. I couldn’t ruin things between her and Andrew. No matter what, I wouldn’t take away their chances of repairing their relationship.
“You’re taking on too much, Lanie,” Erica sing-sang. “Don’t do this again. It’s good that you’re worried about Raven, but she can’t be your main focus. Don’t pass up a chance to be with a great guy just because he has a daughter.”
I still felt like she was over-simplifying things, but I had become too tired to protest anymore.
“I have to go,” Erica announced, checking the time on her phone. “I have that meeting in the morning.”
“That’s right,” I answered, realizing with a tinge of guilt that we’d spent the whole evening talking about myself. “Good luck with that. I’m sorry I hogged the night.”
“Don’t be sorry for that. Where else am I going to get the juicy, single-life drama from?”I forced a laugh, just for her sake. Throwing some cash down on the table, we passed the guy with a hunchback at the bar and the neon-haired grandma slamming shots and emerged into another beautiful Seattle night.
As I took in the twinkling lights of downtown, a painful ache formed in my heart. What was Andrew doing at that very moment? Was he thinking about me?
Probably not, I decided. He was the one who’d been quick to suggest a real break.
Clamping my jaw shut, I blinked back the tears before they could even threaten to fall.
“Everything will be fine,” Erica said, reading me in only the way she could. With our arms slung over each other’s shoulders, we slowly walked down the sidewalk.
“You know,” she said after a minute, “I think if things are meant to be between you and Andrew, it will work out.”
I studied what bit of her face I could see in the street lighting. “Is that how you feel about Matt? Like it was meant to be?”
Erica looked down at the ground as she walked, a smile twisting the very edge of her lips. “Yeah,” she finally said after a moment. “It is.”
“I think that might be how I feel about Andrew,” I fearfully said. “But I don’t know.”
She squeezed my shoulder. “Life has a way of kind of figuring itself out. Sometimes it takes a shit-ton of time, but it happens sooner or later.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, feeling deep down that she was right.
At the block where we’d parked our cars on the street, we parted. “Don’t sweat it!” Erica called as she climbed into her car. “Remember, things will work out!”
I gave her a wave and dropped into my own vehicle. This time, I didn’t bother taking out my phone.
Chapter 26
Andrew
Three days and twelve hours. That’s how long it had been since I’d last heard Lanie’s voice.
But who was counting?
Shutting down the computer in my downtown office, I groaned and leaned back in my chair. It had been days since I last stayed so long at work, but I hadn’t been able to stomach the prospect of going home to an empty house. Being eight o’clock, Karen would have left for the day. Raven was having some big dinner with the rest of the German club, something I had insisted she go to. Just her joining the club had been a big deal.
So, left all alone, I’d opted to stay at the office.
But now everyone else was gone, and I had run out of things to do.
Shrugging into my coat, I picked up my briefcase, snatched up my keys, and left the quiet room. The main area of the floor was equally as silent, everyone else long gone.
As I rounded the corner, Jacob, a young intern, jumped and dropped the papers he held.
“What are you still doing he
re?” I asked.
“Um, just, I was just leaving, Mr. Marx,” he pathetically gasped.
Realizing I’d barked at him, I shook my head and sighed. “Let me help you with those.”
As I bent down to help him collect the papers, he watched me with wary eyes.
“I’m not going to bite,” I told him, handing the last paper over.
He gave me a weak smile, not convinced.
“Here.” I hit the button to call for the elevator. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
Jacob’s eyes went wide at the cuss word, but he said nothing. We shuffled into the elevator, standing at opposite ends and waiting for the ride to be over.
“Do you hate me?” I asked.
Again, Jacob’s eyes became perfectly circular. He reminded me of a scared bunny rabbit, always looking for the next bush to dart under. “N-no, Mr. Marx.”
“But you think I’m mean. Is that it?”
I’d heard the whispers, seen the way everyone quieted down when I came into the room. For years, I’d thought it meant I had the upper hand.
Until Lanie came into my life. With her around, my attitude had changed. I’d become more laid back, nicer to everyone at work. In return, productivity had grown. My employees laughed and smiled more. I’d realized that being a hardass all the time didn’t equate to getting things done.
This week had been different. Not talking to Lanie, it felt like bugs crawled under my skin all day long. I’d been more irritable, quicker to yell at people. I knew it.
I wished there was something to be done about it, but at that point, I felt so fucked up, I didn’t know where to begin.
“Have a good night.” I smiled at Jacob as the elevator doors opened. “See you tomorrow.”
He nodded, still looking spooked, and scurried out of the elevator. I gave him some space as he crossed the lobby, waving goodbye to the night guard, and walking to my car.
I needed a drink. Real bad.
The country club was aglow with lights, sparkling white strands of them dripping from the bushes and the eves. Handing my keys to the valet, I inspected the scene with a smirk. They weren’t quite holiday decorations, but they were close. Thanksgiving was on its way, and the second that ended, everything red and green would be up, the giant tree the club put up every year on full display.
