by T Gephart
“Yeah, she did. She sends her apologies.”
Wow, he must be great in a courtroom. Not a hesitation, the lie passing through his lips like he had said, the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help him God.
She might have left, but I was almost positive it wasn’t “apologies” that were uttered from those perky pink lips.
Alex took a seat beside me, offering no further explanation and I tried not to recoil. He wasn’t the only one who had a good poker face, my mixed feelings stuffed down deep as I laughed about something insignificant.
It was a talent, pretending I wasn’t silently seething as I carried on a normal and rational conversation. It was something I’d had to learn pretty quickly, and had served me well facing the ethics committee of the California State Bar when they grilled me about my feelings about my father.
I wasn’t mad because Alex had a girlfriend. I mean, he looked like that, it made sense he wasn’t sitting around single flicking through options on dating websites. What annoyed me was that he hadn’t even mentioned her, shuffling her off like the dirty secret while he returned as if she hadn’t even existed.
He wasn’t allowed to be that guy, like my father—I just wouldn’t allow it.
Or at least I wouldn’t stand around and witness it.
Kate had just announced that we should move to the dining room for the big family dinner when I made my excuse. That I’d love to stay but unfortunately I had plans. Thanks, but some other time. It was great to see everyone and we’d do it again sometime soon. I used them all, not even feeling the slightest bit of guilt as Alex eyed me with suspicion.
The hypocrisy.
So, with the grace of a world leader at a peacekeeping summit, I circled the room making sure I said thank you and goodbye while maintaining my smile. After all, it wasn’t their fault I was angry, all of them being incredibly kind and welcoming despite the circumstances surrounding my absence.
Alex followed me to the door, as did Kate—Mama Larsson giving me another hug and making me promise to call her soon before she’d let me go. I agreed, fully intending to keep my word and waited until she’d returned to the bustle of her dining room before I let my smile drop.
“You’re seriously going?” he asked, his gaze flicking between my hand on the doorknob and my eyes. “Why are you leaving?”
Lord.
He had to be a smart man, surely they didn’t give out law degrees to morons. And yet, he was asking the question, fucking bewildered as to why I was saying goodbye.
Don’t make a scene, I reminded myself. No good will come of it.
I ignored that he had been my ride to Casa Larsson and plucked out my phone from my handbag. While the chances of hailing a cab weren’t great, there were about a hundred Ubers just waiting to take me home. “I told you I had things to do. I only promised to stay an hour and it’s been closer to two. I really should get back.”
And while it was partially true, it wasn’t a boldface lie either. I did have things to do, like give myself a good shake and remind myself that sometimes people change.
“Back to where? Your apartment? Or you have other plans?” He watched as I flicked through my phone. “Tell me where you want to go and I’ll drive you.”
“Alex, you’re here with your family. It would be silly to leave.” Besides, I didn’t want him to. “I didn’t mention it before but I had promised to meet a friend for a drink before I agreed to come here. I don’t have many friends in L.A. and I don’t want to be rude.”
His eyes rolled down the front of my dress, like he was seeing it differently. Perhaps assuming the effort hadn’t been for him. “You have a date?”
“No. Not a date. I haven’t got time to date.” There was no need to lie; I wasn’t trying to make him jealous. And romance was the last thing on my mind.
“Then let me drive you home. My mom will have my balls if she finds out I left you to find your own ride.”
He looked genuinely sincere, those puppy dog eyes doing their best to convince me I didn’t really want to leave by myself. I had to look away, worried that if I stared too long into them I might say yes.
“Alex, I know you have no problem omitting the truth from your mother, you’ve been stealing her wine for God’s sake. Just tell her I got a ride from a friend.” My eyes dropped down to my phone, hitting the button to accept the Uber driver. “My friend Roger.” I flashed the phone and showed him my new buddy’s picture.
He wanted to argue, but he really didn’t have grounds especially when he’d already set precedence. That was the problem with lawyers, everything counted. He couldn’t sneak out a bottle of his mom’s red and then say he felt bad because he told a tiny white lie. Nope. Couldn’t do it. Which was why he shoved his hands into his pockets and looked at me instead.
“Is this about Astrid?”
I laughed, actually laughed because I had not ten minutes ago been convinced of his intelligence. “She seems like a nice girl, but I’m not leaving because of her.”
I was leaving because of him.
“Okay, well I’ll call you and we’ll catch up later in the week.” It wasn’t a question, more like telling me about what he was intending on doing.
I tossed the phone back into my bag. “Not sure I have the time, it’s my first week at work but I’ll let you know.”
Giving him a quick hug and a casual goodbye—again, precedent had been set and I didn’t have time to explain why I was suddenly hands-off—I decided to go wait for my ride further on the street.
Thankfully, he didn’t follow, going back to his amazing genetically blessed family and gorgeous girlfriend.
Ugh, sure I wasn’t bitter.
Which just went to show, sometimes, the past was best left in the past.
GOING BACK TO MY APARTMENT was too depressing. I was wearing my red dress that did favorable things for my boobs and I still hadn’t worked out what I was going to tell my family. My phone had been vibrating silently in my handbag, the group chat no doubt responsible for the activity.
So instead I had Roger—my friendly Uber driver—take me to The Grove. A bar would have made more sense, but drinking on my own seemed too tragic. I wasn’t going to allow one little hiccup in the road to derail what was supposed to be the most awesome comeback of all time. So, I probably wasn’t going to be hanging out with Alex Larsson any time soon, that hadn’t been my initial plan anyway.
Nope, I was going to become a kickass attorney and live an amazing life in the city that I loved. And maybe it took me a little longer to make friends, who cared? What was important was quality, and enough time had passed so my last name no longer raised eyebrows.
It probably would have been easier to change it, but for some reason my mother didn’t. I never understood why, and didn’t want to ask questions about it to cause her any more hurt than she’d already suffered. Now I was kind of glad she hadn’t, made me feel defiant, fighting that little bit harder because of it.
I wandered around the fountain, deciding which store I was going to go into and pretend to be interested. Even if I wasn’t on a shoestring budget, and trying to ration out my savings until I started earning a paycheck, I wasn’t in the mood to shop.
But after fighting off bright-lipped ladies in Sephora—and assuring them I didn’t need any help—I decided it was safer just sitting on one of the park benches and talking to someone who cared. Ignoring the ridiculous thread in my text messages, I instead dialed Lisa.
“Hey,” Lisa huffed into the phone, sounding like she was out of breath.
“Hey yourself. Are you okay?”
Not that I could do much from almost three thousand miles away, but I could be moral support.
“Yeah, I bought a treadmill. I’m running,” she panted. “I stupidly told my boss I was a runner and he signed me up to the race. I might have oversold my ability.”
“The race?” I wondered if the law office didn’t sponsor some cheesy team-building Olympics like some other firms tended t
o do.
Nothing like a bunch of sweaty, half-clothed bodies, heavy breathing together to get everyone to be more professional. I was positive whoever started the craze was laughing their ass off at the irony.
“New York City Marathon, some of the other people from the office are doing it. I,” pant, pant. “Couldn’t say no.”
“Jesus, Lisa. A marathon? The most you’ve ever run is like three miles, and I was about to tell you my problems. Sounds to me like you’re the one who needs counseling.”
She laughed, causing her lungs to heave into a coughing fit. I heard the whirl of the treadmill stop as she struggled to catch her breath. “Nah, I have a few months to train. Think of how great my butt is going to look, and I’m the only newbie doing it. Even got a smile from one of the partners. If I die, it will totally be worth it. So talk to me, it must be bad if you’re calling me instead of Jackie.”
I cringed into the phone. “Why would you say that?”
“Come on, Maya, we both love her but it’s no secret I’m more sympathetic. So you tell me, I help you through your feelings and then we call Jackie to help plan the attack. I’m assuming this is about your date?”
“It wasn’t a date.” I was quick to answer.
“Well then, your time spent together with mutual consent at a place you both were present at the same time,” she said with a laugh.
“Well done on the redirect.”
“Thank you, now stop avoiding.”
I took a deep breath, my eyes roving over all the people who were ignoring me and had no interest in my conversation. “Okay, so I went. I wore the red dress.”
“Interesting wardrobe choice considering—”
“Yes, yes, I know. Sue me.” I cut her off knowing full well that my dress didn’t speak of the platonic get together I had alluded to. “So, he picked me up and I was looking forward to seeing him again. Sure, I was a little nervous about his family but he’d been so great, it put me at ease.”
“Go on,” Lisa urged, no doubt wanting to get to the good parts.
“And they were all there, looking fucking ridiculously gorgeous. It was fine, I mean, I’m not sure how it’s possible for so many good looking people to be assembled in one spot, even their wives were stunning. It was like I’d stumbled into a secret meeting for the beautiful people.”
She laughed, as did I. I might have been joking but I wasn’t exaggerating, no wonder I’d been in love with them most of my life.
“Anyway, it might have been an enjoyable experience if the girlfriend hadn’t shown up.”
“Girlfriend?”
“Oh yeah, not just any girlfriend either. She looked liked she belonged with them, all blond and blue eyed with willowy long limbs that don’t fit in regular size pants. Probably trolls alleyways looking for Dalmatian puppies so she can make a nice coat.”
“He’s dating Cruella De Vil?” She chuckled.
I sighed. “No, I’m just being catty.”
“I don’t remember you saying he had a girlfriend when you went to his house.”
“Funny that, I don’t remember it either. Who knows, maybe they have an open relationship? Or he just didn’t feel the need to bring it up when we were literally spewing out all our personal details? Or maybe he figured why bother even telling me? Not like he had an obligation.” I summoned the drama Gods, whispering in a hushed voice as I tried to smile. “I am no one.”
“Maya, you’re not no one. And regardless of what your relationship was, wasn’t or used to be, any regular man would mention his girlfriend. That’s on him. So what happened next?”
“He shooed her away and she left. He has her well trained that’s for sure, we had a Golden Retriever who wasn’t as obedient.” That wasn’t a lie. Even Ben struggled and it was his dog. Only way to get Buddy to do anything was with a very enthusiastic shove and some treats.
“Did you ask him about it?”
“No, I made an excuse and left like a coward.” I sighed, slightly disappointed in myself. “I just didn’t want to make a scene when everyone else in his family was being so nice to me.”
“Well, you should definitely ask. It’s suspect and should have come up.”
She was right about that, we’d talked about college, our time apart from each other, our new jobs, what our siblings were doing. Hell, I’m almost positive we spoke about how funny it was that everyone was married—some even with kids—and neither of us were. Or maybe I’d thought I’d mentioned it? Either way, the time we were talking about the relationships of other people would have been a perfect time for him to let me know, hey, I’m dating someone.
“Yeah, I’ll get to it eventually. At least I know now.” And saved myself from any further embarrassment.
I’d give myself a day, and then try to get back to being a regular friend to him. And whether he had a girlfriend, or even tells me about her, will have no consequence.
Or not.
There were like four million people in the city of Los Angeles, it wasn’t like I didn’t have other options.
A couple walked past during the beat of silence, both of them firmly entangled in each other’s arms, looking at each other with adoration. The guy obviously said something funny, the woman squealing in delight. It had been a really long time since a guy had made me feel like that.
Not that I wanted to squeal in delight but . . . I should have just gone to a damn bar.
“What was that?” It wasn’t just me who’d noticed the couple, Lisa obviously hearing them too.
“I’m at The Grove. I should go eat dinner and then head home. When you see Jackie, you have my permission to tell her everything. It’s probably easier if you do it.” Because no amount of recounting the story was going to make me feel any differently about it.
“Will do. Although I have to warn you, she’s probably going to want a debrief of her own.”
Lisa was probably right, but that interrogation would have to wait until I wasn’t so . . . I’m not even sure what I was feeling. Annoyed? Hurt? Just generally pissed off?
So he didn’t disclose his relationship, I hadn’t exactly asked either. And he hadn’t inquired about my relationship status. For all he knew I could have ten boyfriends I rotated through like underwear, one for each day of the week and extras for the weekends and holidays.
Why was I acting so crazy?
“Yep, I’ll expect her call.” Maybe she could work out why I was acting like a moron.
We ended the call and I walked to a pizza place hidden in the corner. It looked good and smelled even better and enjoyed my dinner as the sun set.
No questions.
No pressure.
And I felt myself take a big breath.
Sometimes the past was just better left in the past, I told myself as I enjoyed a second glass of wine. And while Alex Larsson had been an amazing part of my past, he didn’t have to be part of my future.
Alex called once and left me a voice message I hadn’t bothered to listen to. Not because I was avoiding him or anything. Pfft, I was just busy.
He also sent a text message I hadn’t bothered opening, again not for any other reason than I was slaving away unpacking, assembling the rest of my furniture and meticulously bringing order to my apartment. Granted it took me almost nine hours to put together two kitchen chairs—the instructions included were for a canoe and written in every language other than English—but eventually I got there. Not that I would be signing up to moonlight as a furniture assembler at IKEA, but I was pretty confident if I was dropped in the middle of a flat-pack jungle I’d survive. Oh, and I was also sure I could build a boat too if I ever found panels C and D.
It was reassuring that despite my blistered fingers and the obscene amount of cardboard boxes, I was finally—and completely—moved in.
That was it.
I was done.
My kitchen chair project hadn’t just distracted me from Alex and his gal pal, but also that I was about to start my new job. I wasn’t so much nervou
s as I was excited, Palmer and Loft something I’d only dreamt about with a healthy dose of cautious pragmatism. They only took Ivy League graduates, had a brutal recruiting system and expected a level of excellence that was almost unachievable.
Almost.
Lucky for them and for me, I had no problem taking a shitty hand and turning it into a fist full of aces. Which was why even though I should have been peeing my pants at the prospect of my first day, I couldn’t wait.
I’d barely slept—the constant buzz in the family group chat thread only half the reason for my lack of Z’s—waking up well before my alarm.
I finally caved last night and told them about my time with Alex and his family, but I’d escaped a full-blown inquisition by giving them just enough details for them to drop it. It had been fine, everyone was really nice and I was too busy to give them a play-by-play. Then I redirected their attention to the fact I was excited about my new job and how cool it was going to be. Their late night/early morning messages had been encouragements instead of questions.
So after assuring everyone I was fine, I used the extra time to take a leisurely shower, draining the hot water heater before I finally stepped out. Then it was dry off, a light breakfast, coffee, and finish getting ready.
The bus schedule was something I’d studied before I moved, checking out the times and connections so I knew exactly which bus and what other options there were so I wouldn’t be late. But for my first day I was going to splash out and pay for a ride. Who wanted to turn up a hot mess when you were new? Not me. Which was why I opened the Uber app on my phone, grabbed my handbag and walked downstairs to wait.
My finger hovered, just about to confirm my driver when I saw a sporty BMW parked out front. Not just any fancy BMW, it was a silver i8, the same kind of car Alex drove.
Huh.
And if I believed for a second that the exact make, model and color was just obscenely popular and it was a coincidence, then I wasn’t as smart as I gave myself credit for.