He looked amused at her reference to their past intimacy. She had fastidiously avoided any specific mention of their romance, not just in front of others, but even when they chanced to be alone. Now this.
His mouth curled up and he stepped toward her shaking his head. “It’s okay. Sooner or later one of us had to mention it. Maybe its time we talked about it, got it out in the open.”
Her stomach twisted as he stepped closer, panic rising. She rubbed her arms, feeling even more heat flood through her. “I was really hoping we wouldn’t, actually,” she tried, unsuccessfully, to smile, and her eyes danced across his gleaming shoulders.
“Well, why not?” he asked, suddenly serious. “I’ve been following your lead, but I really don’t understand why we’re playing games. Who are we fooling, anyway?”
“I would rather pretend it never happened, actually,” she said, aware that her breathing and her heart-rate were escalating. She looked back and forth at the floor, avoiding his eyes, wishing she could be anywhere but here, having this conversation with Simon. They stood where they were, facing each other in the squash court, a few feet apart.
“Don’t say that. Those are some of my fondest memories,” he laughed, trying to lighten the mood. His eyes shone as he spoke, and his eyes dropped to her mouth, lower, and up again to meet her eyes.
“Ooh. You can’t be serious,” she hissed. How could he…What did he think…?
“I certainly am. I mean, really. I thought you enjoyed our time together too. Maybe I was wrong.”
“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.” Her face tingled with heat, and she rubbed her brow with her hand, head down, still clutching her squash racquet with white knuckles.
He strode toward her and stopped, a foot away, gently placing his fingertips on her bare shoulder, warm and slick with perspiration. She flinched and stiffened at the jolt of electricity that made her skin tingle. “Hey. You’re really having a hard time with this, aren’t you?” He lifted her chin with one finger and tried to meet her eyes, but she kept them averted, trying to hide the tears that welled and burned.
She turned her head to the side, rubbing at her chin where he’d touched her.
He suddenly dipped his head and kissed her tense lips, quickly and firmly, sending a shock of heat through her, confusing her further. He pressed his mouth harder onto hers with a small moan.
Stop! No! She pushed away, sucked in her breath and stood immobilized, staring at him as though she’d seen a ghost, her heart thrumming. Did I do this? Did I encourage him? She checked herself. She’d learned not to blame herself for everything that went wrong in her life. But she couldn’t very well pretend any longer that this chemistry between them wasn’t real, or that he wasn’t interested in her.
He backed away with a wan smile, his eyes searching hers. “Let’s go to the cafeteria and sit down. It would be good to talk a bit,” he suggested. “I think we’re done with squash for today.”
She nodded stiffly, avoiding eye contact, and they gathered their things and left the court. Numbly, she followed him to a small cafe to one side of the reception desk, and they sat at a table near the window overlooking the street.
The sky was clear intense blue and vivid, and a brisk wind jostled and shivered the still clinging brown shriveled leaves on the sidewalk trees, like Lilliputian flags. A steady stream of people came and went, people in suits and overcoats, mothers with strollers and kids in tow, some dressed for sport and others in street clothes, hunched against the wind, their clothing flapping violently.
For several minutes, they sat in silence staring out the window. Kate searched for some understanding of her extreme agitation. It wasn’t what she’d expected. She felt him turn to gaze steadily at her, searching, then he spoke in a subdued voice.
“Look, I know it didn’t end well. I’m not sure I understand exactly what happened back then.”
She squinted at him accusingly, skeptically, but he continued. Could she blame him for being clueless about busting her heart?
“But it was such a long time ago and we were just kids. Can’t we just chalk it up to experience and move on? We’re adults now.” He stretched his hand toward her. “We’ve been getting to know each other… liking each other, haven’t we? Can’t we just keep doing that and relax?” He reached across suddenly and picked up her hand, which lay limply on the table between them, stroking it lightly with his thumb.
She yanked her hand away. How dare you? Her reaction was immediate and violent. She glared at him, frowning furiously. “Don’t think for one minute that because you kissed me, I’m suddenly ripe for picking. I’m no easy target. The past doesn’t give you… I’m not interested in starting… starting… something!”
“Whoa.” He drew back, lifting both hands, palm out. “I thought… I know you’re seeing someone, but it seemed to me we were heading here. Take it easy. I thought you… I just wanted to make the point that we don’t have to sweat the past. Just forget about it. Let’s start over.”
She drew herself up, nostrils flaring. What arrogance! How could he be so glib, so heartless? “Well maybe your faulty memory is to blame,” she said icily. “I happen to remember every detail of our so-called relationship. Including the ending. And to me, it was rather a big deal. Thank you for the reminder. I now clearly recall how callous and unfeeling you can be.”
He opened his mouth to speak, shook his head, and shut it again.
She gnawed on her lip and glared at him from under her brows, her vision darkening and narrowing, then shot to her feet and spun on her heel, grabbed her racquet and stalked out the door without another word, desperate to put as much distance between herself and Simon as possible. What a fool! How could I put myself in such a position again? Have I learned nothing?!
She strode away in her court shoes, her arms and legs bare in the cold October sunshine. A gust of wind raised gooseflesh and she shivered. She marched angrily for several minutes and then sat down with a huff on a retaining wall, breathing heavily, furiously gnashing her teeth. Ooooh. Why was her life suddenly in such turmoil? Shanti-mukti-shanti-mukti, she forced her breathing to slow down, and her vision returned to normal. She sat, observing dry brown leaves lifted from the plaza on eddies of wind, spiraling upward, tossing erratically in the moving air, falling down elsewhere, only to be yanked away again by the next squall. She felt a particular empathy with them, passive victims to their fate.
Why did Simon have the power to work her up into such a passion? If it wasn’t nerves, it was lust or anger, or obsession. Never in two years with Jay had she felt such a tumult of emotion. Maybe that was what held her back from making a commitment. On the other hand, hadn’t she been avoiding exactly this sense of lost self-control for years? Reflexively, she fingered her eternal knot pendant, wondering if all this chaos was designed to teach her a lesson.
It occurred to her she would have to return to get her clothes and car keys from the locker room. She’d be sure to wait until Simon was long gone.
~*~
“Kathryn O’Day.” She grabbed the phone, her mind still on her case notes, thinking it was Jay about Halloween. She was regretting agreeing to go to the party, but she’d promised.
“Um. Kate? It’s Simon.” An empty, electronic silence reverberated on the line. “Listen. Don’t hang up.”
“I don’t hang up on people.” Her heart pounded. Why was he calling? She’d moved through the past two days like a robot, determinedly unthinking.
“No… just storm off. You were very upset. I don’t like to leave things hanging that way. You seem skittish,” he broached carefully.
“I’m not a cat.” There were several more minutes of silence. Now she sounded peevish and immature. She released a heavy sigh. “You were out of line, but I overreacted. That’s all. I’m sorry. Let’s forget about it.”
“I don’t want to forget about it. I want to resolve it. We both have memories of what happened. I imagine we had very different experiences and�
� well, I’d like to understand yours, talk it through.” His voice was exceptionally calm, and he spoke slowly, as though he was dealing with a psychopath or a child.
Eurghh! “What if I don’t want to?”
“Please, Kate. I won’t force you to say what you don’t feel comfortable saying. But I’d like to have a chance. I just think it’s a good idea to… to… clear the air. We still have to work together. I think it will help diffuse the tension. Please.”
She made him wait a few moments. He had a point. How could they resume their sessions like this? She let out another long sigh. “Alright. When?”
“Before the next session. But I’ve got to take Maddie out Trick-or-Treating tonight. How about tomorrow evening? Maddie’s with Rachel this weekend.” He paused. “Can I take you to my favourite Indian restaurant?”
She clicked her tongue. Damn. He knew she liked Indian food. “Just talking, then. That’s all.”
“And eating. Don’t forget eating.” There was a hint of laughter in his voice. “I can pick you up—”
“Nope. I’ll meet you. Where is it?” This was not a date. She wouldn’t make it easy for him. She picked up a pen, tapping impatiently on a pad of paper.
He sighed. “Alright. It’s Balki Tandoori, on Victoria Drive. Seven o’clock?”
“Right. I’ll be there.”
CHAPTER TEN
A loud rapping at her door a while later brought Kate’s heart to her throat.
Had Simon decided to push his luck and show up at her place today? But no. That was ridiculous. He would never do that. Even her eccentric neighbour Lena called first, though she was just across the hall. There’s only one person who would show up without warning.
She walked to the door and peeked out. Yup. It was Jay, with his arms full of a big soft bundle and a stupid grin on his handsome face. She sighed and shook her head, opening the door and pulling it wide.
“Jay.”
“Hey, baby.” He barged past her, right up to the sofa and dumped his load down. The plastic bags let out a shushing sigh and a puff of damp and mothball scented cold air. “Wait till you see what I’ve got.”
She closed the door and followed him, trying to suppress the feeling of irritation at his sudden intrusion. She hadn’t been very nice to him lately. She had to try harder.
He turned and swooped down on her, capturing her face between his cold hands and planting a long, hungry, possessive kiss on her mouth. “Mmmm. God, I’ve missed you. Haven’t seen nearly enough of you lately. What’ve been doing?”
She shrugged. “Work, mostly. I’m quite involved in this new case. Making notes for my award speech in January. I really like the couple, and we’ve moved on to a draft reconciliation agreement already, so it’s going well.”
He planted another quick kiss on her lips. “That’s because you’re so brilliant.” He shucked off his coat and tossed it on the sofa. “Go out at all?”
Her ribs tightened with waves of guilt as she recalled her encounters with Simon at the ball, their long talk the next day, their shared lunches, and their impromptu squash game. Not to mention dinner tomorrow. She swallowed. She’d seen more of Simon lately than of Jay. “Saw Alex a couple times.”
Jay wrestled with the zippers on two bulky garment bags.
“What’s all this?”
He grinned at her over his shoulder. “Our costumes! I just picked them up.”
She cringed. “Er. You know I hate dressing up.”
He pulled something frilly out and held it up to her, then crushed the costume between their bodies and kissed her again while grinding his hips into hers. “Don’t say that. I so want to see you in this.” He stepped back.
She looked down and immediately recognized a stereotypical English maid costume, Playboy-bunny style, and groaned. “No way! I’m not wearing this!”
He put on a coy, puppy dog expression. “Please. You’ll be so hot in this. I’ll be wanting you all night, and you can torture me.” His hand scooped around her hip and pulled her against him again, demonstrating that he needed neither torturing nor skimpy costumes to get him worked up. “The anticipation’ll be so sweet,” he growled.
Anticipation of what? Her insides clenched involuntarily, her body remembering his enthusiastic lovemaking. It had been a couple of weeks. He was virile and athletic, and they’d always had a good time in bed. But the thought of sleeping with him tonight worried her. It felt… wrong.
She put the maid’s outfit down. “It’s just not me, Jay. Do we have to go to this party? I’m really not in the mood.”
He raised a devilish brow. “I know what you mean. We could get dressed up and make our own party here. Starting right now.”
It was only four in the afternoon. “No way. I still have work to do.”
“Just kidding. Anyway, we’ve got to go to Miles’s party. We’re in the middle of negotiating a big contract. This could cinch it for me. I’ll get outta your hair for a couple of hours. But you have to try it on for me first.”
She pulled a face. “What’s yours?”
He made yet another mischievous face. “That’s why I brought mine over here. You have to help me with the make-up.”
“What kind of make up?”
He shrugged. “Blood and stuff.”
She closed her eyes. He was like a twelve year old. Why couldn’t he dress like some obscure eighteenth century philosopher? A Roman senator or Fitzwilliam Darcy. Something dignified. Why was it always a zombie or something? “What are you supposed to be?”
“Chop-Top Sawyer!” He twisted his head to the side and leered at her in a very creepy way. It reminded her of Igor, but she was sure it was even worse than that.
She was afraid to ask. “Who?”
“From Texas Chainsaw Massacre Two. You seriously don’t know?”
“You have to ask?”
He laughed. “Ah, well. It’s okay. I’ve got photos.” He rummaged in his bags. “You should see these ugly brown teeth I found. And a bald cap with stringy hair.”
“And this is supposed to be sexy?”
His face fell, confused. “No. Did you want me to be sexy?”
“You always want me to be something sexy.” And tacky. And skanky.
“Yeah. Well?”
“Well? It goes both ways, you know. Axe murderers aren’t exactly sexy.”
“Chainsaw… But this is way more fun.”
Kate drew in a large breath and sighed heavily, wondering if he was planning on wielding an actual chainsaw to the party. There was no getting him to see it from her perspective.
He pushed the maid suit at her. “Go try it on. Be a good sport. Please?”
He wouldn’t back down. Gritting her teeth, she grabbed the bundle and marched to her bedroom to oblige him. She tore off her yoga pants and sweatshirt and wiggled into the ridiculously skimpy little dress that barely covered her crotch, tying the miniature white apron over it. She glared at herself in her dresser mirror. Her boobs were practically hanging out the low cut top. It was even skankier that she anticipated, and she looked stupid and cheap. Jay probably expected heels as well. She’d be cold and uncomfortable all night, fighting off the groping paws of every guy at the party, including the smarmy Miles whom she loathed. Not a chance in hell was she wearing this in public.
“What’s taking so long?” Jay hollered from the other room.
“Just a minute!”
She flopped down on her bed to think. How was she going to get out of this one? With Jay, it was always one thing or another. They never seemed to want the same things, enjoy the same things. It was always a battle. He was like a big kid, a little wild, wanting to play, but his idea of play invariably made her uncomfortable. And he was obtuse when she tried to explain the things she liked. She’d always smile and put up with it because he was so good-natured and fun-loving. Now she was coming to realize how this ongoing struggle was part of the problem. They were so very different.
He was a party animal, always wanting to g
o to bars and parties, drinking and dancing with groups of friends, or more often pseudo-friends who were more work colleagues or potential clients of his. He drank too much and behaved coarsely. But whenever she wanted him to accompany her to a social function of her choice, like a play or the charity ball, he cried off, pleading death by boredom.
They didn’t enjoy the same food or music or movies. The same with vacations. She loved to travel to different cultures to explore and experience new things. He would only go to Florida, Hawaii or Mexico to drink and lie by the pool. Or more likely drink while lying by the pool, and party and dance with other drunken strangers. In two years they’d been on exactly two trips together, one of her choosing and one of his. They’d both been miserable.
Then there were moments when their time together was lovely and romantic, when they’d somehow hit a happy medium, and their mutual attraction peaked. He was funny and charming. Attentive and admiring. Generous with dinners and gifts and always available. Sex was always lively and hot with Jay. But there again, it was always on his terms. Her moods and preferences seldom registered with him.
She began to wonder why his immaturity and narcissism, because that’s how she saw it now, never felt like a deal breaker before. She supposed it was because nothing better had come along. And because he wanted her. And it felt good to be desired.
She gnawed her lip and questioned whether she’d really fully dealt with her self-esteem issues during therapy. If she was completely honest, she was afraid she’d never find someone to spend her life with that was a perfect companion and complement to her. It was reasonable to have to compromise, wasn’t it?
Or was it?
“Katie!”
She hauled herself up. She had had to make a decision about Jay. Her chin dropped as she gazed blindly at the floor for long minutes. She hated to disappoint him when he had nothing but the best intentions. But now was as good a time as ever to face the truth. Better than modeling the stupid maid costume, or going to the boring party later. Better than having to endure sex with a drunken Chop-Top whoever after the party. Better than continuing on with the lies.
Reconcilable Differences: A 'Having It All' Novel Page 15
