by Jill Winters
Finally she flung the door open and glared at him.
"Hi," he said, beaming and apparently oblivious. He was holding a bouquet of daffodils, smiling at her like he was crazy about her. "Oh, I forgot you wear glasses. Damn, you look cute."
As he leaned down to kiss her she couldn't help wondering: Was he insane?
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she barked, jerking her head out of kissing range.
He looked genuinely confused, and straightened slowly. "Wha—what do you mean?"
Reese's mouth dropped open. She held her hands out and started looking around to an imaginary audience—as if to say, Is it just me, or is this guy a complete asshole?
"I don't get this," he said. "Did... what, you changed your mind about us?"
She scrunched her face at him as if he had several heads and said, "Did I change my mind? You were supposed to come for me! After everything was settled—remember?"
"I know; that's what I'm doing here!" he said, handing off the flowers to her, even though she didn't want them.
She snatched them angrily and said, "It's been four days! You were supposed to end things with Veronica and call me the next day!"
He looked surprised... then understanding... then contrite. Reese looked as though she were about to strangle him. "Ah, hell," he said, "Reese, can I please come in? We need to get something straight."
For a couple of seconds she contemplated slamming the door, but ultimately she decided against it.
Really, why bother? It wouldn't make her feel any better at this point. "Whatever," she grumbled. "Like it makes a difference now."
She spun around to give him her back, and he followed her into the apartment. Carelessly she tossed his flowers onto the kitchen table. When she finally turned to face him, he held up his hands in a Now, just listen gesture of entreaty. She went along with it only because she'd temporarily run out of scathing things to say.
"Reese, I'm sorry, but I thought we agreed that we couldn't see each other until everything was settled. I thought that was how you wanted it."
"I did. What's your point?"
"Well, nothing was settled until today," he said apologetically. "Reese, I'm so sorry—I had no idea you thought that I was blowing this off. I wasn't, believe me. I mean, if I'd known you thought that... I thought you didn't want me to get in touch, until, you know—"
"Yeah, yeah, I get it, all right?" she said impatiently, crossing her arms over her chest. "So what's the status now? Let me guess, you couldn't bear to tell her? What, did she threaten to jump off the Brooklyn Bridge? What? C'mon, let's hear it."
He tilted his head, and with a trace of wryness said, "You done?"
She just sulked.
He came closer. "No to all of the above. I had coffee with Veronica today and told her I was done with all of it—that our relationship had died two years ago—hell, probably a lot longer than that—and that I wasn't in love with her anymore. I told her I haven't been in love with her for a long time."
Reese swallowed and avoided his eyes.
"Wait. The reason I didn't do it before today was because she was away on a class trip to San Francisco since Monday morning. I had no way to do it before today." He gently tilted her chin so their gazes met. "Reese, I swear, I just assumed you didn't want to hear from me till it was done. I'm really sorry if you were... worried, or—"
"I wasn't worried," she lied. "I just figured you changed your mind about us."
"No," he said. "No way. I'm sorry; I just didn't think there was any doubt at this point." His voice dropped a little. "I want to be with you," he said.
"Well, I want to be with you, too—jeez." Then her face broke into a self-deprecating smile, and Brian smiled back. He pulled her into his arms, and as she hugged him, he picked her up. "Oh, not the picking-me-up thing," she said, giggling. "You're gonna slip a disk!"
"Psfft."
She smiled into his shoulder, and he set her back onto the floor. Leaning down to kiss the curve of her neck, he murmured, "Now are you gonna put those in water, or should I just toss them in the trash?"
"Oh, yeah!" she said, darting to the kitchen table and picking up the bouquet. She filled a vase with water and said over her shoulder, "So, was it difficult with Veronica? You know, having the talk?"
"Nah," he said. "I told her about you, and she told me to drop dead. After that, conversation seemed silly."
Reese twisted her lips into a smirk. "Really."
"Really. Well, she did lay into me a little about all my flaws," he replied absently, and shrugged off his jacket and tie.
"What flaws?" Reese said, defensive on his behalf.
He shrugged. "I don't know; I wasn't really listening. Anyway, she said it was for the best anyway, because she met a male ballerina on her trip and they had more in common."
Reese set the flowers down in the center of the table, and like Brian's presence, they brightened up the room. Walking toward him, she said, "Um, I don't think they're called that."
"What?"
"Male ballerinas," she said, smiling.
He chuckled. "Well, whatever." Then he surveyed the apartment. Papers were strewn everywhere, and tons of things were tossed and catapulted out of their proper place. "Uh, unique decor," he said, nodding slowly.
"Oh..." She bit her lower lip and said, "I'd been cleaning."
"Interesting results," he said, sounding slightly worried.
Reese slid her arms around his waist. "Ally's gonna kill me when she finds out."
"What? About us?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"You don't know Ally. She won't believe I kept this from her, and I can hardly tell her it's because of her big—albeit, well-meaning—mouth."
Brian smiled. "Speaking of telling people things, I think it's about time we told your mother about your writing career."
"Please, what 'career'—We?"
"Yeah, well, you can tell her, and then I'll be there to go on and on about how good you are." Reese smirked, and he insisted, "You are—you had me totally hooked."
"So I guess you're my biggest fan then."
"Always," he said, grinning, but there was a thickness to his voice that made her believe him. She even pushed away the cynical voice deep inside her saying, That remains to be seen, and just let herself feel happy.
"Come on, just tell me," Brian said. "Do Trent and Monique get together at the end, or what?"
She laughed. "I can't tell you," she said. "I don't know yet." That last part was a lie.
"Fine, well, I at least want to read what you've added so far," he said, and made a "gimme" gesture with both hands. "Get the laptop. Please."
She smiled—a big, open, airy smile—she could feel it on her face, welcoming him, inviting him in—into her world, into her—and said, "Actually, you're in luck." She went into her bedroom and over to her bookbag.
He followed, and she pulled out a stack of a hundred pages. "I printed this at the computer lab earlier," she said, handing it to him.
Loosening his tie, he took the pages, plopped down on her bed, and immediately began reading. "Do you want something to drink?" she asked.
"Okay, thanks," he said. "Whatever's fine."
As she turned, she felt his hand touch her arm, and he said, "Hey." Suddenly his arms snaked around her waist, and he was hugging her again.
Sighing, she tilted her head to kiss him. When she pulled back, they exchanged a long moment that meant so much, and Reese pressed her forehead against his shoulder, thinking that whoever had said New York was the loneliest city in the world may not have been looking hard enough.
She whispered against Brian's collar, "This is the beginning, isn't it?"
Brian tightened his arms around her, and buried his face in her hair. "Yeah," he said huskily. "It's the beginning... so how come I already feel far gone?"
A voice deep inside her answered, Because we're falling in love.
And this time, she paid attention.
&n
bsp; Epilogue
One year later
"Brock, phone call!" Tina announced, bringing Reese the receiver and slapping her on the back with camaraderie, but nearly knocking the wind out of her. Reese forced a smile to cover the pain, and took the phone.
"Hello?"
"Sweetheart? It's Mom."
"Oh, hi. Is everything okay?" Reese asked, surprised her mother was calling her at work, but not too worried about getting in trouble for a personal call. The cafe, like the rest of the store, was pretty dead because it was six-thirty on a Friday evening. In fact, soon Brian would be picking her up to take her to dinner at their favorite restaurant downtown. Anyway, Darcy had left early to go to a concert, and ever since Reese had been transferred to permanent cafe duty, and Amy had taken her place as a bookseller, the boss lady didn't dog her heels nearly as much. Too bad for Amy, but Reese wasn't about to complain.
"Oh, everything's fine!" Joanna enthused. "Actually, I have some wonderful news for you—oh, I just can't believe it!"
"What?" Reese asked, feeling her heart skip, though she had no clue what the news could be. "What is it?"
"Oh, God, Angela and I tried to call you before but the store line's been busy forever, and your cell phone's off," she said rapidly, not taking a breath, "This is just so wonderful—I'm just so proud of you, sweetheart!"
"So am I!" she heard Angela call from the background.
"Mom, slow down. Just tell me what it is."
"Okay, well, Angela and I were here baking pain aux noir when we got the call. Of course, Angela's been eating most of the walnuts—"
"I have cravings," Angela called, half giggling. "I can't help it!"
"All right, honey, I know, I know."
"What is it?" Reese said, getting impatient.
"Sorry, sweetheart. Anyway, the senior editor of Peridot Press called, and she said she loved your manuscript!"
"What!" she screamed, and Tina whipped around to see what all the commotion was.
"She wants you to call her!" Joanna cheered.
"Omigod, I don't believe it!"
"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so proud of you," Joanna said. Angela yelled, "Me, too, me, too!" They talked and celebrated for a few more minutes before Reese said, "Okay, I gotta go, 'cause I'm at work; but I'll call you when I get out."
"All right, bye, honey! We're so proud of you."
After she hung up with her mom, Reese did a little victory dance in place. And here she'd just started her dissertation a couple of months ago. Life is so ironic it really should be predictable. But she'd figure everything out later.
Right now, all she could think about was telling Brian. He was the first person to read her story. He'd proofread it, fact-checked it, and she knew he'd be so proud of her.
Looking up at the clock, she was definitely too excited to finish wiping down the milk steamer. Where was he? This was too good to be true.... God, where was that man?
Tina asked her what was going on, and after Reese told her, Tina slapped her on the back much too hard, and asked if there was any sex in the book, because Freddy might be able to use a few pointers. Reese assured her that there was a little sex, and left out the part about Brian needing no pointers as far as she was concerned. Actually, the best thing about sleeping with Brian was the way he always cuddled next to her afterward, and kissed her shoulder right before they went to sleep. Brian, Brian... she needed him now. She couldn't wait—
Then she saw him coming. Her heart pounded in her ears; her palms began to sweat. She felt a zing of exhilaration and a nervousness that didn't make much sense, but was one of the most exciting feelings she'd ever had, and just as he got to the steps of the cafe, she knew she couldn't wait for him to come to her.
Running across the shiny wood floor, she heard the frantic clicking of her heels and felt the familiar warmth and strength of his body as she flung her arms around him.
"Hey," he said, laughing. "Glad to see me?"
"Oh, Brian, you'll never believe it!" she yelped, gripping him tightly.
"What?" he asked, hugging her back, while he set her feet on the ground. "Hon, what is it?" he said as she pulled him over to an empty table.
They'd barely sat down when she blurted the news. Instantly his face broke into a warm, open smile that she knew intimately and loved to pieces. "Oh, my God!" he shouted, "That's incredible!" He pulled her up out of her seat and hugged her enough to drag her one or two inches off the ground. "Jesus, I'm so proud of you," he said.
Suddenly Tina approached them, saying, "Here's a little something special...."
Reese and Brian pulled apart as Tina carried two small mugs of espresso on little saucers. Instantly, alarm crossed Brian's face, and he started shaking his head.
"Come on, sit down, you two; have a drink before you head out," Tina said, her voice taking on a strange quality.
Reese slumped back into her seat. "What's this?" she asked, confused, since they hadn't ordered anything.
"Ah, no," Brian hedged.
"Come on, just a couple cups of espresso before you hit the road," Tina explained, a little too matter-of-factly. "Drink up!"
"No, no," Brian said quickly. "That's all right; we should probably just get go—"
"Hey, what's this?" Reese saw a little shiny gold thing glimmer next to her cup. She picked it up, and almost fainted. It was a ring! And not just a ring... a gold ring with a sparkling diamond in the center. Her jaw dropped so hard it almost creaked; Brian was shaking his head in his hand. "Brian?"
"Reese, I—Oh, hell, this is your moment. I planned this before I knew—"
"Okay, smile!"
She looked over to see Ally hovering over the railing that separated the bookstore and the cafe, holding up her disposable camera. Ben was standing next to her, looking guiltily uninvolved. "Wha—what are you doing here?" Reese asked, now more confused than ever.
"That's not a smile—come on, you two; get closer together," Ally ordered, motioning with one of her ring-clad hands. Reese looked to Brian again; he was looking back intently, knowingly, and maybe a little plaintively.
Then he said, "Reese, I wanted to propose to you tonight. I set the ring thing up with Tina... but now I feel like I'm totally overshadowing your big news...."
"You mean... you were gonna propose to me here?" she asked, overtaken by the sweetness. "In the cafe?"
"Well, it's where it all began. Sort of," he said.
"So... now you're not gonna propose to me anymore?" she asked, feeling a trace of a smile on her face, and some warm wetness pooling in her lower lids.
Soon it blurred her vision, and Brian's face was a little glossed over when he said, "Oh, God, of course I am." Taking her hand in his, he said, "Reese, I love you so much, and I want to marry you." He paused. "Will you marry me?"
"Yes. I will," she whispered, and bounced off her chair to fall into his arms, as Ally's camera clicked like crazy, and flashes went off like strobe lights.
Reese and Brian's mouths met in a soft, tender kiss. He murmured, "I told Ben about the proposal... I guess Ally must've gotten it out of him."
Reese laughed. "Hmm, I'm shocked." Then she leaned in to whisper in his ear, "Of course I'll marry you. I love you so much, I want to be with you always."
Pulling back, he looked deeply into her eyes. "I'm so proud of you about the book, I—"
"I couldn't have done it without you," she said, kissing his cheek, loving the roughened hint of his shave, and the clean smell of his skin.
"Yes, you could have," he said, "but I'm glad you didn't."
Tears touched the corners of her eyes as Brian's proposal echoed through her mind and wrapped around her heart.
Brian tightened his embrace, and smiled into her eyes.
Meanwhile, Ben was trying to steer his wife away to give Reese and Brian some privacy, but Ally was determined to take pictures first. "Wait," she protested, "I need to get a 'tears of joy' shot first C'mon, Reese, work it for the camera." She clicked like crazy, while Ben put hi
s head in his hands.
A tear slid from Reese's eye, and Brian swept it away with his thumb before she even realized it was there.
Reese supposed everything else hadn't really sunk in yet, because it was this that made her smile. All of this that made it hard to breathe. For a moment the cafe seemed to spin around, chaotic but wonderful because it made such perfect sense, and she laughed to herself.
Sometimes the little things just filled her up.
The End
Excerpt from
Lime Ricky
by
Jill Winters
Chapter 1
Gretchen woke up to her apartment on fire. It was strange the way you could fly out of bed—burst up from a cocoon of comforters, your head still heavy with sleep but your body jolted awake and thrumming with fear. How, in the murky depths of your mind, you could believe you were still dreaming, even as pure instinct sent you racing out of your room and into the acrid stench of burning plastic.
Gretchen slapped hard on the wall switch and flooded the hall with light.
"Oh God!" she yelped as panic seized her chest. Billows of smoke slid between the cracks of Dana's door, then expanded, puffing up into listless clouds that evaporated into the ceiling. God, is she okay, please, please let her be okay! With her heart slamming against her ribs, she bolted across the hall to her cousin's bedroom.
Grasping at her neck, Gretchen felt herself choke—on smoke or on fear—as she flung the door open. A bright orange glow in the corner by the window illuminated the rest of the room. A thick fog of smoke was rushing toward her, gray and smothering, and through it she saw Dana's bed, still made. The mustard-colored quilt was pulled tightly across it; the spiral, satiny pillow rested at the head of the bed like a plump golden rod.
Gretchen's eyes stung. The smoke burned into them, made them water like diluted acid and clogged her throat like a rough piece of bark. She struggled to cough—to breathe—as she blinked away tears.
Then, like an electric shock, a bolt of relief struck her chest; Dana was out tonight. She'd said something earlier about crashing at her friend's place so she could make an early audition the next morning. Thank you, God, Gretchen thought frantically, exhaling a shaky sigh. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
