I nodded, touched. "Thanks. It is a bit shocking getting called all those things, but I'll survive."
"I'm glad," he said, his eyes holding mine. "I'm very glad."
My heart and breathing began speeding up as the intensity between us grew. Amazing how a single look from him did more to me than Alex ever had.
Loren folded his hand over mine, covering the phone. "Want me to delete that so you don't have to see it again?"
The heat of his hand spread up my arm and through my body, flooding me with sweet warmth, and I pretended to take a second to think because I didn't want him to let me go. When I'd stretched the pause as long as I reasonably could, I said, "If you don't mind, yes. Please."
He kept his grip on my hand for another moment then took the phone and erased the message. When he'd finished, he held the phone in his hand as if weighing it, then set it down on my desk and said, "We have five days worth of work to finish by tomorrow night. I guess we'd better get to it."
I wished he'd put the phone back in my hand again, but I understood.
Chapter Thirty-Five
When David cut off the orchestra's final chord, the audience burst into applause and cheers and I grabbed George in a hug.
"Great job," he said into my ear.
Exhaustion swept me, the hours I'd put into 'hell week' rehearsals plus the tons of work I'd done with Loren and all my struggles with Alex hitting me at once, and I had to blink back tears before I could say, "Same to you."
Same to all of us, every last one. Though we'd been forced to take the show apart and reassemble it by that awful cold, in the end the performance was so much better for it. Our rendition played on all our strengths and skimmed over our weak spots so it fit our group perfectly. It was nothing like the original, and nothing like any other group had done before, and the audience had loved it and we had all loved it too.
David and his wife had organized a party back at our rehearsal space to celebrate opening night, and from the crowd that filled the room half an hour later it seemed like nearly everyone who'd attended the show had come over.
Alex had insisted on coming to both the show and the party. I'd been nervous, since Loren was coming with Dana and Jay and I didn't particularly want them to meet, but despite myself I'd been touched that Alex wanted to be there. He was surprisingly complimentary about the show and my performance in it, but seemed taken aback when George came over to us with a plush monkey prop wrapped around his neck.
"Alex, this is my clarinet buddy George. George, this is my... boyfriend, Alex."
I hoped the hesitation hadn't been too obvious. I hadn't meant to hesitate at all, of course, but this was the first time I'd called Alex my boyfriend since we'd gotten back together and I hadn't been able to say it without a little flinch.
George clearly remembered Alex's name from when I'd told him about the breakup, because he shot me a quick look before offering his monkey's hand to Alex. "Nice to meet you."
Alex shook the monkey's hand gingerly. "You too."
George elbowed me. "So, you survived hell week, eh?"
I elbowed him back. "Barely. So many hours here! And I had to cancel my craft groups and my bellydance class." I'd been surprisingly bothered by that. Before Alex left me, I'd been home every night and had never felt a lack, but now even the temporary loss of my new activities felt strange and uncomfortable.
"That bellydance sequence came out great." He turned to Alex. "She helped choreograph that, you know. The one with the snake?"
"I remember it."
George raised his eyebrows at the abrupt response, and Alex added, "It was neat, Andrea," in a tone that suggested the opposite.
I felt my cheeks grow warm but tried not to react. I knew Alex didn't approve of my dancing but did he have to be so blunt about it? I'd told him repeatedly I had no plans to dance in public, which I didn't since I truly didn't have any interest in performing, so why couldn't dancing just be something fun I did? Why did he have to take it as a personal affront?
"Well. Moving on. Where's your friend Wendy?" George scanned the room. "She did a great job with that scenery that was trying to fall on us in the second act and I want to thank her."
Wendy and I weren't friends any more, not really, but I couldn't tell George that. I scanned the room for her, and my heart fluttered when I saw who she was with. A man and woman I didn't know, Dana and Jay...
And Loren.
He looked away from Wendy and our eyes met. The corner of his mouth pulled up into an adorable smile, and I realized he smiled like that now every time he saw me. We were doing our best to behave; we'd hugged after finally finishing the big project, too excited not to, then again the next day in Dana's office when she informed us the bosses were thrilled with our work, but since then we hadn't touched each other. Even so, seeing him made me happy. It hurt, but it made me happy.
I returned his smile, and he raised his beer bottle to me like a toast and mouthed, "Congrats". I mouthed back, "Thank you," then jumped when George said, "Oh, there she is. And with two cute guys. Excuse me, I have new friends to meet."
He turned to face me, putting his back to Alex, and gave me the frowning of a lifetime. In case I hadn't understood, he also jerked his eyes in Alex's direction then rolled them.
"Of course you're excused," I said pointedly. "Off you go then."
"Thank you, your highness," he said with a theatrical bow, and left.
"Does he always wear that monkey?"
I turned to Alex. "No, sometimes he wears a polar bear."
Alex blinked, and I rolled my eyes at him then felt uncomfortably aware that I'd repeated George's gesture. "Of course not. It's from the show."
"I just wondered. He seems like the type."
Was that a homophobic comment? He'd never seemed that way before, but now I wondered. I didn't have time to do anything about it, though, because Wendy, amazingly, was approaching me. To be more accurate, she was following the man and woman toward me, an awkward smile on her face.
"Alex," the man boomed, holding out a big manicured hand. "Nice to see you again. Not quite the same circumstances though, eh?"
Confusion flickered through me, then I understood. Wendy had taken her boyfriend to have dinner with her sister and brother-in-law, and they wanted to talk to the boyfriend again despite how much it was clearly bothering Wendy.
"Um, I guess not," Alex said, shaking the offered hand. "How are you, Henry? And you, Lee-Anne?"
Lee-Anne, a paler and less vibrantly dressed version of Wendy, gave him a shy smile but didn't speak, and Henry said, "Oh, I'm perfect as always," with a laugh that said he assumed everyone agreed with him. "And this must be the one you left our Wendy for."
"Geez, Henry."
He didn't even blink at Wendy's admonishment. "What's your name, blondie?"
Blondie? "I'm Andrea."
He didn't offer his hand to me and I was glad. I didn't want to get slime on my fingers.
"Wendy here," he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at her, "thought it'd be uncomfortable for us all to talk. But she's being stupid. Of course it's not. We're adults, right?"
Alex shot me a look. "Right."
I steamed but sipped my wine to keep myself quiet. I had asked him to avoid talking to Wendy tonight and he'd insisted it wouldn't matter since she'd be over him by now. I wasn't at all sure she was, and even if she was I didn't want to rub her nose in it.
Alex and Henry were too much alike for my comfort.
Henry said, "Alex, man to man, wasn't that show the gayest thing you've ever seen?"
Alex's eyes darted toward George, who was now rubbing his monkey prop on Loren's arm and making it lick him while Loren and my coworkers roared with laughter, but he just said, "Not a fan of musical theater, I guess?"
Henry leaned in and began whispering to Alex so I couldn't hear his response. Good thing: even just that one sentence equating 'gay' with 'bad' had infuriated me, not to mention Alex's response and the way he'd look
ed to George as an example of supreme and apparently unpleasant gayness.
Repulsed by both men, and wondering if I'd been dating a homophobe for fourteen years, I turned my attention to the women. Lee-Anne stood watching her husband with a completely blank expression, and a shiver rippled through me at how withdrawn she seemed. Years of Henry would do that, though, I supposed.
Would years of Alex? More years? Had they already done it? I hadn't told him off for his crack about George and the monkey, after all, and I'd let his silent and Henry's all-too-vocal gay slurs stand without comment.
I looked away from Lee-Anne, not wanting to think about it any more, and gave Wendy a tentative smile. "How are you?"
She smiled back with about the same level of confidence. "Good. You?"
I nodded, then said, "You did a great job tonight."
She blushed. "You too. And I like your boots."
I'd had to wear all black to make sure I wasn't too visible to the audience from the orchestra pit, and I'd picked up the new boots that week since my old black leather ones were in rough shape. "Thanks. They're cute but they pinch a little."
"Yeah. Boots'll do that."
"Yeah."
We stood looking at each other for a moment, then both blurted, "Do you want--" at once.
We laughed, and I said, "You first."
"Do you want to have coffee with me Monday morning?"
I smiled, then stepped forward and hugged her. "Yes, please. I was going to suggest lunch but coffee's perfect. Then maybe lunch."
"Sounds great." She squeezed me tight and whispered, "I've really missed you. I think we can be friends again."
"Me too. To both parts."
We released each other, and I felt someone watching me and looked over to see Loren, his eyes warm. I smiled, and he flashed me a thumbs-up sign then went back to his laughing attempts to untangle himself from George's monkey.
Wendy and I were recovering our friendship even though Alex was still in my life. Loren and I had never lost ours, but would being friends with him ever be enough?
*****
The party went on until about one in the morning, at which point David said, "Everyone involved in the show, get out of here and go get some sleep. We've got four more performances and you need your energy."
We groaned, but obediently began to leave. I was afraid, as we were packed in together to get through the door, that Loren and Alex and I would find ourselves in too close contact, but when I saw Jay and Dana outside Loren wasn't with them. Maybe he'd left early because of Martin.
David, thinking ahead as always, had ordered a bunch of taxis to take people home, and Alex and I stood with my work friends and waited for our turn to climb into one since neither of us had wanted to be the designated driver that night.
Jay gave me congratulations and a good-natured hug, and so did Dana, then we chatted about the show and work until we reached the front of the taxi line. Alex tried to let my colleagues go first, but Jay said, "We're still waiting on Loren. He forgot his jacket inside. You two go ahead."
I felt myself stiffen though I tried not to react, and Alex straightened his shoulders and said, "Oh, is he here? I've heard a lot about him."
Jay smiled easily at him. "Of course you have. She works with him every day, how could you not?"
Alex relaxed, obviously glad that Jay didn't seem to be hiding anything about my relationship with Loren, and turned toward the taxi, fortunately missing the wink Jay shot me. I knew, from the wink and from Dana's sympathetic eyes when I glanced at her, that Loren and I were a poorly kept secret in the office.
At least we were still a secret from Alex. Not that there was anything going on any more.
I gave Jay and Dana quick hugs and followed Alex down the walkway toward the taxi. He looked back over his shoulder at me, then past me and froze. "That him?"
I turned around. Loren stood with the others now, watching us go. Our eyes met and I remembered the last time I'd walked toward a taxi, how I'd turned back and flung myself into his waiting arms. "Yeah, that's him," I said, still looking at Loren. That's him, all right.
"Well, quit staring at him and get in the car."
I jerked my eyes away from Loren and climbed into the taxi. My eyes met the driver's in the rear-view mirror and he said, "Hey again. Bringing your boyfriend this time?"
Oh, no.
He glanced at Alex, who'd climbed in after me, then out the window at Loren. "Oh. Um. Never mind, I think I've confused you with someone else."
Nice try, buddy. Not good enough, but nice try.
Alex didn't say a word the whole way home. He didn't speak once we were inside either, just sat slumped on the couch ignoring Harrison's attempts to make him pet him. I didn't want to ask what was wrong, because I knew, but eventually Alex couldn't keep quiet any more. "Why'd that guy think that idiot was your boyfriend?"
I so nearly said, "He's not an idiot," but just managed not to. Defending Loren wouldn't help. I managed not to give into my second impulse, to lie and say I had no idea what he was talking about, too. I did know, and I didn't feel like mincing around. "That taxi driver brought me home from Loren's that night we had to work late. I guess he figured I was leaving my boyfriend's house."
"And why would he think that? Big make-out session on the front steps before you left?"
Loren and I had so wanted that session, and we'd restrained ourselves. I would not be criticized for cheating I didn't do by someone who did do it. "You'd have to ask him. Loren did walk me outside and wait until I was in the taxi, like a gentleman, but there was no making out."
"I don't want you working with him any more."
I sat on the corner of the couch, as far from him as I could get. "That's not going to happen."
"You've finished that big project, so just change jobs."
I dropped my face into my hands. "Haven't we done this already? I am not doing that."
"Because you want to be with him."
"Because I happen to like and be good at my job!"
"If you care about me, you'll quit."
I raised my head and stared at him. His cheeks reddened but he didn't back down. In fact, he pushed harder. "If you don't leave that job, I'll know you don't really want to be with me."
My mouth moved but I couldn't find anything to say. Eventually, I said exactly what was rushing through my mind. "If you won't trust me, I don't want to be with you."
"Can I trust you?"
I gave a grim laugh. "That's rich, coming from you."
"I said I was sorry. You never did."
His oh-so-rational tone and his words infuriated me. "For what? Liking a coworker when I was single? I don't think I've got anything to apologize for."
My anger infected him and his voice rose as he said, "You won't quit now even though you know I hate it. That's something."
"Let's get this straight, okay? I'm not quitting that job for you. You can take that any way you want, but I'm taking it like this: it's mine and I like it and I want to be there. Loren has nothing to do with it."
"Then what did that taxi driver see that made him--"
I threw up my hands. "That's it. I'm tired and I'm not putting up with this crap any more. I did nothing wrong. I'm going to bed. You will sleep out here."
I grabbed Harrison and went into the bedroom before Alex could answer, locking the door behind me. Even with my exhaustion and Harrison's comforting purr and then his snore, though, I couldn't sleep.
For all his hypocritical annoyingness, Alex had a point. Though we weren't acting on it, Loren and I had a connection that went deeper than friends and coworkers.
Did Alex and I still have that connection?
Did I even want us to have it?
Chapter Thirty-Six
Alex and I didn't acknowledge our fight the next morning; we just had breakfast together while watching a movie and slid right back into our routine. Since I spent most of my time at the four musical theater performances that weekend we didn't r
eally have much opportunity to talk. Not much opportunity and even less inclination, since the few times we did speak we immediately found ourselves bickering about my job or Harrison's fur on the floor or something even more stupid. Even if I'd had time for a deep discussion with him, I wouldn't have wanted one.
I hated the whole thing, and hated how my stomach's knots seemed tied tighter than ever, but I couldn't see a way out. And I hated that too.
My mood brightened on Monday, though, thanks to Wendy. She and I went for that coffee, and after a brief awkwardness slid right back into being friends, although neither of us mentioned Alex. That same day, we worked through lunch so we could leave the office early and go shopping before my knit and crochet night. We became even more relaxed with each other as we cruised the mall, laughing and joking and sighing together over amazing things we couldn't afford. Gorgeous earrings for her at a great price turned up at the first store we tried, but we weren't able to find anything for me until the last store.
When we'd passed that store on the way in, a brown skirt in the window caught my eye because it was so much like the dress I saw on my first post-Alex shopping trip, the one I convinced myself wasn't right for me because it was brown. I didn't think this one was right either, since I was loving my new brighter wardrobe, so I didn't tell Wendy I wanted to try it on, but as we browsed the rest of the stores I kept thinking about the skirt and its matching top, and I couldn't get them out of my head. Them, and the dress that had been so pretty.
We went into the store at last but I still hesitated. I was supposed to be brightening up my life, not adding more neutral brown. Wendy went straight for the jewelry display, naturally, and I loitered around the rack of skirts trying to decide what to do. I didn't want to add anything boring to my life. I needed color.
But I couldn't stop looking at the skirt. It just seemed so perfect to me. Soft and flowing, with velvet and sheer fabric alternating, it looked like it would feel amazing against my legs.
I stood indecisively in front of the skirts for another moment then reached out and grabbed my size. I had to see myself in it. I didn't want to regret not trying it like I did with the dress.
Toronto Collection Volume 1 (Toronto Series #1-5) Page 120
