Why did it all have to be so confusing? Why couldn't people just be with whomever they wanted without laws and rules and restrictions? Did all of society's control over relationships make people happier, or was it maybe better for us all just to follow our hearts?
*****
I arrived at the restaurant and slipped inside to see Kegan, wearing a dark blue t-shirt that just reached the waistband of his black jeans, standing on a chair surrounded by his workers. So I wouldn't interrupt, I stayed just inside the door while he reminded them of a few deadlines and some tasks that needed to be finished. Someone asked a question, and he answered and then said, "Okay, back to work."
When he climbed down from his chair, he was immediately engaged in conversation by a pretty redhead. They walked to the mirrors behind the bar and examined something I couldn't see with great interest, then they exchanged a few words and she nodded and left.
He stood still for a second, as if waiting to see if anyone else needed to talk to him, then turned and walked straight toward me. I watched him approach, a smile growing on his face, and felt an answering smile curving my lips.
"How're you doing?" His voice was casual, but his eyes told a different story.
I felt the thrill of being alive and healthy race through me, and I grinned at him. "I'm just great, and you? It's a gorgeous day, isn't it?"
"Gorgeous," he agreed. "And I'm fine too. Did you get my text message?"
"I did." I glanced around to make sure nobody was listening, then added, "I should be thanking you, not the other way around."
He shook his head. "I disagree, and the customer's always right so don't even think about thanking me. Now, you didn't send me a message, so you don't have a coffee. Want me to go get you one?"
"No, I'm fine. Thank you, though," I said, emphasizing the 'thank you'.
He slapped me lightly on the arm. "What did I say about that? Okay, then, ready to pick some artwork?"
True to his word, Kegan had gone through the catalogue and circled about thirty pieces he liked. We sat at his desk, our shoulders touching companionably as we studied the pages together, and eventually got it narrowed down to the six we needed.
I stood up to get ready to go back to the office and place the orders. Kegan stood up too, and stretched, pressing his chest forward and arching his back. His t-shirt rose, exposing a inch or so of his stomach, dark-tanned and muscled. He'd always been proud of those abs, with good reason, and I'd loved to brush my fingers over them and feel the muscles contract at my touch. The sight of his skin hit me like a thunderbolt.
He saw me looking, and pulled his shirt down as our eyes locked. There was no doubt in my mind he was thinking the same thing I was, and embarrassment mixed with remembered passion flooded me, dizzying me. He took a step toward me, his eyes full of something I couldn't let myself recognize, and I took two steps back. "I think we're done here, right?" I said, struggling to keep my voice steady.
He nodded, his eyes not leaving mine. We stared at each other for a moment, and then he looked down at his desk and picked up the catalogue. "You can give this back to Lou, I guess. Unless you'd rather I do it?" I could tell from the slight shake in his voice that he'd felt the same jolting connection. Was it as confusing to him as it was to me?
"No, that's fine," I said. He held the catalogue out to me, and I took it, being careful not to let my hand touch his.
"So, okay then," I said, putting the catalogue and the list of prints into my bag. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow. I think Lou's pretty much ready to show you the final plans. Afternoon, if that's okay?"
"Sure. Have a good day."
"You too," I said, turning and running headlong into one of his workers, who grabbed my arms to steady me.
"Sorry about that," he said, releasing me and giving me a friendly smile. "I guess I should walk louder."
I smiled back, and was about to make my escape when I saw a tattoo on the worker's upper arm, just below his t-shirt sleeve, of tiny tiger and lion heads all snarling at each other.
"Oh, I like your tattoo," I said, and his face lit up.
"Thanks. I didn't know exactly what I wanted when I went in there, just something with wild cats, but they were awesome."
"Where'd you get it done?"
"Neon. They're down on Queen Street, just past Bathurst."
I nodded. "I've actually been there."
"Cool," the worker said, then he added, "What did you get done?"
"Yeah, what did you get done?" Kegan chimed in.
"Nothing," I said, then surprised myself by adding, "Not yet, anyhow."
The worker grinned. "Well, when you do, go back there. They're fabulous."
I smiled, and he handed Kegan a few receipts and left.
Kegan raised his eyebrows at me. "Not yet?"
"I did see a polar bear one I liked, but..." I shrugged. "I just don't think I'm the type."
"You're the type," he said without any hesitation.
Surprised, and pleased that at least somebody thought I was, I said, "Why?"
"You like colors and designs and all that sort of thing," he said, waving a hand at the walls around us. "Look at those bathroom tiles you chose."
The bathrooms had turned out perfectly, and Lou had been impressed by my combination of colors. "Yeah, but that's different."
"How? It's still designs and colors."
"Not many colors in a polar bear," I said, and we laughed.
"You'll find a way," he said, his voice suddenly serious. "I have faith in you." Before I could think of an answer to this, he added, "Promise you'll show me when it's done," and winked at me.
I laughed. "If I get one, I'll think about it."
"Good enough," he said. "Bye, Candy."
Safely out on the street, I made my meandering way back to the office. The sun was warm but not overpowering, and I just couldn't bring myself to rush. Besides, I had to think.
I hadn't reacted to Kegan like that once at Wonderland, or when he'd been hugging me, or when we'd been sitting together with the catalogue, so why had the sight of his stomach shaken me so badly? I was sure he'd felt it too; what did that mean? What should I do about it?
I briefly considered talking to Larissa, but couldn't stop myself laughing out loud at the idea. She'd kill me, and then kill Kegan, and then kill us again for good measure, all before I even finished explaining.
Tasha would listen, but she was always a "live for the moment" kind of girl. She'd probably just tell me to have a little fling with Kegan and get it out of my system. Which wouldn't be much help either.
I needed support that I carried around with me. All the time. Embedded in me.
What would a polar bear do?
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Congrats!
I'm glad your sunburn's getting better. You must have a good doctor there.
I don't know if I want to go to Wonderland after all, but we should definitely do something when you get back. We could always go out for dinner, but I know you don't enjoy that so much. A movie, maybe, if there's one we both like.
Take care of yourself.
C
Thursday, August 11th
"Good morning, Neon Tattoos and Piercings, Amber speaking."
"Umm, hi. I want to make an appointment. Or is that how this works? Do I make an appointment, or do I..."
"Well, we usually make appointments for tattoos. Piercings not so much, but we can. What did you want done?"
I cast a furtive glance around the break room. Empty. I admitted, "A tattoo."
"Any one in particular?"
I had to giggle. "Yes, of course. I want a polar bear on an ice floe looking up at a star."
"Oh, you were in last week, weren't you? That's so cool that you're going for it."
I hoped she'd still think it was cool if I passed out in the middle of the process.
"When did you want to get it done?"
"I was hoping for tonight after
work."
"Sorry, we're totally booked. We could do tomorrow, though. Would six or so do you?"
"Six would be perfect. Do I need to do anything beforehand?"
"Yep, make sure you have something to eat before you show up. We don't need you fainting on us." She chuckled.
"I'll do my best," I promised, hoping she couldn't hear my nervousness.
I hung up the phone and sat down in front of a box of doughnuts, chose a maple-dipped one and took a bite. I wrinkled my nose: stale. I decided not to bother eating it.
I was getting a tattoo. What would my mother say? When I'd had a second piercing in my right ear, she'd acted as though I'd shaved my head and dyed my eyebrows green. I'd finally given up and taken the piercing out just to make her stop complaining.
Not a solution that would work with a tattoo, though. Not telling her, though, that would work. If I put it on my lower back the way Amber had suggested, I'd be able to hide it from just about everyone.
Not from Ian, though. What would he think? We had friends with tattoos, of course, but we'd never discussed whether either of us wanted one. I kind of wanted to surprise him with it, but not if it was going to upset him. On the other hand, the idea of not getting it was beginning to upset me. I loved polar bears and always would, so why not?
I could definitely hide it from Kegan. But did I want to? He was the only one who saw me as the tattoo type, and I liked that he did, but was I really going to pull up the back of my shirt and show it to him?
No, of course not. I couldn't do something like that at work, and I wouldn't be seeing Kegan anywhere else. Wonderland had been a one-off, an aberration. We were back to being professional, and that was where we had to stay.
I decided to get back to work, and reached for the stale doughnut to throw it away, only to realize that I'd actually eaten the whole thing while thinking about my mother and the tattoo. I sighed. If only agonizing over issues burned calories. I picked up a fresh coffee and headed back to my desk.
My in-box seemed to have exploded during my few minutes away. I flipped through the new additions and piled them fairly neatly on the floor under my desk. There, organized. I didn't have time to do anything with them; my most important task right now was to finalize the research for Kegan's restaurant and then give Lou the last pieces.
The office was louder than usual and I couldn't seem to concentrate, so I went for my secret weapon: the Meat Loaf CD I only listened to when I had to get down to work. It never failed me. I barely heard it as it played but somehow the sounds focused my attention.
In another success for Meat Loaf, I finished the research just as the CD wrapped around to the first song. As always, the urge to immediately print out my results and give them to Lou, then never do research again as long as I lived, was very strong, but I resisted, instead taking a few minutes to recheck my newly acquired facts. When I was sure I had everything right, I sent it to the printer and leaned back in my chair for a brief rest while the printer did its slow work.
I would have to see Kegan after lunch, and I didn't think I was ready. We'd been like best friends at Wonderland, but what I'd felt yesterday hadn't been just friends. The heat that seeing his slightly more private skin had sent through me... I hadn't felt it in a long time.
Tigger's laugh drew my attention to the computer, and I answered an email from one of our other clients while trying to remember when exactly I had last felt that way, felt such strong desire that I couldn't think of anything else.
Memories of my honeymoon swept over me and I felt my cheeks grow warm. I'd definitely felt it then. Since then? For sure, not since Ian's parents had died. When we'd had sex since then, somehow I'd felt even more distant from him instead of closer, and the lack of connection didn't do wonders for my libido.
The printer spat out the last page, and I pushed the thoughts out of my head, gave myself a quick coat of lip gloss, and took the printout to Lou's office.
"Perfect timing, I was just getting ready to finish Kegan's plans. Take a seat."
I did, and waited as he flipped through the pages.
"This all fits in fine with what I'd planned to do," he said, dropping the printout onto his desk. "It's... nearly eleven now. Can you find out if Kegan can see us at two? If he can, come see me at one and I'll make sure you're ready to present it."
"Sure," I said, feeling my heart give a little lurch at the thought of seeing Kegan. Nerves about presenting the plan. Naturally.
*****
At two, after our practice run, Lou and I arrived at Steel. Kegan, his silver grey dress shirt and black pants a departure from his more relaxed outfits of the last few days, met us at the door and shook hands with Lou before turning to me.
"Nice to see you," he said, holding out his hand. I took it and we shook hands formally. After everything that had passed between us in the last week, I had to struggle not to laugh out loud. As Lou moved on into the restaurant, Kegan shot me a wink before following him.
Kegan and Lou stood on either side of me while I presented the plans. I felt nervous at first, but it passed quickly as I got into the details. Lou didn't say much, commenting only when Kegan asked about why he'd made certain design decisions, leaving me to do the presentation truly on my own.
Kegan didn't take it easy on me, insisting that I go through every detail and grilling me on my research findings, but at last, after nearly two hours, I reached the final points, and then it was finished.
"Do you have any questions?"
Kegan shook his head slowly, looking down at the beautifully detailed design Lou'd drawn for the private dining room Kegan had requested at the last minute. "I don't know how I could. You've covered absolutely everything."
He looked past me at Lou. "Thank you for this." A smile grew on his face as he added, "It's like you went into my head and pulled out exactly what I wanted."
Lou smiled back. "That's what I like to hear. Thank Candice, though; without her research I wouldn't have been able to do it."
"She did a great job," Kegan agreed, then turned to me. "You really did. Thank you."
I couldn't keep a grin from my face. "You're welcome."
"You're lucky to have her," Kegan said to Lou.
Lou gave me a proud smile. "I know. If she keeps this up, she'll have my job some day. Some day soon."
I smiled back, but felt a strangely sick feeling in my chest. Did I even want his job? I didn't want to be an assistant forever, that was for sure. But I couldn't be a designer. I had no training.
Lou glanced at his watch. "I have a meeting at another client's site ten minutes ago. Candice, will you be in the office tomorrow?"
I nodded, and Lou shook hands with Kegan again and was gone.
Once we were alone, Kegan turned to me and held out his hand. "Congratulations." His handshake was just as professional as the first one had been, but the warmth in his eyes didn't fit with it. "We have to go out for dinner to celebrate. Tomorrow night?"
I remembered how I'd felt with him yesterday, and I knew I shouldn't go. Plus, I had an appointment with some needles. "I can't." Before I knew it was coming, I added, "What about tonight?"
He shook his head. "Big meeting with the lawyers in an hour. It'll go right through dinner. Trust me, I'd far rather go out with you. I'm away all weekend, so that's no good. How's Monday night?"
I shouldn't go.
"Monday is fine."
He smiled. "Perfect. But I desperately need a coffee first. Actually, I need a stiff drink, but coffee will have to do. Can you spare me a few minutes so I don't fall asleep with the lawyers?"
We laughed, and I said, "Well, I guess so. For such a good cause."
"It is a good cause," he said as I packed the plans away carefully in their file folder. "Do you know what those guys charge an hour? If I'm going to pay that much to sleep with some--"
He cut himself off, looking sheepish, and I laughed. "Are you suggesting you'd want someone of, say, the oldest profession rather than a lawyer?"
"Candy, my goodness," he said, taking the folder from my hand and stowing it in his briefcase. "I have no idea what you mean."
"Of course not," I said. "Neither do I."
He grinned at me, and we headed out to the coffee shop together, where he insisted on buying me a drink and snack.
Standing behind me in line, he said into my ear, "I meant what I said to Lou. You did such a good job. I really am impressed."
I stared straight ahead, feeling my cheeks flaming and my mouth pulling into a grin. "Thanks."
"No need to thank me, just telling the truth," he said, this time so close I could feel his breath stirring my hair. A shiver sped through me and I took a quick step forward. I was both glad and sorry when he didn't follow me.
Once we'd found a table and settled down, Kegan said, "That thing I said, about sleeping with the lawyers... that's such a George thing to say."
I looked up from the cookie he'd bought me. "He was a funny guy, I bet."
Kegan nodded. He took a sip of his coffee then said, "Can I tell you about him? I think you'd have liked him, and I know he'd have liked you." He chuckled. "I'd have had to fight him for you."
I blushed. "Oh, come on."
"I mean it," he said. "George loved sparky little brunettes."
This was so far from my own image of myself that I couldn't think of anything to say. No matter, Kegan had plenty, and I was soon crying laughing at the stories of their antics in law school, especially the pranks they'd pulled on their fellow students and professors.
"You can't have wrapped everything in his office in bubble wrap, that's just not--"
"Right down to the pen refills," he said, laughing along with me. "His secretary told us later it took him three hours to fix it. Which isn't bad, since we spent all night doing it."
"And you still passed his class?"
Laughing even harder, he said, "I had the top mark and George was second. He said he admired our determination and attention to detail."
Life, Love, and a Polar Bear Tattoo Page 12