Lies Unspoken

by Lisa De Jong

  Dana gestures to Charlie then leans over the bar, whispering something to him.

  He nods and lines three shot glasses on the bar, filling them with an amber colored liquid.

  “What’s that?” I ask, tracing my fingertip along the rim.

  Charlie grins. “Fireball. Have one, and I promise you’ll be begging for a second then a third.”

  “Let’s do this, girls!” Dana shouts, holding her glass in the air. Reece eyes me, watching until I pick mine up. “1 … 2 … 3”

  I tilt my head back, pouring the liquid down my throat. It burns a little at first, but for the most part, it just tastes like cinnamon gum. It would be easy to disappear with the entire bottle and not know what hit me until I wake up the next morning.

  “Again,” I choke, slamming my glass on the bar. I need to forget, even if it’s just tonight.

  He fills my glass. “Let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll call you a cab.”

  I wink, hoping the other two don’t pick up on my regular habit.

  After the third shot, the night blurs.

  My head aches as I attempt to open my eyes. Drinking has become a form of self-punishment. The more pain I cause myself, the less guilt I feel. It’s my way of seeking repentance. Deep down, I know repentance will never be found at the bottom of a bottle, though.

  The first thing I always do on mornings like this is try to recall what happened the night before.

  I remember laughing. That was all Dana’s fault.

  I remember arguing. Reece was on the receiving end of that.

  And crying … the water works always start after the fourth or fifth drink.

  Someone moans next to me causing me to squeal as I jump out of bed. “Damnit, Reece! Are you trying to kill me?” I scream, recognizing her as my departing gift from the bar. At least it’s not a nameless man.

  “Please stop screaming. My head is going to explode any minute,” she says quietly, circling her temples with her fingertips.

  “You scared me.”

  “Sorry,” she mumbles. “I don’t even remember how we got here, but I’m glad it was just you I woke up to.”

  My head pounds, forcing me back to my pillow. “We’re never doing Fireball shots again. Ever.”

  “Trust me. I’ll never suggest it.” She turns her head so we’re lying face to face. It reminds me of the sleepovers I had when I was younger. “What time is it anyway?”

  I pinch my eyes closed, despising the bright sunlight that shines through the crack in the curtains. “Don’t make me look. I’d have to turn around, and I can’t commit to that right now.”

  “At least it’s Saturday.”

  “No doubt. The mood board may just have to wait until tomorrow.”

  She sighs. “I’ve seen that thing a hundred times at least. It’s perfect … brilliant actually. Leave it alone.”

  “It’s not really that. I have to be able to sell it to a group of wealthy, intelligent businessmen. What if they hate it?” I speak as quietly as possible, trying not to disturb the raging demons in my head.

  “What does Pierce think?”

  “He says he loves it.”

  “Then you have nothing to worry about,” she says, curling the pillow under her head. We lay in silence for a few minutes; it’s nice to spend time with someone who doesn’t need to be entertained the entire time. “Are you ever going to be able to let him go?”

  It takes a moment before her question registers. Between the lack of sleep and pounding hammer in my head, things aren’t adding up easily. “I never had him, Reece.”

  “But you thought you did. Perception became your reality.”

  “I know. I keep waiting for him to come back and say he made a huge mistake by leaving.”

  “Has he called yet?” she asks, hesitantly.

  It’s been a sore subject—me not being able to get ahold of him. I want to know that he’s okay if nothing else. “No.”

  “After everything you’ve been through the last year, you may not believe this, but there’s someone better out there for you. Someday, you’re going to meet a guy who’ll stay by your side unconditionally.”

  “That scares me actually,” I whisper.

  “Why would that scare you?”

  “Because to get to that point, I’m going to have to trust someone again. I just don’t think I can.”

  She stares me straight in the eye. “There is one guy you trust.” My lips part, but she starts up again before I can say anything. “Maybe it’s time for you to give Pierce a real chance.”

  I open my mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. If Blake hadn’t walked into my life, Pierce would be the one lying beside me in bed right now. I don’t doubt that for a second.

  “I screwed up any chance we had a long time ago,” I say sadly.

  “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

  I think about the benefit. The night in New York. Frozen hot chocolate on Christmas Eve. I had chances but I gave them all up for Blake.

  “I don’t know. I mean … I’ve done things. He’s done things. I don’t know.”

  “Promise me one thing,” she says. “Promise me you’ll keep an open mind. I can’t stand to see you like this for much longer, and you’d hate to meet the guys I’d set you up with.”

  I laugh which only makes me wince due to the massive headache last night gifted me. “Are you going to lend me one of your many book boyfriends?”

  “Well, I’m not willing to give up any of them, but have you met the new guy in accounting?” she snorts. “The one with gold, wire-rimmed glasses and a hideous comb over complemented with a whole tube of gel.”

  My nose crinkles on instinct. “You mean he’s bald?”

  “Oh, he’s not bald. I just don’t think he’s made time for a haircut lately.” She giggles. “And, this is the best part, he wears white tube socks with black dress shoes and slacks.”

  “He’s all yours,” I say, closing my eyes to ease my headache.

  “It’s your loss. I bet he’s hung like a horse.”

  “Why don’t you find out? I think you spend too much time worrying about my love life.” I yawn, feeling myself drifting off to sleep.

  Reece leaves shortly after noon, giving me back my quiet apartment. This is how it was supposed to be when I moved here last fall, but I liked the way it was when Blake was here more.

  He took away my lonely. I would rather fight with him than be here like this, and the worst part is, I can’t even tell him.

  His second chance has been a phone call away the last several months.

  My cell phone rings, pulling me from the internal prison I’ve locked myself in.

  I look down at it and smile, swiping my thumb across the screen. “Hey, what are you up to?” I ask, fiddling with the bottom of my yoga pants.

  “Just thinking about you. Weekends are quiet here; I’m ready to come home so we can take on Chicago together.” Mallory comes home in two months, but that seems like an eternity from now.

  “What? You don’t think I’m already lighting this place up?” I ask, rolling my eyes at my own question.

  She laughs. “Yeah, I’m sure you are. What did you do last night?”

  “Reece and I went to Charlie’s. And for your information, I got drunk and woke up in bed with someone.”

  “No way,” she blurts. Would it be that much of a surprise? “Was he at least cute?”

  “He was a she.”

  “Holy shit!”

  “Mallory.”

  She laughs. “Sorry, you’re throwing me for a loop today. Are you sure you’re the same Lila I’ve been talking to the last few months?”

  “I avoided the mirror this morning, but I think so.” I pause, wondering how much of this she’s taking seriously. “Aren’t you going to ask me about her?”

  “Who?” she asks.

  “The woman I slept with last night.”

  “You’re starting to scare me.”

  “You don’t have to wo
rry too much. It was just Reece.”

  She sighs. “For a second, I thought I was going to have to catch the next plane back to the states to fix you.”

  “Am I fixable?” I ask quietly, thinking back to what Reece and I talked about this morning.

  “I don’t think you’re broken.”

  “Maybe I’m not broken, but a part of me is missing.”

  I rarely bring him up, but today he’s on my mind. He takes up so much of it, there’s no room for anything else.

  “I wish I could tell you it will all be okay, but I can’t, Lila. I know my brother, and once he makes a decision, he usually doesn’t turn back.” She takes a deep breath. She hates being in the middle, and I hate putting her there. “I’ve talked to him. He’s doing better than he was, but I wouldn’t wait for him to come back. I don’t know if he’ll ever come back.”

  “Thank you for telling me … that he’s doing better, I mean. I’ve been spending a lot of time worrying about him.”

  “He doesn’t want you to wait for him,” she whispers.

  My lungs constrict, making it hard to breathe. “Did he say that?” My voice shakes with each word.

  “No, I’m telling you as your friend and because I know my brother. I just want you to have a chance at happiness. You’re not going to get it from where you are right now,” she pleads.

  “I know.”

  There’s a long awkward pause—a rarity for the two of us.

  I can’t take it because it gives me too much time to think. I don’t need any more time for that.

  “So what are you doing this weekend?” I ask, filling the void.

  “I have a project to finish, and then I think I’m going to go to go for a hike or something. It’s too nice to be stuck inside. You?”

  “I’m going to New York with Pierce on Monday to present the board I’ve been working on for months. I should probably pack then I’ll spend the rest of the weekend talking myself out of running away.” My stomach hurts just thinking about it.

  “From what I know about Pierce, he wouldn’t put you in this position unless he thought you were ready.”

  “I’m just nervous. It wasn’t long ago I was selling furniture; it’s hard to believe sometimes.”

  “When you are stressing, think about everything you’ve overcome this last year. You’ve got this,” she says in the same tone my mom would use if I were talking to her right now.

  “Thank you. I think I needed this today.”

  “Are you sure I made you feel better?” she asks.

  “I’d be lying if I said I felt better, but I do have more clarity. I probably needed that more than anything,” I admit. I’ve been living my life by walking through it with my eyes on the ground. It’s time I look up and get a glimpse of what’s going on around me. I’ve been given the biggest opportunity of my life, and I’m going to be there for it.

  “You better call me next week and let me know how it goes.”

  “You’ll be the first to know,” I answer back before letting her go.

  The next week is going to be interesting.

  “ARE YOU READY FOR THIS?” Pierce asks when the plane reaches cruising altitude.

  “This isn’t my first rodeo,” I answer, thinking back to our last trip to New York, and the most unforgettable night I wish I could forget.

  “It’s your first big project.”

  I laugh. It’s my first project period. How many people get to say their first interior design project was a multi-million dollar hotel in New York? “You said I could handle it. I got it handled.”

  “I know you do,” he says, his voice softer, “but just in case, one of these will help.”

  He passes me a flute of bubbly champagne, and I accept without hesitation. Truth is, my stomach is in more knots than the necklace I left in my purse last week. Pierce would never say it out loud, but this project is going to net him some serious cash if it’s successful. He’s placing his bet on me, and the pressure is eating me up.

  I sip, getting a taste of the cool, bubbly liquid. The rest goes down easily after that. I lift my glass for more.

  Pierce’s warm hand wraps around my forearm. “Take it slow, Ms. Fields. I need you to be able to walk off this plane.”

  I laugh for the second time in less than ten minutes. “You haven’t called me that in months.”

  He smiles, subtly sliding his hand toward my wrist. I don’t think I was supposed to notice, but I do. “It’s been months since I’ve seen you like this. Brings me back to when you were Ms. Fields.”

  “Mr. Stanley.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Lila can hold her liquor far better than Ms. Fields ever could.” I pause, watching his smile widen. “Now, can I have another glass, please?”

  His hand slips from my arm. He pulls the champagne from the bucket, refilling my glass. “Must I ask about your recent improvement in liquor retention?”

  “I’d blame Reece and Dana, but I think we both know the real answer to that. You’re a smart guy.”

  The amused look he had seconds ago falls away. That happens a lot more than I’d like it to around me.

  “This is the point where I’m supposed to change the subject.”

  I nod, sipping more champagne.

  “What do you want to do while we’re in New York? Believe it or not, I don’t have anything planned outside of our commitments to Wade.”

  I shrug. “You don’t have to entertain me, Pierce. A soft bed and a movie sound like heaven tonight.”

  When he doesn’t respond, I look up to see his eyes glued to me. I’ve seen them like this before—in the moments before he kissed me in New York and when he showed up at my apartment on Christmas Eve.

  They’re begging.

  I want to cave.

  I want to love and be loved.

  You know when you look in someone’s eyes and all you see is truth. They stare right at you—right through you. He does that to me, and he may not realize it yet, but I do the same to him. I’ve never been more honest with anyone than I’ve been with Pierce. Honesty is easy when someone has seen the worst of you, and yet, they still stick by you. I trust him more than I’ve ever trusted anyone, but it’s hard to be loved by one man when your heart is with another.

  If only the heart wanted what it should.

  His voice cuts through the silence. “There’s this one place outside the park that I like to visit when the weather is nice. Will you come with me for lunch before we step foot into hell?”

  I bite my lip, rolling it back and forth between my teeth. Pierce is like a wrapped piece of chocolate being set in front of me: once unwrapped, there’s no way I’m going to be able to resist.

  “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

  He tilts his head, peering over at me. “How’s it any different than the lunch we had the other day?”

  Because New York is our place, I think to myself. “Pierce—”

  His index finger touches his lips, halting my words. “You think too much.”

  “You don’t think enough.”

  He laughs—deep and throaty. “Lila, if you had a thirty-second view into this head of mine, you’d get dizzy.” He pauses, his eyes dancing between mine. “Especially now.”

  “This is exactly what I was talking about. We’ve teetered on this line before, and I can’t take another chance like that. Not now.”

  “It’s just two people enjoying a meal together.”

  “It was the same the last time we were in New York.”

  He shakes his head. “You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

  “Almost everything,” I quietly answer.

  I don’t have an answer for Blake.

  The plane lands smoothly, pulling up to a waiting black town car. If I do this ten or twenty more times, I might not require champagne to make it through. The driver pulls our luggage from the plane as Pierce and I make our way down the stairs and slide into the back seat of the car.

 
I fixate on the cityscape while Pierce rattles off an address. Memories of the last time we were in New York creep up to the forefront of my mind … and everything that happened in the weeks that followed. I wish it would all just go away.

  “Have you ever been to Madison Square Park?” Pierce asks after a few minutes of silence.

  “I’ve only been in New York with you so if we didn’t go, I haven’t been there.” The answer comes out sharper than I intended it to but yet I don’t apologize.

  “I guess it’s going to be your first time then,” he says as the car pulls in front of a lush green lawn guarded by a wrought iron fence and mature trees. It looks foreign in the city.

  “What are we doing here?” I ask, looking over at him.

  “Having lunch.” He opens his door and steps out without looking back.

  I follow behind, walking as quickly as I can in my heels to catch him. “If I’m not mistaken, I declined your invitation.”

  He laughs, turning back to look at the street. “Looks like our car already left. Do you want to sit on the bench over there and wait two hours for it to come back, or would you like to have lunch with me?”

  “This isn’t fair.”

  He shrugs. “Life rarely is.”

  Without another word, he starts walking down the paved path again. I stand with my hands clenched, debating my next move. I hate giving in, but I’m also not keen on being left alone in New York.

  “I’m not very happy with you,” I say as soon as I catch up.

  “I don’t think you have been for months. Why would that change now?”

  He’s right. What happened on Christmas Day put a fence up between us.

  “Where are we eating?” I ask, changing the subject.

  “Shake Shack.” He sounds like a little kid who has just been promised ice cream with sprinkles.

  “And it’s in this park?”

  “Yep”

  I stay close behind him taking in the colorful flowers and smiling children that we pass by. Before long, we reach what I can only describe as a fancy concession stand. It’s a nicely appointed metal building surrounded by a crowd of suits and families alike.

  “This is where you wanted to have lunch?” I ask, breaking the silence.