Light Me Up

by Isabel Sharpe

  If he turned and looked at her now, if he gave any indication he understood what the song was saying, not about them, but just about the love it was possible for two people to have, something he’d never acknowledged before, she was going to shatter all over his carpet. He’d be picking up bits of Bonnie for the rest of his life.

  Maybe that’s what he deserved.

  He didn’t look at her. He took his hands off the keys and put them in his lap.

  “Beautiful, Seth.”

  “I hoped you’d like it.” He cleared his throat, drew his finger across the keyboard without depressing notes enough for sound.

  Bonnie wasn’t sure what to say next. She felt as if she were walking on eggshells with this man who was so terrified of all the same emotions he’d just put down on paper. “You haven’t written many romantic songs like that.”

  “Nope.” His fingers turned restless, picked out a tune she didn’t recognize.

  “Your friend talking must have...I don’t know, brought out something in you?” She laughed slightly hysterically. “I don’t even know what I’m trying to say.”

  “Yes, you do, Bonnie.”

  Adrenaline bolted through her. He was right. She did. But she couldn’t admit it out loud, and neither could he. They’d never get over their fears, either of them. Bonnie of being hurt, Seth of losing himself. It was such a poignant, frustrating and colossal waste.

  She’d been looking at online dating sites—just looking for now. But more and more often she’d find herself thinking what she might like to say in her profile. After college she’d dated a couple of guys, friends of friends, but with Seth still firmly lodged in her heart, nothing had a chance of working out. Checking out dating services was a good sign, now, that she was really getting ready to burst free of the Seth-chains and find a relationship she could truly indulge, not one defined and bound by what it wasn’t and couldn’t ever be.

  “I guess I wanted to know why you got so sentimental about love all of a sudden.”

  He wrinkled his nose, finally meeting her eyes with his sultry gray ones. “It’s not all of a sudden, Bon. This is the first one I was happy with, though I still think it needs something. It’s not quite there.”

  “Who else have you played—”

  “No one’s heard it but you.” He spoke aggressively. She held her breath, waiting, but he didn’t go on, not that she really thought he would.

  Don’t read anything into this, girl.

  Too late. She could feel her eternally, relentlessly stupid hope rising yet again. Who was she kidding? Bonnie hadn’t learned a bloody thing where Seth was concerned.

  She pushed a dumpling across the plate, then gave up, appetite gone. “Well, I’m not a musician, but I think it’s perfect.”

  “Thanks.” He looked up, grinning that divinely goofy grin, and their eyes locked. Held.

  Oh, Seth.

  “Bonnie.”

  “Yeah?” She knew what was coming, she felt it. Please, God, give her the strength, courage and balls, if necessary, to slap him down.

  “After all this time between us...”

  “Yes?” That was the last time she was going to say “Yes” until she was back safely in her apartment having not just gotten laid again by the love of her life.

  No, he was only her first love. There would be another man, at least one, and he’d be the real love of her life. She needed to repeat that concept over and over and over until she believed it.

  “I want to tell you...” Seth got up from the piano bench, crossed over and knelt in front of her, put one gentle palm to either side of her face, gazing at her earnestly.

  Bonnie took her hand off the plate in her lap because it was shaking so much her fork was rattling. Don’t do this. Not tonight.

  “I care for you a lot.”

  Oh, help.

  “Seth, you know I care for you, too.” She tried to keep the god-awful vulnerability out of her eyes and voice.

  “You are a really great person. I just think... I want to say that...” His struggle was clearly painful, but she couldn’t help him. She wouldn’t. He took in a huge breath. “I’m...glad you’re my friend.”

  What the—

  Friend?

  Friend?

  For God’s sake. She was suddenly and thoroughly furious. Lifting the plate, elbows out, which effectively removed his hands from her face, she shoveled in two dumplings at once, chewing viciously. “Yup. You ’n me, BFFs forever.”

  Seth sat back on his heels, looking frustrated. “I’m not good at this feelings crap. I just want you to know you’re still...special to me.”

  This time Bonnie waited to speak until her mouth was empty.

  “I know, Seth. We’ve been over that. We’ve been over that again and again and again. I get it. You are special to me, too.” She put the plate on the table next to her chair and stood abruptly. “I really appreciate you sharing that song with me. It was wonderful. And I’m going to go now because I’m exhausted and it’s been a long—”

  “Bonnie.” As he got to his feet she caught an all too rare glimpse of the bewildered boy who lived inside him, the one who was stomped down 24/7 by his father whenever he showed any sign of spirit or sensitivity. Whatever Seth had to say now, she didn’t want to hear it unless he was finally admitting that he loved her and how about getting married? Since that wasn’t going to happen...

  “I’ve gotta go. Thanks for the dumplings. They were fantastic.”

  “Yeah. Sure.” He nodded, stuffed his hands into his back pockets. “No problem.”

  Bonnie moved toward the door, sick to death of conversations over, under and around any solution to their stalemate. The past several months had brought back too many feelings and with them the problems she’d hoped were finally dead, or at least in permanent hibernation.

  What a joke to have thought she could bear living so close to him, seeing him so often, being in these intimate situations time and time again.

  If only the rest of her life were going well, and she didn’t feel this undercurrent of neediness and fear that being with Seth did so much to dispel. She had to stop looking to him for answers to problems only she could solve.

  “Take care.” She managed a bright smile at his door and gave him a brief hug, pulling away when his arms tried to hold her longer. She was proud of herself for leaving, keeping her feelings hidden, not showing him how close she’d been to teetering over the edge once more.

  If only she hadn’t said that same thing to herself so many, many times before....

  4

  Blood Pressure: Moderately High

  “SO...MARY JO WAS constantly touching you and making suggestive remarks right in the sales department. But no other employees ever saw her doing this.”

  “Yeah. Uh-huh.” Bob Whatsisname nodded. He was slouching in a chair in front of Melissa’s desk, one of the most stunning men she’d ever seen, the kind that turned heads in the street. Her office was tiny, but since she often had to have confidential interviews, she did have four walls and a door. “I mean, yeah, she did, and no—no one saw.”

  “And after you asked her to stop...”

  “She wouldn’t.”

  Melissa sighed. “Bob, are you aware that this is your third sexual harassment complaint against store personnel in as many years? We could never prove the first two against Susan and Jess, and there has never been an employee who has been harassed even twice before you. We’ve transferred you both times in order to—”

  “What does that have to do with anything?” He jutted his perfectly square jaw. “You think I’m making this up?”

  “No, no, of course not.” Maybe.

  “Okay, tell you what. You come downstairs sometime incognito and watch. You’ll see.”

  Melissa leaned back and scratched the bridge of her nose delicately with one finger, briefly considering using the middle one. “I don’t think that would be the best use of my time.”

  “Well, how else are you going to be
lieve me? No one ever sees it. But it happens.”

  Melissa sighed. She could certainly understand how some women might be tempted. Bob was not only handsome enough to stop traffic, but clearly spent every second of his free time working out. And wasn’t that a life well lived? It was tempting to think this was more about him and his need to be wildly attractive to everyone than it was about any women needing to touch his manflesh. Melissa’s boss, Barbara, knew Mary Jo, the woman he was accusing, and said she was happily married and the mother of two adorable kids. She couldn’t imagine Mary Jo risking her job for a piece of male meat—Barbara’s words, not Melissa’s.

  “Is there any chance that the women, in this case Mary Jo, are just being friendly and that you are misinterpreting—”

  “How friendly do you have to be to clamp down on my ass and squeeze like it’s a ripe melon?”

  Melissa coughed so she wouldn’t giggle. “Earlier you said she ‘touched’ you. But now it’s ‘clamp and squeeze’?”

  She was doing everything possible not to laugh, thinking tragic thoughts, focusing on her new blood-pressure-friendly office decor: the Zen garden—a wooden box with sand raked in patterns among carefully placed stones; the metal figure of a cat stretching—the ultimate in luxuriant relaxation; her pictures—endless peaceful mountains, Gretchen and Ted, Mom and Dad....

  All day she’d been having a terrible time calming down. The prospect of meeting Jack later had her in a state that would give her doctor apoplexy. She was doing the right thing for her sister’s wedding. She just wished she knew what would be expected of her for these pictures, and how she’d be able to keep her physical reaction to Jack under control.

  She’d get the chance to talk to Barbara soon; Barbara would be able to put this all in perspective.

  “I don’t know what words to use to describe what happened. I don’t care.” He was pouting now. “It just sucked. Like I’m burger meat or something.”

  “You’re not burger meat, Bob.” Well, there was a phrase she’d never imagined herself saying to anyone. “You’re a valuable employee, one of our best salespeople. We will definitely take this seriously.”

  “Yeah. Good. Thanks. Thanks a lot. I’d hate to have to transfer again.”

  “I understand. Okay. So...” She stood up. He still sat there. She waited a beat. Hello, Bob? “Was there anything else?”

  “I just want to say how you’re really great.” He grinned at her warmly, showing—of course—perfect white teeth.

  “Oh. Thank you.” She kept her voice brisk. Where was this going? “I appreciate that.”

  “I feel like I can come to you with anything.”

  “Absolutely.” She smiled. Okay, Bob, you can leave now. You’re giving me the creeps. “That’s my job.”

  “Yeah. I guess. But you do it like you mean it. Not like most people.”

  “I do mean it.” Most of the time. Not so much now. It was four o’clock. She was leaving to meet Jack in an hour. She wanted time to talk to Barbara. She wanted Bob to go away. She didn’t think he was coming on to her, but he was definitely behaving oddly.

  “Okay. Well.” He rubbed his hands on his pants and stood up, extended a perfectly manicured hand for her to shake. “I gotta go.”

  “Enjoy your evening.”

  “You, too, Melissa.” He threw her a grateful look and left the office.

  Honestly. She had serious and legitimate problems to deal with: a manager who’d been with the company nearly two decades and was now suspected of having a substance-abuse problem, employees not getting along with their colleagues, the company struggling over the need to keep its most talented workers and at the same time cut back benefits to balance the budget. She did not want to spend this much time on Bob’s melons. And yet the mess was in her lap now.

  She gathered paperwork for her meeting with Barbara and headed around the corner to the bigwig offices on the west wall of the building, which faced Puget Sound. They were going to discuss Bob Whatsisname and a new hire for the store in Ann Arbor, but Melissa hoped they’d have a few extra minutes to talk about Jack.

  “Knock knock?” She pushed open Barbara’s door, ajar as usual.

  “Hey, Melissa, come in.” Barbara grinned her welcome, blond hair carefully arranged in waves to her shoulders, makeup perfect as always. Today she wore a blue suit that fitted her carefully preserved figure to perfection. She was one of those women whose age was impossible to pinpoint. Melissa would put her somewhere between fifty and sixty.

  Barbara had taken a risk on Melissa, hiring her straight out of college, and Melissa had spent the past three years working her butt off so as not to disappoint her mentor. As trust grew between them, their excellent professional relationship had gradually ventured into the personal. Barbara’s husband had left her for a woman half her age, deciding out of the blue at fifty-five, right after retiring, that he wanted children. Through all that horror, Melissa had only seen Barbara in tears once—the day she and Frank decided he could take better care of their dog, Stuyvesant.

  To say Melissa admired her boss was an understatement. Melissa had always felt like an alien in her family of passive peaceful personalities. In Barbara she’d found a woman much like herself, with strong attitudes and opinions, and a dedication to the goal of women being independent and self-sufficient.

  Barbara had been instrumental in rescuing Melissa from a difficult time after graduation when she’d been in a bit of a panic, without a clear career path, feeling pressure to marry as her mother had done and many of her friends were doing. She firmly resisted, even though her then-boyfriend, Trevor, was a total sweetheart who would have been happy to settle down. Barbara had taken Melissa under her wing and shown her for the first time a basic truth more people needed to learn: it was never wrong to be the person you were.

  “Hi, Barbara. How was the trip?” Barbara had been traveling most of the week, and had been swamped the day before, so they hadn’t had much chance to talk.

  “Long, tiring but productive. How are things with you?”

  “Crazy week.” She went over the Ann Arbor hire with Barbara, and brought her up to speed on Bob. “It’s certainly possible he’s telling the truth.”

  Barbara watched her keenly. “But you don’t think so.”

  “I can’t really call it, but something doesn’t feel right.”

  “Go with that.” Barbara tented her fingers. “Of course, we have to get evidence and document our steps, but you can always trust your instinct. Let’s get Mary Jo in here, see how Bob might have misunderstood. Maybe he’s exaggerating or he’s making it up, which gets my vote. He’s one of our best salespeople, though, isn’t he?”

  Melissa nodded. “Two years running. People fall all over themselves to buy from him.”

  “Gorgeous, too, huh?”

  “Unbelievable.”

  “They’re always trouble. We’ll keep on it and see what happens.” She plunked her elbows on her desk. “So tell me how you’ve been doing on your new reduced schedule. Happy, relaxed, going crazy?”

  “Yes.” She grinned when Barbara laughed. “Though I do have an opportunity for something...different.”

  She outlined the situation, leaving out the part where she’d been awake half the night thinking about Jack and the other half dreaming about him, bizarre dreams that ran from arousing to disturbing.

  Barbara listened, frowning more and more deeply. “I’m not loving the sound of this guy.”

  Melissa’s stomach lurched. “He’s...something.”

  “A manipulator. Is he attractive?”

  She barely kept herself from shouting, God, yes! “Uh-huh.”

  “Your type?”

  “Not in the slightest.”

  “Hmm.” Barbara picked up a pencil. “But you think he’s hot.”

  “He is hot. What I think is irrelevant.”

  She laughed. “Good one. So what’s your feeling? Can he be trusted?”

  “I don’t know yet. His friends were g
reat. I liked both of them and they obviously trust him.”

  “Men or women?”

  “Both women.”

  Barbara dismissed Angela and Bonnie with a wave. “You don’t know them, or what their agenda might be.”

  Agenda? She couldn’t see Angela or Bonnie with agendas, but then Barbara was right. She knew nothing about either of them. “True.”

  “They could want you to model for Jack because he’s been bugging them to do it, and it’s a hellish procedure and they want him off their backs.”

  “Oh.” Her leg started jiggling. “That’s possible, yes.”

  “Or they could be in on some money-making scheme with him. Identity theft.” She shook her head mournfully. “You really have no idea.”

  “No.” She felt a churning in her chest, an overwhelming restlessness, and had to force her leg to be still.

  Barbara shrugged. “Or it could all be completely legit. But you can’t assume that.”

  “He says he shows at the Unko Gallery and that they’re interested in whatever series he wants to use me for.”

  “He says.”

  “I saw the gallery brochure. Jack was in it.”

  “Hmm. That is impressive.” Barbara frowned, as if she didn’t like finding out Jack might be legit. “But it says nothing about his character.”

  Melissa released her hair from its clasp, put it back in. “I have to say, I was flattered he wanted to photograph me, but you’re right, I have no idea what’s really going on, or what he’s after.”

  “Right.” Barbara leaned back in her executive chair, tapping the pencil against her cheek. “One seldom does, though with men you can be sure they’re after one thing anyway.”

  Melissa’s leg started jiggling again; she was ashamed of the thrill that had gone through her. “He won’t be getting anything but pictures from me.”

  “Good for you. Once they get sex, they own you, or think they do.”

  “Ha.” Melissa chewed at her lip. She wasn’t sure she agreed with that one. Her father had adored her mother. Ted adored Gretchen. “Or you own them. Not sure which is worse.”