Sexy in the City

by Alexia Adams, Galen Rose, Samantha Anne, Carolann Camillo, Nicole Flockton, Iris Leach, Olivia Logan, Nancy Loyan, Stephanie Cage (epub)

  Reluctantly, she concluded there was only one possible answer.

  “No. I’ll be OK.”

  She swallowed hard and sniffed, and for a moment the tears stopped.

  “You sure?” Gently, almost imperceptibly, there was a touch on the back of her neck. Slowly, smoothly, like a parent soothing a fretful child, Redmond ran his fingers across her hair. That finished her off. The tears were back, drenching her hands and dripping into her lap in huge splashes like raindrops onto the pavement on a hot summer night.

  She couldn’t have said afterwards how long they sat like that: her sobbing through her hands and Redmond caressing her hair. There seemed to be two sensations going on at once in her mind. The indescribable sweetness of his touch and the terrible sadness of feeling that this pitying gesture took him further from her than ever. What would he think of her after this inexplicable behaviour? Had she thrown away her chances of love, as well as success in the all-important competition? The thought brought more tears and she pressed her hands hard into her eyes to try and dam the flow.

  “Lisa, what’s the matter? Tell me.”

  His voice was soft and urgent and so persuasive that for a moment she had the urge to just collapse into his arms and confess all.

  She shook her head. It was as much a statement to herself as to him. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, say a word until after the competition.

  She swallowed hard, blinked again, and managed finally to force out the words, “Nothing, really. I just don’t feel too good.”

  “Shall I take you home?” he asked, and now she managed to turn her tear-stained face upwards and meet his eyes.

  “You don’t need to come. I’ll be OK.” She sat upright abruptly, causing his hand to drop away from where it had been resting against her hair.

  The place where it had been felt cold and empty, and the tears threatened to start again. Lisa forced them back by focusing her mind ruthlessly on external things: the colour of the light falling through the patterned glass lampshades onto the tables; the complicated patterns of the wood-grain and the weave of the sofa fabric.

  There was a drink on the table: something cool and blue and enticing, like a swimming pool on a summer day. She vaguely remembered Luca putting it there.

  She stretched out a hand for the drink, then regretted it. If she was this emotional beforehand, what would she be like after a potent cocktail? But her hand was already on its way, and the cocktail gave her something to focus on other than Redmond’s bewildered expression and searching gaze. She kept her eyes on it as she clasped her fingers around the cool stem and lifted the glass to her lips.

  It tasted sweet and fresh and innocent, but the burning sensation in the back of her throat told her all she needed to know. It was dangerous, but then, weren’t all the best things? She took another sip and rolled it around her tongue, enjoying the explosion of flavour and the way it focused her attention. Suddenly the world seemed a far less worrying place.

  “I thought you were going home,” Redmond’s voice intruded.

  “I am. But it would be rude not to finish the drink now it’s here,” she made an excuse. She knew she should go, but somehow she seemed to have become rooted to the sofa. Just as long as Redmond knew it wasn’t him she was staying for.

  “I didn’t get the impression that being considered rude mattered that much to you.”

  Lisa couldn’t meet his eyes. She knew she’d behaved like an idiot, but could bring herself neither to apologise nor to explain.

  “Anyway, if you’re going to drink that, you should have something to eat. Otherwise you won’t be safe going home.”

  Lisa acquiesced, sipping the smooth blue drink as Redmond somehow, without appearing to move or speak, summoned a spread of bread and oil and olives and plump rusty red sun-dried tomatoes. Once it arrived, she remembered how hungry she was. Her mouth watered as she watched Redmond tear off a chunk of bread, dip it until it glistened with oil, and hold it out to her. He offered it towards her mouth but she put out a hand to take it instead.

  “You’ll get oily,” he pointed out, stopping her wrist with one hand as he deftly manoeuvred the bread to her lips.

  She gave in gracefully, for once, and took it from his fingers. As her lips closed around the moist bread, a drop of oil escaped, tickling her skin lightly as it ran down her chin. She ran her tongue across her lips to catch the dripping oil, savouring the warmth of the bread in her mouth and the rich, nutty flavour of the oil on her tongue.

  “You missed a bit,” Redmond said, sounding smug. Lisa rolled her eyes. She could never do anything right where he was concerned. She didn’t know why she didn’t just give up and go home. Admittedly, cold ham and cucumber sandwiches on stale bread at the bare kitchen table weren’t as appealing as a cosy little restaurant, fresh bread, olives, tomatoes, and cocktails, but at least she knew she wasn’t going to fall out with anyone over the rather tired contents of her fridge.

  “Stay there.” Before she could say anything, Redmond had leaned in closer, brushed a finger across the offending trail of oil, and brought it away gleaming. Now her skin was clean but the feel of his touch lingered. Crossly, she ran the back of her hand across her face, scrubbing it clean of the last remnants of oil and at the same time erasing the memory of his fingers gently brushing her skin.

  Redmond put his hand to his own mouth and licked off the oil from his fingertip. For a moment Lisa couldn’t help imagining that it was her hand to his lips, his tongue teasingly caressing the sensitive whorls at the tips of her fingers. She dragged her gaze away and reached for her drink. It worked pretty well as a distraction, but it was going down fast. She’d really better have something else to eat with it.

  Soon she was wolfing down the food while Redmond watched her with amused eyes.

  “So, are you staying for dinner?”

  She capitulated with a nod and a laugh.

  “You sure you can bear to stay for dinner with me? I’m nothing special.”

  Lisa’s words made her wince, especially as she recognised how untrue they were. How many other men would have taken her outburst in such good part? He was still here and still smiling, and even if the only reason for it was the arrogance which prevented him taking her criticisms seriously, that still made a difference. Not that she was going to say so. He was big-headed enough already.

  “No, but the food’s pretty special. If the appetisers are this good, I can’t wait to see what the main course is like.”

  Redmond laughed, a wide-mouthed, deep, genuine laugh. It made Lisa want to join in, but she kept her face serious and gazed at him with wide, injured eyes. She didn’t want to be laughed at, even if she knew she did deserve it, and even if a part of her was laughing too.

  “What are you laughing at?” she demanded.

  Redmond was saved from answering by the reappearance of Luca with menus and another two cocktails.

  “Did we order those?” Lisa whispered when Luca’s back was safely disappearing.

  “No, but Luca knows what I like.”

  “Maybe so, but how does he know what I like?” she asked, anger rising in her again. She didn’t like being treated like the standard companion. Just because Redmond always plied his women with cocktails didn’t mean she wanted them. She had the urge to ask for something different just to prove her point, but the truth was it would be a shame to waste the cocktail. They were very tasty. Maybe she’d have something different next time.

  “A lucky guess?” Redmond suggested, eyes gleaming. Lisa was beginning to suspect he was enjoying baiting her. “So, what do you fancy?” He leaned back in the deep sofa, legs folded, and opened the menu out, studying it ostentatiously, although Lisa suspected he didn’t need to.

  “What’s good here?”

  “I wouldn’t presume to suggest what you’d like,” Redmond said, adopting a
n injured tone in his turn.

  Lisa sighed. She’d get no peace with him in this mood. She went back to studying the menu herself, but before she’d read a third of the way down the page, Luca was back, hovering expectantly.

  “We haven’t decided yet,” Redmond said apologetically.

  Lisa cut him off.

  “I have,” she contradicted, enjoying his surprise as she picked a dish at random and placed her order.

  “The usual for me.” Redmond smiled as if sharing a joke with the waiter.

  Lisa was puzzled, but she wasn’t about to ask. She took another sip of the cocktail and curled up in the corner of the sofa, hands twined around the stem of the glass.

  Redmond turned towards her and looked her up and down.

  “You look very much at home here.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Just what I said. Does everything always have to mean something else?”

  “Not always. You sounded as if you did, though.”

  “What made you think that?”

  “What is this, twenty questions?”

  Lisa realised that, without intending to, they’d slipped into a game of questions. Now that Red had pointed it out, she wasn’t going to be the one to break the pattern. That would be too close to admitting defeat.

  “Why would I want to play twenty questions?”

  “Why wouldn’t you?”

  “Would it matter if I did?”

  “Does it make a difference if it matters to me?”

  “Why would it make a difference?”

  By now Lisa was laughing delightedly as she recalled the many long waits between rounds of competitions that they’d whiled away like this.

  “Can you think of a reason?”

  Redmond was laughing too, and when Luca returned to lead them to a table he gave them a benevolent, fatherly smile.

  “It is lovely to see the young lady smiling again, no?” he said, possibly to Redmond or possibly just to the world in general.

  “It is. Doesn’t she have a lovely smile?” Redmond slipped his arm proprietorially around her shoulders and Lisa, who wanted to squirm, was forced to continue smiling a fixed grin as Luca summoned his wife over to admire the lovely young couple.

  Mercifully, they soon bustled off to fill the table with an artistic spread, and then the “lovely young couple” were left to enjoy their meal.

  “What was that for?” Lisa hissed as soon as Luca and his wife were out of the way.

  “We’ve just had a row. Look like you’re enjoying making up, for goodness sake. Luca’s a good friend — we can trust him — but there are plenty of other people in here. I can’t put a gag on just because you’re in an awkward mood.”

  “Me? Awkward? I can’t believe that coming from the person who’s done nothing but patronise me, contradict me, and make fun of me all evening.”

  “Hey, that’s not fair. I’ve done nothing of the sort.”

  Lisa glared. That wasn’t how it looked to her.

  “I haven’t,” he protested. “If I did, I certainly didn’t mean to! Come on, be nice and let’s enjoy dinner now we’re here.”

  Lisa’s glare subsided fractionally but she wasn’t ready to forgive and forget entirely.

  She reached for her drink and Redmond leaned across the table and snared her hand.

  “What’s up with you tonight?” he said. “I’ve never seen you so prickly. Relax!”

  He began stroking her hand, gently, his fingers playing across the back of her hand, then the palms, then digging gently into the tense muscles of her fingers. It felt good, but even as Lisa’s body relaxed, her mind became more vigilant. Despite the loosening effect of the cocktail, she was on her guard. She didn’t want to feel too comfortable with Redmond’s new kind demeanour or with the casual physicality he’d begun displaying in public since they’d officially become “an item.” She was used to being independent and on her own, and she didn’t want that to change. What if she got used to being with Redmond, behaving like part of a couple, and then he took off again for America? Or, worse, brought his girl over here, so that she had to watch him do all the same things with someone else she’d come to expect him to do with her? That might possibly be her worst nightmare.

  She let her hand lie limply in his and looked at the glass of sparkling mineral water which Luca had placed on the table along with the main course. The bubbles rose slowly to the surface and disappeared with a pop.

  “Are you going to let go of my hand so I can eat?” Lisa asked.

  “You seem to be managing well enough,” Redmond pointed out. She’d managed to scoff most of the bread sticks and salad left-handed, but the stew still sat untouched.

  “I can’t eat stew with one hand.”

  “You can. You just hold the fork in one hand and shovel it in.”

  “Shovel it in? How elegant!” Lisa looked unconvinced and eventually Red released her hand with a sigh and returned to his own dinner.

  The silence stretched out between them until eventually, for something to say, Lisa asked how he knew of the restaurant.

  “I used to work here.”

  Whatever Lisa had expected, it wasn’t that. She couldn’t imagine the sophisticated man in front of her as a subservient waiter, although that seemed more likely than scrubbing dishes or slicing vegetables out back.

  “When?” He’d barely spent any time in this country, and as far as she knew he’d been at school, football, or dancing for the time he had been here.

  “My second year of sixth form I worked here on Friday and Saturday nights.”

  Lisa mentally calculated. That meant he’d been working here when they started dancing together. How come she’d never realised? Friday practice had been early, and when he’d rushed off afterwards she’s always assumed he was just going to the pub with his football mates. And Saturdays had been their one day off. So it was perfectly possible, but how strange that he’d never mentioned it.

  “What else don’t I know about you?” she asked flippantly.

  Redmond gave the impression of thinking hard. It erased the smile lines at the corners of his mouth and somehow made his blue-grey eyes seem darker and smokier. For a moment she thought he was about to reveal some deep secret, but then the sparkle came back and he grinned broadly.

  “I’m allergic to zucchini?”

  “Ha, gotcha! I knew that. You told me at the service station on the way back from the competition at Sheffield, except that you called them courgettes then.”

  “So I did! How on earth did you remember that?”

  Lisa shrugged. She could have said that she remembered a lot of silly things about him, that it was easier to remember a joke they’d laughed about ten years ago than what her boss had said to her yesterday. She said nothing.

  Redmond assembled an arrangement of salad and rice on his plate with great concentration and then set about demolishing it.

  Lisa gave up on the conversation and concentrated on scraping the last of the stew and rice off her plate. Then she served herself another helping, which made a nonsense of her intense concentration on clearing the plate.

  Redmond either didn’t notice, or felt he’d teased her enough for one day, because he said nothing.

  Finally Lisa admitted defeat and pushed her plate away.

  “I’m so full,” she remarked.

  “Not too full to dance, I hope,” he replied.

  “Dance? Why?” Lisa knew she looked blank and stupid, but she couldn’t imagine why he was asking about dancing. They’d more than done their practice for the day, and the only other place you could dance at this time of night was a nightclub. They’d always agreed that there was no point dancing at clubs because there was never room to move properly and they both detested the loudness and the thic
k haze of smoke you always had to walk through to get in and out of the building.

  “Shame to waste a good empty dance floor. That’s if your foot’s up to it now. Want to test it out?” Redmond gestured to something over her left shoulder. Lisa twisted around and saw for the first time that part of the restaurant had been left empty as a slightly raised dance floor. Behind the trailing vines there were even mirrors that would reflect the dancers, as well as making the small room look a little more spacious. Lisa was impressed with the design.

  “Care to dance?” Redmond stood up and held a hand out to her.

  As if on cue (and perhaps it was, because Luca seemed to notice everything) the light salsa beat that had been going on in the background turned up a notch. Lisa found her feet tapping, and she stood up, wobbling slightly.

  “Too much of the Blue Lagoon?”

  “No, it’s just my ankle settling down. It’s not too bad now I’ve got the support on, but it’s a bit wobbly,” Lisa said, though in truth she did think she’d drunk a bit too much to dance well. Not to mention eaten too much to dance energetically. She hoped the music would slow down a bit, because the song that was playing was very lively and as Redmond sent her onto the dance floor in front of him, she found it hard to keep up the pace.

  Her feet soon settled into the rhythm, though, and she showed off some fancy footwork, keeping her back to him and watching his movements in the mirror as he approached her. She was ready for his hand on her shoulder spinning her back towards him and into his waiting arm. This time when he caught her around the shoulders and swung her downwards, her body relaxed into him of its own accord. He smiled down at her for a split second and then she was being flung back upwards. She caught his hand to steady herself and then she was off again, flying with the music. It felt good to dance just for fun again after all the serious work they’d been doing. And now that she was moving again, it was easy to ignore the slight dull ache in her ankle.