by Lucy Lambert
Chapter 28
CHARLIE
“Dress fancy…” I said. I grabbed another dress from my closet. A dark red thing with a teardrop cut on the bust I couldn’t even remember buying. I made a noise of dismissal and threw it on the growing pile on my bed.
“What does that even mean?” I grumbled.
Rufus didn’t answer. He just looked up at me from his bed in the corner, tail thumping slowly.
“Great help you are. And don’t lie on these! I don’t think dog hair dresses are in style yet.”
I was also worried. My closet was almost empty. If I couldn't find a good one soon I’d need to go through my discard pile again. Pick the best of the worst, I thought.
Not for the first time since getting home, I thought about a quick shopping trip for something new. I looked at the clock. It was after four. Not enough time!
Why couldn’t he tell me more? I need more information! Was it a dinner? Was it taking in a show? Dancing?
Why didn’t men know that different occasions needed different dresses?
Right at the very back of the closet a slim black thing hung from the bar. I pulled it out. It ended just above the knee. It showed just enough cleavage to be tantalizing yet didn’t reveal too much that it would be considered scandalous. The back plunged a little, true.
But I knew for a fact that Alex loved my back. He liked to run his fingertips along between my shoulder blades, down the dimple of my spine, just light enough that I could barely feel his touch. It was intense.
Just thinking about it made me shiver and break out in goose bumps.
And this was one easy to slip in and out of. It’ll have to do.
I put it on and found a pair of black heels to go with it. Not stilettos, those adorable killers of feet, but wedges that added an inch or so.
I pulled the zipper up with a minor act of contortion, pleased with myself. Who needs a man for help?
I checked myself in the mirror, twisting this way and that. I still had to do my hair, but I thought I looked pretty good.
The buzzer went off. I ran over to the intercom and pushed the button. “Come on up. You’re early!”
Like I said, it was only a bit after four.
He probably wants to see what sort of trouble he can get into before we head out. I thought that sounded nice, but I also resolved to make him work for it. It would be fun.
When the knock came from the door I already stood in the front hall, waiting. As usual, my heart started thumping in anticipation of seeing him again.
It had been almost two months now and I still got excited to see him. I didn’t think that feeling was ever going away. I liked it. No one had made me feel that way in a long time.
Not since… I thought, pulling the chain out of the lock and throwing the deadbolt back.
Since…
I pulled the door open, my heart trying its best to climb up my throat. Maybe I won’t make him work too hard.
“Hey,” he said.
My heart turned to lead and dropped into my stomach. “Brady? What… What are you doing here?”
It was him, the man I’d barely given a thought to since getting more serious with Alex. He was blond where Alex was dark. Pretty where Alex was handsome. Hazel-eyed instead of blue.
Just seeing him opened the floodgates on a torrent of feelings I’d thought gone for good.
Especially the hurt. That old ache I’d thought closed up opened once more. That slow-burning agony of rejection and self-hate.
“I thought about calling you, but then I thought that coming to see you was better,” he said, “You look good. Really good, Char.”
Rufus came padding out into the hall. When he saw who it was, he growled. I was glad then that the door wasn’t open more. He’d pounce on Brady right away.
I remembered my dress then and blushed. This isn’t meant for you, I thought. Then, Why didn't I say anything on the intercom? I would have recognized his voice! Told him to get lost!
I knew why, of course. It was because I thought he was Alex.
“Go away,” I said, closing the door. Hot tears pushed at the back of my eyes, the pressure painful, and I thanked God for small favors that I hadn’t yet put on my makeup for the evening.
He put his foot in the jamb. Where Alex wore dress shoes, Brady wore boots. Steel-toed ones that protected his foot when I shoved harder on the door.
“I saw you on the news last month. For that school program thing you did. They said a lot of good things about you and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you ever since. Thinking about us, I mean,” he said.
I wished then that Alex might show up early as well, maybe from some flash of intuition, somehow get inside, and get rid of him. Maybe clock him a good one. That kind of thing only happened in stories, though.
He didn’t try and push his way in yet, at least.
“There is no us, remember?” I said, putting my shoulder against the door. “You said yourself that you knew we couldn’t last forever.”
“I was wrong. I made a mistake. I think we’re worth another shot, Char. Don’t tell me you don't think the same way,” he said. He still didn’t do anything but keep his foot in the jamb.
I swallowed against the lump in my throat. It was all too much. Why does he have to do this now?
“I’m seeing something else, Brady. You should do the same.”
“The only woman I can see is you, baby,” he replied with hesitation. “We had it good before. We can have it even better now. I just know we can. You’re always talking about giving your kids as many chances as they need. Why not me? Don’t I deserve another shot? Don’t we?”
I hated how he always called my students kids. Always had. And no matter how many times we argued about it, he’d never changed.
An idea flashed through my mind, sparked by my anger.
“Brady…” I said. I made my voice as sweet as I could. I opened the door the rest of the way. I smiled at him, hoping he didn’t see how the only thing on my face that smiled was my mouth.
“Yeah, babe?” He said.
Then he did it. He pulled his foot back.
I slammed the door shut and threw the deadbolt. The steel toe of his boot hit the bottom of the door a moment too late, the knock of the impact echoing down my short hallway.
“Get the hell out of my life!” I said.
“Don’t be like this, Char,” he said. “I made a mistake. Can’t you see that? Can’t you see you’re making a mistake right now?”
“Get the hell out before I call the cops and tell them there's a crazy asshole at my door!” I said. I put my hands on the door and looked through the peephole.
I looked just in time to see his fist shoot forward. He hit the door, rattling it in its frame. I jerked back. “You’ll call. I know you will. I know you, Char. Better than you know yourself.”
Then he walked away.
I sunk down against the door, hugging myself. My heart slammed against my ribs. My body shook with the aftershocks of an adrenaline rush and those hot-cold feelings that came with it.
“No you don’t,” I said, “You’re wrong.” I resolved to not let this rattle me. I swallowed hard again, as if I could just swallow my feelings down somewhere deep inside and forget about them again.
I’m not going to let him get to me. Not now. Not after what he did to me.
But I did.
The clock over my kitchen door read 5:30 on the nose when my buzzer zipped again. I pushed the button on the intercom.
“Who is it?” I said.
“Me.”
It sounded like him. But then again, phone lines and intercoms and radios all did funny things to a person’s voice.
“Who’s me?” I said. I had the intercom button pushed down hard enough to turn my thumbnail white.
“This sounds like a trick question. How many guesses do I get?” Came the response.
I sighed and shook my head. It was definitely Alex. I hit the button to let him in
and soon heard a knock at my door.
I opened it, but not before I quick peek through the peephole first. Just making sure.
“Wow,” he said when I opened the door.
“I wasn’t sure what you meant when you said to dress fancy. This is okay?” I said.
“It’s perfect,” he replied.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” I said, taking him in as well.
He wore another dark ensemble. Another perfectly tailored suit to show off that perfectly tailored body underneath.
“We should get going so that we’re only fashionably late and not really late,” he said.
“Okay, just let me grab some things…” I started, turning to go grab the little clutch I had that matched the dress.
“But first,” he said. He grabbed my wrist before I could turn away from him. He didn’t finish the sentence.
Instead he pulled me close and kissed me. Much like that suit was tailored to his body, his mouth seemed tailored to mine.
I didn’t even squawk at him about not messing up my hair or anything.
He parted from me sooner than I wanted and I scowled up at him. He grinned back. It was exactly what he wanted.
Rufus came bounding over, ready to leap onto Alex, get fur all over his nice suit.
“Down!” I said, just in time. He skidded to a halt, tail thumping on the floor, tongue lolling from the side of his mouth.
“Good boy,” Alex said, ruffling the fur on Rufus’s head between his ears.
Soon enough we sat in his car, fighting through the traffic.
“Where are we going?” I said, “You still haven’t told me.”
“I thought you’d like a little taste of my world,” he said, “There’s a little get together going on at a friend’s place down by Hyde Park.”
“Hyde Park?” I said, looking out at the traffic, “When were you planning on us getting there? Midnight?”
“Much sooner than that,” he said.
I don’t know how he did it, but he somehow managed to skirt a lot of the rush hour traffic. I think we even took an alley or two that technically weren’t even roads.
But before we got there he looked at me and said, “So what’s wrong?”
My heart started pattering. I looked away from him, pretending to study my face in the passenger mirror. “Who said anything’s wrong?”
“You didn’t have to say anything. Well… I guess the interrogation over the intercom counts. So what is it? Were you expecting someone else?”
Damn it, Brady. Why did you have to choose tonight of all nights to try and butt back into my life? I had just begun thinking I was completely over him. And ever since he showed his face I had become a maelstrom of emotions and memories.
I didn’t want him interfering in my life anymore, though. “It was nothing. I just saw someone I never thought I’d see again.”
“And you’re okay?”
“Just fine. Are we there yet?”
There turned out to be a new development just beside the park. There was a large business center—offices, halls for conferences, that sort of thing—joined to a brand-spanking-new condo tower that seemed made entirely of glass and nothing else.
The valet took Alex’s Mercedes and Alex took me into the main hall of the business center. It was a huge room with a burbling fountain in the center. Marble everywhere my eyes landed. Some classical music emanated from speakers hidden cleverly throughout the space.
And did I mention the people? There had to be a couple hundred. Men in suits, women in dresses (probably much more expensive than mine) and loads of servers in red vests with trays of champagne and finger food.
I gripped Alex’s bicep with both hands. This was by far the swankiest party I’d ever been to. And Alex had called it a little get together.
What did he think of as an actual party? I wondered.
“Don’t be nervous. Pretend they’re just a classroom of unruly students,” he said.
“I’d rather picture you in your underwear,” I replied. That had become something of a running inside joke between the two of us. He smiled, his eyes scanning the crowd.
Of course, we’d been seeing each other in considerably less than our underwear an awful lot lately.
Not that I was complaining.
At that moment, I wished we were at my place or his seeing each other in our respective underwear (or less) rather than at this shindig.
“Really though,” he said, “Is everything okay?”
“Stop asking me that,” I said, coming off more annoyed than I wanted. The truth was, my unexpected meeting with my ex shook me up a lot more than I originally thought.
I found myself in the midst of my trust issues again. Those same commitment issues that had first driven Brady from me weren’t gone, it seemed.
I wanted to go home and bury myself in marking. In going over my midterm tests again and again until they were perfect.
“Okay. Then you’ll come dance with me,” he said.
“Dance?” I said, noticing the dance floor for the first time. Couples whirled about on it. Was it a waltz or a tango or what? Whatever it was, I didn’t know it.
I said as much.
“Good thing you have me here to lead you then. Come on, you have nothing to worry about. Trust me,” he said.
Before I could disagree, he took me by the hand and led me out. He put one of my hands on his shoulder and took the other in one of his own. His own spare hand touched the small of my back.
“I really don’t know…” I said.
But before I could finish we whirled off. I kept looking down at our feet, worried I’d land the wedge of my heel on his instep.
“Not my feet, my face,” he said, “Look into my eyes.”
I did, and somehow everything was all right. I don’t know how, just that it was. I didn’t step on his feet.
I could lose myself in those eyes of his, and I did.
By the time the dance finished, I’d almost forgotten about Brady’s intrusion. Almost.
Alex dipped me and gave me a kiss. “See?”
“Yeah,” I said. I caught my breath while the couples around me did the same. The dance didn’t look that exhausting, but something about it took your breath away. Maybe it had something to do with the person you danced with.
And he still had his hand pressed to the small of my back. I could feel its warmth through the thin fabric of my dress.
This isn’t so bad. Kind of nice, actually, I thought. And the room really was pretty.
“Time for a drink,” he said, turning to find the nearest red-vested bearer of champagne.
Then the woman in the red dress forced her way out onto the dance floor. It took me a moment to recognize her. Long enough for her to stop in front of us, her hands on her hips.
“Alisha?” I said, looking at Alex, “Isn’t she your assistant?”
He frowned, his jaw tight. “Used to be.”
“How sweet, you remember my name,” Alisha said. She smiled at me like a person smiles at a puppy when it remembers how to shake a paw.
“What are you doing here?” Alex said. He had the demeanor of an attack dog, its hackles raised, ready to strike.
“I used to manage your life, Alex. Don’t you remember?” Alisha said.
“I remember firing you,” he said.
“You haven’t been answering your phone, Alex,” she said, “So I decided to come and see you in person.”
Another song started up. The couples around us began dancing again, leaving us standing there in the center, like the eye of a hurricane.
“What do you say, one last dance? For old time’s sake? For what we were?” Alisha said, holding her hands out to Alex.
“We were nothing. You know that, Alisha. What possible reason could you have for doing this?” Alex said. He made no move to accept her invitation.
“Wait,” I said, “Were you two together?”
“No,” Alisha said, turning her glare on me. It was a w
ithering glare, but I stood up to it. “But we could have been. If he hadn’t met you. He got all hot for teacher and my prospects dried up faster than a rainstorm in the desert.”
“You never said anything about her going after you, Alex,” I said. I thought about when she came to confront me at my building. When she showed up at the teacher’s lounge. Why couldn’t she just take the hint that Alex didn’t want her?
Alisha smiled. Her lips were the same shade of red as her dress. “I’ll bet there’s a whole lot more he hasn’t told you. Like the pictures. Did you tell her about the pictures?”
“Pictures?” I said.
“Let’s get out of here,” Alex said, the muscles in his jaw working.
“Yes, let’s,” I said. Alisha had this crazy glint in her eye I didn’t like. I wanted to ask Alex what she meant about pictures, but I didn’t want to do it in front of her. It was what she wanted, I could tell.
It can’t be that bad though, right? I thought while he led us through the crowd towards the door. I mean, I had my ex. And I knew a man like him had flings before. I just thought it was all behind us.
The valet pulled his Mercedes around and we climbed in. It was dark out now. This late in the year, it darkened early. And it was cold. When the sun went the heat left with it. I hadn’t brought a coat.
“I’m sorry,” Alex said, “I never thought she’d do something like this. She actually hasn’t called in a while, so I thought she might have finally moved on.”
“Sometimes exes don’t move on as fast as you’d like,” I said, my stomach churning with the memory of that earlier conversation.
“She’s not my ex. I thought she understood,” Alex said.
“What did she mean by the pictures?”
Before Alex could answer, a grey sports car zipped in front of us and slammed on its brakes. The cherry tail lights had me squinting with their brightness while Alex stomped on his own brakes to avoid a collision. His knuckles went white around the steering wheel.
My seat belt tightened across me, biting into my shoulder and my lap.
When we came to a stop I saw we were inches from the car’s bumper. It was an Audi. A sleek grey one, the color of the car the same color as a shark’s skin.
I couldn’t see into it. A combination of the tint on the Audi’s rear window and the reflective light of the street lamp shining down on us.
