by L.H. Cosway
A sniffle from her. “Of course I know it. I’m not proud of my behaviour. I’ve been seeing a therapist and we’re working through my issues. I can get back to my old self for you, James. I promise.”
“That’s good. I’m glad to hear you’re talking to someone, but we’re not getting back together. I can’t marry you. I don’t love you anymore. I’m sorry.”
“How can you possibly know that? Like you said, your mum passed away. You’re not thinking straight.”
“I am thinking straight.” He almost sounded apologetic now. “I’ve never been clearer. Loss has that effect.”
“So what? You want to be some bachelor out on the town all of a sudden?” she questioned angrily. “You’ve never been that person, James. You love being in a relationship. It’s who you are.”
“This isn’t about whether or not I like being in a relationship. I simply don’t want to be in a relationship with you, Diana. Not anymore,” he said and I winced. That definitely had to have stung.
“Oh, for God’s sake. I’m sorry I hit you all those times, okay? My temper got the better of me, but it’s not like I hurt you.”
“You didn’t hurt me physically,” James corrected, and I felt proud of him for pointing that out.
“It wasn’t me. I didn’t mean it. Like I said, I have anger issues, but I’m in therapy now. I can get better.”
“And I believe you, but that doesn’t change the fact that we’re over,” James said, his exhaustion evident in his voice.
There was a long silence and I grew nervous. Then finally Diana broke it. “Is it that little assistant of yours? Is she what this is all about?”
My heart felt like it stopped beating.
“This has nothing to do with Michaela,” James replied.
“Sure, it doesn’t,” Diana scoffed. “Do you think I’m blind? I see how she looks at you. I’ve seen it for months, all doe-eyed and hero-worshipping. Is that what you want? You want me to act all innocent and tell you what a big, strong, handsome man you are?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
Diana laughed cruelly. “I see how you look at her, too, you know. You’re such a fucking cliché, lusting after your pretty, young assistant. You men are such slaves to your nature. You’re taken in by the whole clueless, innocent little mouse act. Some caveman instinct makes you think you have to take care of women like that. I thought you were more evolved, but obviously not.”
“You’re wrong,” James ground out. He sounded pissed.
I heard the click of Diana’s heels and pictured her stepping close to him. “I’m not an unreasonable woman. I’m willing to make a compromise.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about me letting you go and have fun with your little plaything. Then when you’re finally done with her, you can come back to me and we’ll get married.”
“The fact that you think I’d be willing to use someone like that makes me feel like you never really knew me at all. Now please leave.”
“Look, just hear me out for a second…” Diana said softly.
Then the worst sound possible: a door closing. I could no longer hear them, and I began to panic. Did James’ believe her about my crush? Was she trying to convince him to agree to her twisted little idea? And what did she mean about how James lusted after me?
A few minutes later, the door re-opened, and I heard Diana leaving. I quickly slipped inside my bedroom, hopped onto the bed, slid on my headphones, and acted like I’d been playing Greenforest this whole time. My thoughts were going a mile a minute as I replayed everything I heard.
I see how you look at her, too, you know.
Was James attracted to me? The idea sent butterflies flitting around inside my stomach. Then I thought of how Diana had basically offered him a free run to go be with whoever he wanted, so long as he came back to her when he was done. I felt sick just thinking about it.
Did she really think James would agree to something like that? And did she think I’d allow myself to basically be used? I might have strong feelings for him, but that didn’t mean I’d sacrifice my self-respect.
A few minutes later, there was a knock on my bedroom door.
“Come in,” I called.
James stepped into the room, his expression wary. I didn’t doubt he’d refused Diana’s offer. James wasn’t that sort of person. I pulled off the headset, and he seemed relieved to see I’d been wearing headphones.
“Tough conversation?” I asked, shooting him a commiserating look
He ran a hand over his close-cropped hair. “Something like that.”
“Want to talk about it?”
He gave a joyless laugh. “Not at all.” A silence fell before he gestured to my laptop. “Are you logged into the game?”
“Yes. Want to come help me find the Witch of Thorny Glen? There’s a spell she casts that can get you into the Secret Chamber of Untold Treasures.”
A small, affectionate smile graced his lips. “Do you know what? That sounds like exactly what I need right now.”
He left and I couldn’t help grinning to myself. I liked being able to take some of his stress away. I heard a ping and brought my attention to my laptop screen.
James_the_Conquerer has logged in.
James_the_Conquerer: Okay, so how do we find this witch?
Lady_M: Follow me. I think I know where she might be hiding.
It was scary to admit, but for the next few hours as we sat in separate rooms and I led him on a virtual adventure, it was the happiest I’d been in quite some time.
Eighteen
Michaela
The airline lost our luggage.
James, Paul, and I stood beside the baggage carousel at JFK, slowly losing hope that our bags would show up. Paul had travelled light, bringing only a carry-on suitcase, which was smart. James and I, however, had checked ours and now it seemed they’d disappeared into the great blue yonder. Or wherever our airline managed to misplace them.
When we finally gave up and went over to the baggage desk, we were informed that our suitcases had been put on the wrong flight and would be forwarded to our Manhattan hotel in the next day or two.
“We’ll have time to go and buy some clothes to tide us over,” James said.
“Maybe we could go to Macy’s in Herald Square?” I suggested tentatively. It was one of the most famous department stores in the world, especially at Christmastime.
“Sounds like we have a Miracle on 34th Street fan with us,” Paul teased.
“They decorate all the display windows for Christmas too.” I’d never been to New York and I was excited to take in as many of the sights as I could while I was here. We were staying near Central Park so that was a given, and I wanted to see the Empire State Building, the Brooklyn Bridge, and perhaps even visit the Met if I had enough time.
“Macy’s please,” James instructed our taxi driver after we dropped Paul at our hotel.
As we made our way slowly down the traffic on Fifth Avenue, I stared out the window, catching a quick glimpse of the huge Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center, and marvelling at all the tall buildings going by.
And yes, okay, maybe I was trying to distract myself from the fact that I’d be spending several days with James here. Ever since Diana showed up at the house, we hadn’t really spoken much. We interacted lots on Greenforest, sure, but it wasn’t the same as talking in person. I also couldn’t stop thinking about what Diana had said about me, how she’d noticed my crush, and how she suspected James had a crush on me, too. I even had brief moments where I considered what it would be like (in an imaginary world, of course) if James said yes to her offer.
If I could never truly be with him, would I be willing to accept a few weeks or months of sex instead? Would that be better than nothing? My stomach twisted, but at the same time, there was a part of me that would do anything just to have a small piece of him.
And this was Christmas in New York. It was the US equivalent to Springt
ime in Paris.
I felt the heat rise in my cheeks at the thought of us strolling hand-in-hand down the busy sidewalks. When the taxi stopped, I was glad we climbed out into a blast of chilly air, hoping that explained my pink cheeks.
“Okay, M. Let’s see those display windows,” James said.
We strolled by the front of the department store. All of the windows were framed by twinkling gold lights, each one displaying a magical, festive scene. I felt like I was in a movie, like Home Alone 2 or Elf. This was a place so alive in my imagination through culture and art that I felt like I’d been here a thousand times even though I’d never once stepped foot in the city.
“All right,” James admitted. “London puts on a good show at Christmas, but this place just about trumps it.”
“It’s so cool,” I said, grinning as we made our way inside the store.
“I think the best course of action for us is to split up. If you want to go grab some things, I’ll meet you back here in an hour,” James said.
“Okay, sounds good,” I replied, looking all about as I tried to spot the women’s clothing section.
“Get whatever you need, and make sure to use the business credit card the show issued you,” he instructed.
“Oh, no I couldn’t—”
“This is a business trip, Michaela, and you need clothes to do business. Use the card. I won’t have you out of pocket just because the airline managed to lose our bags.”
Well, I couldn’t really argue with that. We parted ways and I found the right departments, looking for cheaper options and stuff on sale. I grabbed two blouses, a cardigan, leggings, and some pyjamas, bringing them all up to the counter to pay. Later, we’d have to make another stop at a pharmacy to buy toothpaste and a toothbrush at least. I figured there would be shampoo and other toiletries at the hotel.
By the time I got everything, I was late to meet back up with James, so I hurried to the door we’d agreed to meet at. He was waiting with two bags over his arm. It was just as I reached him that I remembered I’d forgotten to buy underwear. It was okay though. I could just wash what I was already wearing until our bags finally showed up, right?
“Did you get everything you need?” James asked, eyes running over me.
“Yes, mostly,” I replied, stepping up next to him.
His hand settled on my arm. “You forgot something?”
“It’s fine,” I said, waving him away.
Without another word, he placed his hand to the small of my back and ushered me back inside.
“It’s really not a problem,” I insisted.
“Lead the way,” James said, standing firm. “We’re not in any rush. The store’s open late for Christmas shopping.”
“Okay, then,” I squeaked and tried not to be too embarrassed as I checked for the right floor.
He followed me up the escalators to the sixth floor, past the hosiery and socks. I sensed him still as soon as he saw the displays of lacey undergarments. This had to be one of the most awkward moments of my life.
I scanned the display, about to grab the first cut-price multi-pack in my size when my gaze landed on a rack of pretty, lacy underwear. Normally, I only bought the fancy stuff as a treat for myself on special occasions, but I hadn’t gotten new ones in ages.
I grew self-conscious when I sensed James watching. A part of me didn’t want him to think I wore plain, discount underwear. I wanted him to think I wore fancy, feminine ones. Sexy ones.
I tried to fight the urge, but something came over me. I bypassed the discount display and approached the rack that had caught my eye. I plucked out a pair of knickers in my size and a matching bra.
Hmm, I’ll probably need at least two changes of underwear, especially if it takes more than a day for our luggage to arrive, I thought to myself.
Chancing a quick peek at James, he stood a few feet away, his attention resolutely on his phone. He must’ve sensed me looking because his eyes flicked to mine for a brief second before they went back to his phone again. Was it just me, or did he look slightly embarrassed?
I turned my attention back to my quest for underwear and found the prettiest pair in cream silk. Flicking through the rack, I frowned when I couldn’t find my size.
“Everything okay?” James asked. He still stood a few feet away, but his phone had been returned to his pocket and all his attention was on me now.
I bit my lip, lowering my gaze as my cheeks reddened. “I’m just trying to find my size.”
I felt rather than saw him approach, his heat at my back. He reached across me – his long arms allowing him to reach much further than I could – then plucked a pair from the rack. He handed them to me silently and my cheeks grew even hotter. They were exactly my size.
The idea of him paying the kind of close attention to my body it would require to know my exact size had my stomach doing somersaults.
This same thought suddenly seemed to occur to him as his eyes widened in realisation.
“Sorry. I…” he trailed off. His jaw tightened, his eyes growing intense in a way I hadn’t seen before. It made my pulse pound, and my palms grow sweaty.
“Why are you sorry?” I questioned.
His eyes came back to me, and I saw in his expression he worried he might’ve just made me uncomfortable, which certainly wasn’t the case. I was more flattered and a little aroused, but he didn’t need to know that. I reached out to briefly touch his hand, trying to show him with my eyes that he had no reason to apologise. His gaze darkened and a little thrill went through me. I felt an electricity between us as he opened his mouth, like he was about to say something, but then a store clerk interrupted.
“Can I help you with anything?” the girl asked, completely oblivious to whatever had been transpiring between James and me.
He stepped back, clearing his throat. “I’ll let you finish up,” James said, his voice low and gravelly. He turned away, looking around. I told the girl that I didn’t need help, I’d found everything I was looking for, then went to the counter to pay. I was still feeling the aftereffects of the weird moment James and I just shared as I handed over the credit card. When I returned to him, his attention was on my shoes.
“You’re going to need more comfortable footwear,” he said. “We’ll be doing a lot of walking tomorrow.”
Something in me felt disappointed at his very practical change of subject. A naughty part of me wished for him to continue picking out underwear for me in the correct size. I wondered if he’d get my bra size right too. Okay, I definitely needed to redirect that thought.
I glanced down at my patent black ballet flats. “These should be okay. They’re comfortable.”
“They’ll cut into your feet,” James said. “You need something hardier, like boots. It’s likely to rain and it might even snow while we’re here.”
Well, when he put it like that. I didn’t want to be walking in snow in ballet flats. He led me to a store that sold all kinds of footwear, bringing me to the boots section. I noticed his eyes kept wandering back to my ballet flats.
“Okay, out with it. Why do you keep looking at my shoes?”
His lips twitched as though in amusement. “Sorry, it’s just my mum used to have this thing about patent leather shoes.”
I eyed him curiously. “What sort of thing?”
“It’s nothing. Never mind.”
“No, tell me,” I insisted.
James exhaled a breath, bringing his handsome eyes to mine. “She used to tell my sisters never to wear black patent shoes with a skirt or a dress because men could see their underwear in the reflection of their shoes.”
Unbidden, I burst out laughing, my hand going to my mouth. “That’s hilarious.” A pause as I thought about it. “But also true.” And now I was thinking about underwear again. Was James thinking about it too? God, my thoughts were a law unto themselves today. Maybe the flight fried my brain.
James smiled. “She had lots of crazy little rules like that. I miss her.”
> “She sounds like she was an interesting woman,” I said, eyeing a pair of brown leather ankle boots. I picked them up, thinking they’d do all right, and went to ask a sales assistant if they could get them in my size. A few minutes later we left the mall and found a taxi to bring us to the hotel.
The journey was quiet until a few minutes in I received a text from Louis.
Louis: I hope you have a good time in New York! You’ll be missed at the concert. x
I didn’t realise James had peeked at the message until he asked, “Did you have to cancel your date?”
“Oh, yeah,” I replied, frowning as I slotted my phone back in my bag. “It’s fine though. We can always do something when I get back.”
James nodded, falling quiet a moment, his attention out the window when he replied, “We should go out tomorrow night, you, me and Paul.”
“Isn’t this supposed to be a work trip?” I questioned with a small smile.
“I’m sure one night out won’t cost us our jobs,” he shot back, returning my smile.
At the hotel our rooms were right next to each other. This shouldn’t have made me feel weird since we’d spent the last two weeks sleeping under the same roof, but there was something different about being in a hotel, in a city far away from home.
I decided to get an early night since we had a busy few days ahead of us. The hotel bed was comfortable, and I slept surprisingly well, but I woke up at 4 am New York time, my body clock still in the UK. Figuring I might as well get to work, I showered and dressed in the new clothes I’d bought yesterday, feeling particularly aware when I slid on the underwear. I remembered James plucking it off the rack and casually handing it to me. Then, the moment we shared after, where I felt like he might drag me into an empty changing room and kiss me senseless.
Hey, a girl had to have her fantasies.
Once dressed, I called down to the front desk to check if our bags had shown up yet (they hadn’t.) Next, I spent some time working on my laptop before I sent messages to James and Paul, asking if they’d like me to order their breakfasts (a resounding yes.) Once all that was taken care of, I took my laptop down to the lobby, where I grabbed some coffee and a pastry, then got to work mapping out our route for the day. I wanted to make things as seamless as possible so that James and Paul could focus on ideas for the next season instead of worrying about how they were going to get from one place to the next.