I turn back around and suddenly realize that Tom’s wife is offended by the woman’s dress. Glancing around, I do notice the other women are dressed less provocatively; most have on floor-length dresses. It is a work function, after all. But I can’t help but find Margaret’s reaction amusing. No one judges a woman as harshly as another woman. Not a single man in here will be offended by what another man is wearing or not wearing, doing or not doing. The look of aggravation she wears is so stupid that it irks me.
“Looks good to me,” I say, just to be an asshole.
Tom’s wife shoots me a disgusted eye roll. Tom seems to stifle a chuckle behind a cough. I think to myself that this moment might be the only memorable interaction of my night. I am wrong.
A booming laugh breaks through from behind me. The sound leaves me feeling rooted to the spot. I know that laugh.
When I turn around again, I see Scott’s date throwing her head back in laughter, long brown hair toppling over her shoulder and onto her back. When she turns to whisper something into Scott’s ear, I see her profile.
Three things happen in close succession. I get the sudden urge to hurl my glass against a wall—though I don’t. Instead, I let out a clearly audible, “You’re fucking kidding me.” And in reaction to this, Tom’s wife lets out a noise somewhere between a gasp and a hiccup.
The room is suddenly tinged in a scarlet sheen, my heart pounding in my ears, and I’m clutching my free hand so tightly my nails dig into my palms. I stride over to where Scott is standing.
Her being here is no coincidence and I don’t consider for a moment that it can be. I’m not going to wait around for her implosion. Whatever she has planned, I’m nipping it in the bud—no, I’m tearing it out by the crazy fucking roots. This needs to stop. This ends tonight.
“Excuse us a second, I need a word with your date,” I say to Scott, who is clearly confused as to what I’m talking about.
As I speak, his date turns to me and, in a voice that is dripping with sarcasm, says, “Leo? What are you doing here?”
I ignore Katy and stare at Scott, who looks at me not as his boss, but as some random guy in a bar trying to come up between him and his hook-up. I’m almost wishing Scott made a smart remark right now.
Try me. Please.
Something in my expression makes Scott swallow and divert his eyes. Katy puts a hand on his chest and says, “I’ll be right back, baby, Leo’s an old friend.”
I walk away from her, nearly bumping into people as I cut through the crowd. I don’t bother looking back to see if she follows me. I know she does. This is what she’s here for, after all, to make my life hell.
I barely clear the doors out onto the hall when I round on Katy. I don’t plan to ask her why she’s here, or what she wants. I don’t care. I can think of only four words I’m interested in telling her at the moment.
“You. Are. Fucking. Crazy.”
I don’t intend to punctuate the words with my hands but they just jut out in front of her face. The words erupt from my lips and hands at the same time. I’m not sure what she sees when she looks at me, but she suddenly seems scared. For the first time, Katy is actually worried of what I might do. The cocky attitude she sported a minute before lays forgotten. Her expression has fallen and lost its cynical edge. She bites her lip and I think she’s on the verge of tears.
She sighs and rubs her eyebrows. “I just wanted to piss you off.”
“Well, mission accomplished,” I spit out. “Katy, go take your date and get the fuck out of here. I don’t care where you go but if I have to look at you for another second—” I cut off because I don’t know how I intend to end that sentence. And I don’t know why Katy makes me this angry, I just know that she does. Her face, her being here, her big, sad eyes. All of it makes me furious. I shake my head at her and say, “You’ve got serious fucking issues.”
Her eyes widen with hurt, tears brimming in them. I turn away from her and walk back into the event hall.
I’m not even sure why I walk back in. I don’t even want to be here. This is the last place on the planet I want to be. The woman I don’t love is a vindictive child, going to any lengths to peel away at my nerves until I—what? Lose my temper and run head first into a wall? What else could I possibly do?
The woman I do love is here with another man and is either purposely avoiding me or is simply having such a good time she doesn’t bother to look for me.
Fuck. Bitter. Hell.
I am in hell. I need to get out of here.
XXXVII
Alexis
“You want me to get you a plate?” Jacob asks me as I sit down at our table. I’m already exhausted from all the small talk. How much longer should I stay before it would appropriate for me to sneak off back home?
I nod, distracted, then say, “Um. No, I can get it myself. Thanks.”
“Let me get it,” Jacob says, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “Let me take care of you.”
I can hear the dual meaning in his voice. I usually have a comeback to Jacob’s passes, but tonight I feel like a shell of myself. A nervous shell, and his words just intensify my nerves. I watch him walk away.
At first, I don’t admit to myself why I feel this nervous. The truth unwinds freely from my mind, for no reason other than to torture me. I didn’t anticipate how awkward I would feel at the prospect of seeing Leo tonight, considering Jacob is with me. It feels wrong in a way I can’t quite wrap my head around.
I know it’s ridiculous. Leo and I are nothing. Perhaps it was almost something, but it crumbled under the weight of itself pretty early on. And now we are nothing.
I look around at the crowd more for distraction than for actual interest. My eyes do a double take at a dark-haired young woman wearing a tiny crimson dress. She is standing close to Scott, one of the engineering interns. She looks gorgeous, but I can’t help but think that her dress is a little too provocative for the occasion. It clings to her toned body in a way that reminds me I haven’t gone running in weeks.
As the idle thought floats through my mind, I see Leo come up to Scott and the woman. Suddenly, seeing Leo causes something to click in my head. That woman—that’s Katy. I almost didn’t recognize her, but it’s definitely her.
Cold fingers seem to tighten over my gut.
I make no attempt at subtleties. I’m outright staring in their direction, not caring if anyone notices. Seeing her here brings an acidic taste to my tongue and a spark of anger that quickly dissipates to confusion when I notice Leo’s reaction. He is not happy to see her here, either. She flashes him a smile and even from a distance I can see it’s really a sneering. Leo looks livid; I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this angry. His face is twisted in lines of fury, narrowed eyes. He leads her away into the hall before turning around to look at her. Whatever he’s saying, it’s bad. She seems to flinch at his words. I cannot see her reaction, but I can see his. He’s sheet white with rage.
Did she show up here to spite him? A strange feeling washes over me from my head all the way down to the pit of my stomach, squirming there, threatening to spill back up and out of me. Did she also show up unannounced the day I ran into her at his apartment?
Of course, it all makes sense. I know her type. Clingy, desperate, obsessive. Showing up places with the sole purpose of getting a reaction out of him. That’s why she reacted the way she did to me, she was furious enough with Leo that she wanted to destroy anything between him and me. The hope that begins to cut through me takes me by surprise.
No. I shake my head, toppling the thoughts over and settling them back into place in the darkness. Even if this is true, it doesn’t change anything. It can’t change anything. Leo ended things with me. That night may or may not have sparked from a misunderstanding, but it was a small taste to how he is capable of hurting me. It doesn’t really matter if he meant to or not. When it comes to heartache, it’s not your intentions that matter. A heart breaks regardless; it breaks all the same. The fact that he was able to
knock me on my ass speaks volumes to how utterly exposed I allowed myself to be with him. It was a mistake on my part.
Vulnerability is weakness and I refuse to give into it. I blink and force myself to look away from them. I fight back the resentment I feel begin to pull my facial muscles tight. I get up to find Jacob, but spot him coming toward the table.
He hands me a plate. “I wasn’t sure what to get you. I got a little bit of everything.”
“Thank you,” I say. My voice sounds strange.
Jacob’s smile melts when he meets my eyes.
When we sit back down, he asks me in a lowered voice, “Do you want to get out of here?”
“I shouldn’t leave so soon,” I say, self-conscious that he can read my thoughts. I am thinking that I don’t want to leave; I don’t want Leo to think I ran off because of him. “Are you not having a good time?”
“Me? No—I am. It’s just, I can tell that you can’t be yourself here. You haven’t cracked a joke all night. And for God’s sake, woman, you’re drinking water.”
I look down at my glass. I could use some liquid courage, but when I’m surrounded by my employees, I’d much rather feel tense and alert than relaxed and unaware.
“Come on,” he says. “Let’s head over to Gaslamp and get a drink somewhere. You owe me a date.”
Our eyes meet and I find a comfort in his kind smile that I can’t put to words.
“I said no dates.”
“Fine. Let’s go on that non-date. Maybe I’ll get a non-kiss at the end of the night.” He gives me a one-sided grin at the way my eyes narrow. “I’m kidding. Sort of. Come on, no one will notice.”
People will notice me leaving. Will they care? I don’t know. Probably. But I suddenly find that I don’t care. Every second I’m here feels like I’m circling the drain and losing my ability to hold onto the carefree veneer I’ve plastered on for the sake of everyone around me.
I need to get out of here. I need fresh air. Meeting Jacob’s eyes, I try to smile as I say, “Okay, maybe I can slip away for a little while. Tell you what, go wait for me down in the lobby. I’ll mingle for a few more minutes and I’ll have an excuse to go find you.”
When I turn the corner, the elevator door is halfway shut. I rush to stick my arm in between them and they swing open again. Leo is standing inside. He looks harmless, leaning on the back wall and looking up at me politely. Seeing him causes my heartbeat to slip from its normal rhythm.
I consider turning away, but my pride won’t let me. He can’t see the effect he has on me, the way my knees seem to falter under me with unease. I hesitate for too long, the doors start to close and I have to reach in to stop them again.
“Alexis, I’m not going to bite you,” he says in a low, lifeless voice.
I’m not sure about that. He’s still visibly agitated from his argument with that girl. But I try to look unconcerned as I walk in.
“I know,” I say without looking at him. I press the button for the lobby even though it’s already lit. The elevator starts moving down. Crossing my arms in front of me, I keep my eyes on the closed doors. I can almost feel his eyes taking me in, sweeping my figure from behind. I hate he doesn’t have to use his imagination to know what’s underneath my dress. I hate how I can almost feel the physical caress of his perusal.
“Alexis.” His voice is suddenly soft and it pulls on my insides.
I shut my eyes and ignore him.
“Can we talk?”
“No,” I say.
I hear him take a breath, and then he says, “So that guy shows up a lot, huh? Hospitals, parties.”
It’s not really a question, so I don’t answer him. I could say the same about that Katy girl, but I don’t want him to even know I’ve seen her. The air around him is strained under his obvious bad mood and I sense he’s ready to snap at me at any moment.
His voice drops into a mumble, but I know he intends for me to hear, “You don’t waste any time.”
I shouldn’t take the bait, but I do. I turn to him.
“You have no clue what you’re talking about,” I say, setting my jaw. “And you have no right to comment on my life.”
The elevator comes to a stop, too soon and too sudden. I feel a jolt in my stomach, but the doors open at the third floor and we get a view of the couple standing just outside, waiting to see if one of us is getting out. Without hesitating further, I walk past the couple and out into the hall.
“Alexis.” I hear Leo following behind me. “Where are you going? This isn’t the lobby.”
“Get back in the elevator, Leo.”
When I glimpse back, I see the elevator doors closing again and Leo following behind me.
“Where are you going?” he asks again.
I don’t answer. I’m not sure where I’m going. I refuse to be stuck in an elevator with him for a second longer. I walk down the hall, hoping there is a stairwell there at the end. Hoping it isn’t another dead end like at the hospital. I think of how ridiculous it is that I feel compelled to literally run away from him.
He is beside me now. I can’t walk any faster in these damn heels.
“Alexis, you’re going to walk down three flights of stairs in those heels, just to avoid me? What are you scared of?”
I stare forward and keep up my pace, feeling the material of my shoes rubbing uncomfortably on the skin of my heels.
“Come on,” he says. “Stop. Talk to me for a second. Please?”
“I have nothing to say to you.”
Why am I so angry with him? Is it because he dumped me? Because I want him back? Or because I don’t? I’m not sure, but anger helps me feel put together. I wasn’t ready for this, to be alone with him, for him to try to drag me into a discussion about us and what happened.
He continues to walk beside me. I see, to my relief, there is indeed an entrance to a stairwell at the end of the hall. We’re almost to the end.
“Are you going to follow me the whole way to the lobby?” I ask as casually as I can manage and without looking at him. I’m irritated, but I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing it.
“Well, yeah,” he says, “I’ve got to make sure you don’t break your neck going down the stairs, all because you can’t stand the thought of being alone with me.”
I’m not sure if I’m imagining it, but his tone sounds wounded. Why is he hurt? Am I supposed to fawn over him because he regrets his decision to end things? Well, too bad. The damage is done and I refuse to move backward.
We reach the door at the same time and he tries to open it for me. I push his hand out of the way. “I’ve got it,” I snap.
I walk onto the stairwell landing and feel him right behind me. I’m aware of how stupid it was for me to leave the elevator. Now we are even more alone than ever. I turn to look at him. I want to say something cruel to him, something that will cut through his confident demeanor and give him the message that I want to be left alone. That he doesn’t have the right to chase after me. He doesn’t have a right to look at me the way he does, like he can take me at any moment, like he knows I secretly want him to.
I open my mouth to speak, but feel my breath hitch in my chest instead. Crap. Crap. No. I turn around again so he can’t see my face. I don’t cry. I never cry. Why am I so quick to cry lately?
I’m not sure if he knows, but he stands very still behind me and his voice drops to a delicate whisper.
“Alexis, are you okay?”
I don’t move; I don’t even try to go down the stairs. Instead, my hand closes over the railing and I try to control my intake of breath so it doesn’t reveal a struggle. I’m staring at the steps, but his voice is so vivid and elicits memories of our intimate knowledge of each other.
“There’s something I need you to know,” he says, in the voice he uses when we are alone.
I wait, feeling the hairs on my arms prickling awake. I don’t want to know, but I do. I want to run down the stairs, but I don’t. I’m on the brink of abandonment and indu
lgence, teetering over the edge where one plummets into the next. I don’t want to hear what he has to say, but I need to.
I close my eyes, and see his features in my mind. It’s ridiculous because he’s right behind me, but I can’t bring myself to turn around.
He lays his hand on my shoulder. “Can you look at me, please?”
I take a deep breath and pull on something that isn’t even tangible but gives me the courage to turn around. His eyes bask in mine and my legs turn to rubber. I swallow and cross my arms, trying to remember what I’m supposed to be feeling. Resistance? Tenacity? Fortitude? Weakness in my limbs? My heartbeat in my ears? Knots tying my stomach?
His eyes take me in carefully, my hair, my eyes, my lips, back to my eyes, my lips again.
I don’t know if he’s planning to kiss me; I don’t know if I’m planning to stop him.
“Alexis,” he says before falling silent again. I can almost feel him mustering up strength and I get a jarring realization. Seeing me is as difficult for him as seeing him is for me. “I need you to know that I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it when I said I didn’t want to be with you. Because I do. I haven’t given up on us. Not for a minute. I can’t. I can’t because I’m in love with you.”
I feel my eyes widen a notch, but am otherwise rooted to the spot. He swallows and takes a breath before continuing, “I want to give you this.”
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