Lyrical Lights

by Maria La Serra

  How could I say no to that smile? I forced myself to look at Gloria and wished I hadn’t. “I would love to, but I can’t …” I said. “Anyway, it’s true what people say about themselves. So if you say you’re not cocky, then I’ll just take your word for it.”

  “Well, I can’t be cockier than Jason,” Simon said, tilting his head in amusement.

  My eyes widened. “Oh, you just had to go there?”

  “Come, we’ll talk about your poor taste in men over a martini.”

  “Hey— I’m beginning not to like you.” My eyes zero in.

  “So, what did you mean by that—that I’m not what you imagined?” Simon crossed his arms.

  “Well, can I be honest with you?”

  “Sure,” he said, but his little laugh made me think otherwise.

  But before I could respond, Gloria stepped between us.

  “I hate to break up—whatever this is,” Gloria gestured with her hand in the air as if she were polishing us off. “Simon, you need to get your ass out there and have a serious tête-à-tête with the editor and chief of Nylon magazine. He’s the one hosting this party for you, remember?”

  But before Simon could reply, people swarmed around him, prying us apart, and the space between us only grew. I looked back to find Simon talking to someone, but his eyes never left mine. I only turned around when Gloria tugged on my arm. She wanted me to follow.

  “Mable, of all the men in the world, why Simon?” she asked.

  “What’s your problem? Look, Simon was kind enough to pay my tab, and then he gave me a ride over … that’s all that happened,” I squared my shoulders.

  “I thought you were meeting up with Jason?”

  “He never showed up.” I feigned a smile.

  “No surprise.” She half-rolled her eyes. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson, and that you forget about that idiot now.”

  “Yes, I’m done. I never want to see his face again.” Even if I said it out loud, it didn’t make it true. I knew I would have time before my departure, and if Jason should call somewhere in between me packing my things till the day I left town, I might be tempted to make one more mistake. Unless I had another suitable distraction.

  “Simon has to be off-limits, please.” She caught me throwing a glance his way. Well, there goes that idea.

  “Why?”

  “Because I said so.” Her eyes softened. “Look, Simon is a great guy, but—”

  “So if he’s that great, what’s the problem?”

  Gloria’s eyes focus on her wine glass. “He’s going through something … I’m not able to talk about it right now.”

  “Oh, I get it. You think I wouldn’t be a good match?” I asked.

  “Mable, you’re missing the point.”

  “This is so funny. You’re protecting him from me?”

  “We work together,” Gloria said, like I should get it.

  “I thought you said he’s not your boss?”

  She put her hand out to stop me from talking. “Right, but we have a great relationship. Enough that when he’s working on a new project, I’m the first person he calls.” She looked at me straight on. “What happens if you start fooling around?"

  “Nothing is going to happen, okay?” I said, but she kept on going.

  “He hasn’t been in a serious relationship in—like ever. He doesn’t even date.”

  “Who said I wanted a healthy, steady relationship?” I teased, taking her glass and proceeding to drink out of it.

  “I know you better than you think, Mable Harper. Everything starts off loose, and you act like you’re okay with it until you realize you want more.”

  “That’s not true. I never wanted more with Jason.” Shit. Was I smiling? I hated when she was right. It would never be enough for me—a half relationship—because it never was. The need for more, to have someone you can depend on, a reassurance of love. Isn’t the whole point in life to find someone to connect with? The only thing is, my connections had been tangled and mangled up like a set of Christmas lights, long forgotten in the attic for years. But just because the lights were in boxes didn’t mean they weren’t good anymore. Or were they?

  “What are you afraid will happen?” I asked.

  “I’m worried if things go south, who’s left picking up the pieces? How do you think my relationship with Simon will continue?” she asked.

  I wasn’t buying it. I knew for a fact she got plenty of jobs without Simon’s help. There was something she wasn’t mentioning. Or maybe Gloria was trying to protect me. Simon was an attractive man who took pictures of beautiful people all day. Who was to say he wasn’t some womanizer?

  “You’re selfish. Don’t you ever think of my happiness?” I was coy with her, but it only intensified her agitation.

  “I am thinking about your happiness,” Gloria sighed out of frustration.

  Then I realized that maybe she had feelings for him. “Oh … are you guys …”

  “What? Are you crazy? No! Never!” She adjusted her black-framed glasses. “I’m in a committed relationship with Tracy, remember?”

  “I know, but you also left Jerry for Tracy.” My eyebrows went up slightly. How weird would it be to be interested in someone your cousin also wanted? It wouldn’t be cool.

  “Jerry was a mistake, and you know it. Look, just because I don’t have romantic feelings for Simon, it doesn’t mean I’m giving you the green light.” Gloria looked past my shoulders, then diverted her eyes back to mine. “Simon is like the annoying brother I’m glad I never had. He comes with lots and lots of baggage.” Her eyes softened. “What I’m trying to tell you is—if he breaks my cousin’s heart, I won’t be able to work with him, because it will get nasty between us. Just trust me, okay?”

  “I get it. Don’t worry, all right? Soon I’m going to schlep my irresponsible ass back to Montreal, and I’ll be out of your hair.”

  “I didn’t say you were irresponsible. Shit, Mable, you always hear what you want.” She snapped her head back. “Wait, you’re going back home?”

  “Uh-huh. I’ve decided I’m not looking for another agent, so there is no point of me staying here.”

  “Oh, I don’t want you to go,” Her voice cracked.

  I shrugged. “It’s for the best. So you have nothing to worry about. Nothing will happen between Simon and I.” I paused, taking in her expression.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Because you’re smiling.”

  “I’m not.” I looked around the room, and my eyes found Simon. He was in the corner now, talking to an older couple. His eyes focused in my direction, amused by the fact that I was being scolded.

  Do you want me to rescue you? I thought he mouthed. I smiled, shaking my head discretely, so that Gloria wouldn’t pick up on it.

  “I swear … I’m not interested in Simon.” I can’t keep a damn straight face.

  She looked me over, relinquishing the air from her chest. “You’re impossible,” she said in a monotone voice.

  I placed my hand on my heart. “Okay. I, Mable Harper, swear on my cat’s head that I will never sleep with, or have anything to do with, Simon Rowe.”

  “You don’t even have a cat,” Gloria pointed out.

  “Well, not now, but you realize you might have cost me my last chance of happiness. Now I have to resort to a lifetime of being a spinster living with cats.”

  “So we’re good?”

  “Perfect,” I chirped.

  “Great. I’m glad we cleared that up. Now give me back my wine, crazy cat lady!”

  “Hey, I thought you’d be gone by now.”

  I looked up at Simon, who was pulling up a chair beside me.

  “I’m staying at Gloria’s place tonight, so I thought I’d wait,” I said, my face resting in my hand.

  He studied me for a moment. “You don’t look like you’re having fun.”

  “What gave you that idea?” I smiled wearily, gazing into the eyes of the man I was forbidden to ev
en look at. But I couldn’t help but like the way he stared, making me feel like I was the most interesting person in the room.

  Ugh, too bad I don’t break promises. Those damn cats!

  “Yeah, I’m not crazy about these parties either,” Simon said. I cast a watchful eye as he took a sip from his glass, then leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” Simon glanced at my empty hands, but I shook my head.

  “That’s ironic,” I quipped. I straightened myself, thinking about what he’d said.

  “What’s that?”

  “You don’t want to be here? But this is your party.” I hiked my eyebrows.

  “It’s all right, I guess, but I didn’t ask for any of this. I love what I do … to some degree,” His eyes didn’t meet mine, instead focusing on the black slate floor. “It’s the circus lights that I hate.”

  “Circus lights?” My smile grew with amusement.

  “You’re familiar?”

  “Um, I’m not sure. Unless you’re literally talking about circus lights, then I have no freaking idea.”

  “No, I’m talking about the bullshit that comes along with success. It’s a false illusion, you know? Making you believe you’re more important than you really are. At some point, if you live long enough under the lights, you become blinded to what reality is.”

  I can’t relate; I have none of those issues. I had been modeling since the age of sixteen, and I was nowhere close to finding any success. Simon had established himself as a young fashion photographer, and though we had never met before, I had seen his work on the spreads of high-profile magazines. His photographs were works of art, and his night should have been celebrated, a huge achievement for any artist in his place. So I was baffled, staring into a pair lapis lazuli eyes, to discover that there was desolation living inside those walls.

  “Tell me something. Do you wish to be unimportant, Simon?” His eyes didn’t meet mine, instead diverting back to the cluster of people in motion. I had sensed it from the moment I’d met Simon. I knew there was more to him, but it was his prerogative if he wanted to talk about it. Why would he? I was a stranger.

  “To be honest, I don’t deserve this kind of attention. I thought things would get easier, you know? Maybe after having a few of these.” He smirked, looking into his glass.

  I knew for a fact that, since we’d arrived at the Cellar Bar, Simon’s hands hadn’t been empty. It had seemed like he was just celebrating, but I couldn’t ignore the feeling that there was something off.

  “Is that why you were hiding at the Little Orange?”

  He gave me a knowing grin. “I intended on coming … eventually. But I got distracted by a beautiful blonde.” A big smile spread across his face.

  “Oh, you’re blaming me? You could have left anytime, you know?” Feeling flushed, I pushed my hair away, exposing the side of my face. His eyes trailed to my ear. My hearing aids were small and inconspicuous, but sitting this close I knew he saw them. If he asked, then I would have told him I had lost most of my hearing at the age of four, but he didn’t.

  “I couldn’t leave you,” he said, but something about his words moved me inside.

  “So when I mentioned the party, why didn’t you tell me who you were?”

  “And what? Save you from putting your foot in your mouth?” He gave a slight grin.

  “So funny,” I shot him a glance. “Anyhow, even if you’d told me, I’m not easily impressed.”

  “I know, that’s why I like you.”

  Oh.

  “What’s not to like about an Aries?” I said, trying to play it cool.

  This made him pause. “So am I.”

  “Come on, you’re not.”

  “You calling me a liar?” He chuckled.

  “No, but Aries are supposed to be optimistic.” I raised my eyebrows in amusement.

  “I am. Just maybe not Monday to Friday.”

  “Huh, now I know why you’re single.” I was assuming.

  “Oh, you’re funny too!” He bobbed his head, as if he was reconsidering my statement. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.” He took out his driver’s license and handed it over. I looked at his date of birth, a few weeks before mine and five years before me, which made him … twenty-six. A lot younger than I’d expected. I didn’t know what it was about him that made him seem more mature.

  “Well, it’s a good thing we’re not in a relationship—two Aries. There’s a good chance this would be a very intense love-hate relationship.”

  “I enjoy a little chaos now and then. It keeps life interesting, you know?” He flashed a mischievous grin. I don’t doubt it.

  “Have you done any modeling? Is that how you took up photography?” It came to mind and I asked.

  “No, I never modeled. I started off as a photojournalist, but my wife thought it was a job hazard, and so fashion was a safer bet.”

  “Oh … you’re married?” My heart tightened.

  “No, no … we’re no longer together.” There it was again, in his eyes … sadness. He’s too young to have been married and divorced; maybe this is the baggage Gloria spoke about. I diverted my eyes back to the plastic card. There was something else written on his driver’s license that piqued my interest.

  “Your middle name is Walter?” I glanced up, and he made a funny face. “What? You don’t like it?” I asked, handing back the laminated card.

  “Not really.”

  “I think it sounds sophisticated, like Sir Simon Walter Rowe of … wherever you’re from,” I said, feeling playful.

  “Perth,” he added. “No, I have no royal blood running through my veins. My granddad was Walter.”

  “You must have been close.”

  “Ah, yeah … nah—well, sort of, I guess. The man was all right; not very affectionate.”

  “You can’t choose your family,” I said. It’s a statement that resonates with me. I should know.

  “No, you can’t,” Simon reaffirmed.

  “Are you close to your family?”

  “Sure. I would like to believe I am. My mum can be overbearing, and my dad is a bit of a workaholic, but they’re both amazing. I haven’t seen them in a while, though. I hope this summer to make it back home,” Simon said.

  Now he had me thinking of my dad, whom I hadn’t seen since Christmas.

  “So why are you sitting in this corner?” He lifted his glass to the crowd in front of us. “You should be showing me your moves.”

  “If you haven’t noticed, Walter, I’m hiding,” I mused.

  “From what?”

  “The clowns and the jokers.” I flashed him a smile.

  “And me?” His brow furrowed. I straightened myself to get a good look at him.

  “No, with you I’m stuck right and center.”

  “Hey, isn’t that a song?” He sang a few lyrics to the tune he was thinking about, off-key.

  “Wow, you have an amazing … singing voice,” I said, trying to keep a straight face.

  “Liar!”

  “I’m serious—oh wait, I think I hear the dogs howling outside,” I said, and he burst into laughter. When I met his eyes, they softened. It was as if I could read his mind. I wished everyone around us would disappear.

  “I don’t mind being stuck anywhere with you,” he offered, and I was the first to break away from the gaze that was making me feel so vulnerable.

  “So, it’s quite an accomplishment to be recognized tonight. You must be ecstatic at least for that?”

  “Ah … well, a way to earn a crust, I guess. It has its perks. I get free breadsticks and I don’t have to pay any taxes.” He grinned.

  “Wow, lucky you. So that’s what happens when you win fashion photographer of the year?” I smiled at him.

  “Pretty much.” Simon leaned back in his chair. “Don’t get me wrong, I work long hours and I’m very passionate about my job, but I didn’t discover a cure for cancer or anything.”

  What was it about Simon tha
t made me think I’d never met someone like him? Why did he feel less deserving of something he had a right to? I looked across at the crowd, and after a quiet moment, he said, “You know, we could turn this night around.”

  Something mischievous flashed across his eyes.

  “We can? What do you suggest?” I shifted in my chair to get a better look, meeting Simon halfway.

  “Well, I have something in mind, but first I want to know … are you in?”

  His breath gave off the scent of whiskey, and the blood rushed through my veins.

  Usually, this kind of proposition wouldn’t catch me off guard, but coming from Simon, it felt almost surprising.

  “Wow, you’re straightforward, Simon.” My cheeks burned. From the moment I’d met him, something had told me he wasn’t the kind of guy who was up for an instant gratification. Now I wondered if I had been wrong. Yet here we were, in this environment, in the basement of a hotel where influences came into play. He was a man, I was a woman, and this undeniable raw attraction had spiraled between us, threading us together. There was nothing wrong with the laws of nature, but I knew how it worked. They say the faster you go, the more destructive the crash. The only issue: someone will be left broken, and it will most likely be me.

  It’s always me.

  “Look, I don’t want to act like some porcupine whose quills are up, but I like to get to know someone first before anything goes further.” It was not always my rule of thumb, but that night I decided it should be.

  “Oh, no,” he chuckled. “That’s not what I was implying,” He jolted back up in his chair. “You’ve got a dirty mind, Mable Harper … I was thinking about ditching this place and going to another bar.” He gave me a charismatic smile, but I knew better. No man would refuse a girl if she were willing.

  Men.

  “Gloria warned me to keep my distance from you.”

  We both knew where tonight would go if I left with him. I would misbehave in the arms of this stranger, but what good would it do? I’d been down this path before. A man just had to smile, and I would swear that he was different and I was down for the game until they got bored of me. Maybe I was only destined to meet people who made me feel unfulfilled, repeatedly. But I was also the only one that could change that. Gloria was right. Even though I pretended to be this carefree girl, there was one thing I always wanted, even if it was impossible to gain.