The Play

by Karina Halle

  I don’t even know how I get ready and hold it all together.

  I’m brushing my teeth and then suddenly—

  BOOM.

  I might be brushing my teeth in Scotland.

  I’m drinking coffee and—

  BOOM.

  I might be drinking coffee in Scotland.

  I’m imagining Lachlan’s face, open and inquisitive, wanting to hear beautiful things from me and—

  BOOM.

  I might have that for three wonderful weeks. The idea that I don’t have to say goodbye yet, that in a few hours I could be in his strong, warm arms again makes me feel drunk at eight a.m.

  But first I have to go to work. I don’t seem to have many principles, but even I wouldn’t just leave my job like that. I have to throw caution to the wind…cautiously.

  I do a last minute tidy-up around the apartment, pretending that I might not see it for a while, then I cram my suitcase into my car and head off to work.

  I’m nervous, of course. Scared of what I might do if Lucy says no. I’m scared that those principles I have might be thrown out the window, and then where would that leave me?

  Well, at least I’d be on a plane to Scotland.

  I arrive at work fifteen minutes early, hoping to catch Lucy before she gets distracted. When she sees me, eyeing my super casual skinny yoga pants, slip-on sneakers, and a t-shirt (you have to be comfy on the plane), she looks surprised, probably doubly so because I’m never early.

  “Kayla,” she says as I stride into her office. “What’s, uh, going on?”

  I give her a tight smile. “May I talk with you?”

  She takes her hand off her mouse and gives me her full attention. “All right.”

  “I’ll make this short and sweet, but please know that it’s really important to me, and it’s a great opportunity, and I don’t get many like these. And I’ve worked here for a long time, and I’ve been pretty good. Great, sometimes. Anyway, I normally don’t ask for something like this, so let’s just take a moment to both close our eyes and appreciate that.”

  She raises her brow. “Okay. But I don’t know what you’re asking me yet.”

  I take a deep breath, straightening my shoulders. “I know it’s last minute, but…can I take my vacation?”

  “Sure,” she says, looking back to her computer, probably finding my file. “When?”

  “Today.”

  She pauses typing. “What?”

  “Yeah. I have a flight at three p.m. to Edinburgh, Scotland.”

  “Today?” she repeats just as Candace comes into the office, glancing curiously at us.

  “Yes.”

  “That’s more than last minute.”

  “I know, I know,” I say, giving her my most pleading look. “Please.”

  She rubs between her eyes. “Do you want your whole three weeks?”

  “Yes, yes, if I can.”

  “You know we’re getting into fall, things are going to get busier.”

  “I know, but Candace can handle it,” I say. I can’t believe I’m about to do this, but I stick my head into the office and yell at her. “Candace, if I go away for the next three weeks, do you think you can take over my account?”

  She springs to her feet with overjoyed eyes and practically runs over to us. At this moment I know I’m handing my job, what I’ve worked for all these years, over to her, but it can’t be helped. I know that no matter what, this will be worth it.

  And thankfully, thanks to Candace’s eagerness for the job, she’s the one who sells Lucy in the end.

  “Fine,” Lucy says, giving me a wary smile. “You can go, Kayla.”

  “What?” I ask, my breath stilling in my chest.

  “Go. Go to Scotland. But when you come back, be prepared to work a lot. And make sure you get some kind of data plan over there. We might need to get in touch for this and that.”

  She goes on about something else but I can’t even hear her. I’m smiling, stupidly, my heart this bubble that refuses to burst. That bubble takes me out of the office and I’m floating, high on joy, all the way to the car. I float while I drive, the car and I hovering happily as I cruise down the highway toward the airport. Nick Cave’s “Supernaturally” plays from the speakers, something I’ve been listening to ever since Lachlan said he admired him. Just another thing I’ve been doing, thinking, feeling, because of Lachlan.

  And now, now I’m going off with him.

  And so he is mine.

  My Lachlan.

  My beast.

  My big, broken man.

  I am coming for him. I am going to give myself to him in every way possible.

  My body.

  My heart.

  My soul.

  I’m going to get on that plane and stop being afraid for the first time in my life. I’m going to let him in and pray, hope, he’ll let me in too.

  I’m so happy I could almost cry. I laugh instead, slowly, the feeling sneaking up on me as realization hits.

  I can’t believe I’m fucking doing this.

  This is so not me.

  But maybe it’s the me I’ve always wanted to be.

  And when I get to the airport and see Lachlan standing by the Virgin Atlantic ticket counter, where he texted me to meet him this morning, it feels like the sun is just shining through. It illuminates everything, telling me that this is right.

  That there never was any other way for us.

  I’m meant to be with him.

  I stop where I am and take him in like this, his wide back turned to me. I watch him, unseen. Like a ghost. And I have to pinch my fucking self, because even in his cargo pants, hiking boots, and faded black t-shirt, he’s too handsome, too wonderful, too much of a man to exist on this earth.

  I’m so incredibly lucky he asked me.

  He asked me.

  As if he can sense me, he looks over his shoulder.

  Drinks me in.

  His eyes crinkle—light, soulful—and he grins at me.

  It’s so beautiful.

  He grins at me because now he knows, he knows, I’m his.

  “I’m here,” I tell him as I slowly walk toward him, my voice barely audible.

  He nods. “You’re here.”

  PART TWO

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Lachlan

  “Lachlan?”

  Like a ray of light into a dark room, Kayla’s sweet throaty voice permeates my dreams. I slowly open my eyes, forgetting where I am for a moment. You’d think that would be nearly impossible when you’re on an airplane, but the black, sticky quality of my dreams, quickly fading from my consciousness, render me dazed.

  When I nodded off, the lights in the cabin were dimmed. Now it’s bright, and light shines in through the bottom of the window cover. Daylight.

  I lift my head and let out a low grunt, my neck aching from the way I was sleeping. I look beside me to see Kayla smiling softly at me.

  She came. I can’t believe she came.

  “Good morning,” she says, rubbing underneath her eyes. “I wanted to let you keep sleeping, but the flight attendant was making it her mission to wake you up. We’re landing in twenty minutes.”

  I try and swallow, my throat so unbearably dry, and shift in my seat to face her. “You’re still here,” I say, my voice hoarse. I reach out and touch her face, her skin feeling like heaven.

  She twists her head to kiss my hand, her coy eyes never leaving mine. “Of course I’m still here. Where would I go? Another seat?”

  “I thought it was all a dream,” I tell her softly. “And when I woke up, I’d wake up alone.”

  “Nope,” she says, and I brush the hair from her face, rubbing her silky strands between my fingers, as if I need further proof that she’s real. “It’s not a dream. It feels like it though, doesn’t it? I mean…I can’t believe this is happening.”

  I nod slowly. “Did you sleep at all?”

  She shakes her head. “Way, way too excited to sleep. I watched a bunch of movies. And t
hen I watched you sleep for a bit, like a total creeper.”

  I smile, finding that strangely endearing. “Well, I like it when you’re a total creeper, love. You’ll be doing a lot more of it when we land. I’m afraid I’ll rarely let you out of my sight in Edinburgh.”

  “That should make my stalking much easier.”

  The flight attendant comes by and tells me to put my seat up and raise the window shade in that scolding way that they all have, and it’s not long before the plane is descending. Kayla leans over me to look out the window, even though there’s nothing to see but patches of green between grey clouds. I can’t help but close my eyes, breathing her in. Even after being on a plane for thirteen hours, she smells incredible. It’s not soap, it’s not perfume, it’s just her. Something that can’t be bottled. Something that makes my blood rush to all the right places.

  I shift in my seat, trying to ignore the stirrings of an erection. Kayla is so busy looking out the window that she doesn’t seem to notice. Which is good because I know she’d go out of her way to make me even stiffer. As soon as I get her in my flat though, I’m not holding back.

  My flat. It feels right insane that I’m back here and she’s with me. I don’t even know how to properly introduce her to Edinburgh when all I want to do is lock her in my bedroom for days.

  But I’m returning to a life I left on pause. There are a lot of things to catch up on. I just hope I can integrate her into the process as smoothly as possible. Once I introduce her to Amara and Thierry, I think that will help. And, if I’m brave enough, my parents and my brother Brigs. Rugby and the shelter are going to take up a lot of my time, but I’ll gladly have Kayla as involved in those as much as possible—as much as she wants to be, anyway.

  The plane jostles, dropping some feet and lilting to the left. A few people in the cabin gasp while Kayla grasps my hand, holding on tight. I give her a squeeze back.

  “It’s just turbulence,” I tell her with what I hope is a reassuring smile.

  She nods, though her expression is pained. “I’m not a good flier,” she admits, holding tighter as the plane bumps around again, my stomach flipping.

  “It’s okay,” I say, returning her grip. I look out the window to see the ground getting closer, the perimeter fence of the airport quickly approaching. “We’re almost there.”

  And while I can feel her pulse racing against my skin, I know she can feel mine doing the same. But it’s not flying that I’m afraid of. It’s what happens when we land. It’s beyond complicated, feeling so happy that she’s here, and at the same time, I’m nervous about what’s going to happen next. It’s been a very, very long time since I’ve let anyone into my life, and I’m about to do that with her. I have no idea what will happen when she has to leave. Worse than that, I have no idea what will happen when and if she discovers the real me. Because I’m tempted to throw the doors wide open and let her in, to show her all the dark and ugliness inside me.

  If she runs and never comes back, I’ll have no one to blame but myself. I fear the blame, my habit for self-loathing, might be my ruin once again.

  The wheels touch down with a screech and the plane blasts forward on the runway for a moment before the brakes come into full effect. Once the plane slows, Kayla loosens her grip, but it turns out mine is stronger.

  “I didn’t know you were afraid too,” she says as I let go.

  I only smile at her. I’d much rather trade one fear for another.

  It doesn’t take long before we’ve disembarked and are waiting by the luggage carousel. I laugh when I see Kayla’s luggage come around on the belt, screaming hot pink.

  “What?” she says defensively. “That way I know it’s mine.”

  “Kind of defeats the purpose if it blinds everyone, love,” I remind her, reaching over to pick up the suitcase. Then we head over to the oversized luggage area to pick up Emily in her dog crate.

  She looks scared and the crate smells something awful, but there’s still enough drugs in her system so she’s subdued and not panicking. I whisper soothing words to her through the wire gate and she seems to understand that things will only get better.

  Originally, when I was arriving alone, I was going to have my brother pick me up, but with Kayla here, and since we were on a different flight, a taxi is a much better option.

  We get ourselves into a cab, and Kayla is already marveling at how different it all is.

  “I forgot you drive on the other side of the road,” she says. “And this cab is crazy with your flip-down seats and everything.” She kicks the seat across from her for emphasis, which makes Emily raise her head.

  “I think you need some sleep,” I say gently, putting my arm around Kayla and holding her against me.

  “Sleep is the last thing I need,” she says, sliding her hand over my stomach. But five minutes into the drive and she’s asleep against me.

  My flat is in the Stockbridge area of the city, so it takes a while for us to get there, battling among the morning commuters. By the time we arrive at North East Circus Place I almost don’t want to wake Kayla, she’s sleeping so deeply.

  “Hey,” I whisper to her while the cabbie slides open the door and pulls our luggage out. “We’re here.” I remove my arm and shake her a bit. It takes forever for her to open her eyes, but when she does, she’s frowning in confusion. Once she seems to recognize me, she smiles.

  “Wow,” she says, her voice croaking. “I was deep under.”

  “As soon as I get you inside, I’ll put you to bed,” I tell her, unbuckling our seatbelts and helping her out of the cab. She leans against it, unsteady, while I pay the driver, and stares up at the building.

  “Is this all yours?” she asks.

  I take her arm and pull her away from the cab before it drives away.

  “Only the first floor,” I tell her. “Although that’s what you would call the second floor in America.” She doesn’t seem to hear me—she’s just blinking in awe.

  I guess it does look a lot different than what she’s used to. The whole row of stone buildings take up a block as one attached complex. Though the false balconies and wrought iron details are similar to the ones I’ve seen in San Francisco, it’s the stone that sets it apart. And the fact that it was built two hundred years ago.

  “It used to be one big townhouse back in the day,” I tell her, taking our luggage and Emily’s crate to the white-painted door. I nod at the garden and apartments set below on either side of the bridge-like walkway. “A nice couple with a baby rents the bottom and ground floor flats. I have the first floor. The top of the building is owned by an older couple, but they’re rarely in the city.”

  “So you can just own different floors of the same house?” she asks.

  I nod. “It’s common here.”

  She looks behind her at the green trees of the park across the street, their leaves shining with morning dew.

  “That’s Circus Place,” I point out. “One of the places I take Lionel or whichever dog I’m fostering at the moment. A couple of blocks down is the Queen Street Gardens. The neighborhood is very dog friendly and it’s close to Princes Street, the castle, and anywhere else you’ll want to go in the city.”

  “Is Lionel upstairs?” she asks as I stick the key in the door.

  I shake my head. “Amara has him. She’ll bring him by later. But first, let’s deal with you.”

  “Oh, I’m fine,” she says, stifling a yawn.

  I leave the luggage at the bottom of the stairs and take Emily’s crate and Kayla up to the first floor.

  “I can’t believe this would have been one big house,” she says, admiring the royal blue carpet on the stairs and the teak wood trim on the walls.

  “People had a lot of money back in the day,” I tell her, bringing her to the front door on the landing. “And people with money had servants to house. Probably a mistress and a bastard child too.”

  She raises her brows. “So where do you keep your mistress?”

  “You’
re the mistress, the wife, the girlfriend, the everything.” It takes me a moment to realize I’ve said something that was probably a bit much, but the prettiest pink flush spreads to her cheeks. I can’t open the door fast enough.

  I place Emily in the hall, closing the door behind us, and grab Kayla’s hand. “Quick tour while I get Emily some water and food.”

  The hallway off the stairs has doors leading to the front and rear of the flat. At the rear is the kitchen and the dining room with shuttered floor to ceiling windows that look out onto the private walled garden that I share with the other residents.

  “Holy shit.” Kayla whirls around, taking it all in. “This room is huge. These are the highest ceilings I’ve ever seen.”

  I quickly duck into the kitchen to fill a dog dish with water, and I add a small amount of dog kibble into another bowl. Lionel usually eats raw food, but it’s best to start Emily off with something easy.

  I come back out to see Kayla roaming around the room, running her hand over the dark oak table in the middle, marveling at everything. Because the room is so large, I’ve got a computer workstation set up in the corner and a long white leather couch along one wall.

  “It’s more than enough space for me, that’s for sure,” I tell her, and she follows me back into the hall where I set the bowls down and open Emily’s crate. I crouch down and try to coax her out, but she shrinks back.

  “We’ll give her some time,” I tell Kayla and step away. “Come, let me show you the rest of the flat.” I nod at a door across from us. “The bathroom is accessed through there. I wish it were an ensuite, but what can you do?”

  I open the door to the drawing room, the natural morning light flooding from the windows. “This is the drawing room, which is just a living room in your American speak.”

  “Only it’s not just any kind of room,” Kayla says, impressed again as we walk in, eyeing the comfy couches, the rows of bookshelves, the high hanging chandelier. Funny how sometimes you have to look at something through someone else’s eyes to really see it. I knew I’d lucked out when I bought the flat five years ago. I’d finally had enough money to invest it into something worthwhile (a few years after that I bought a tiny flat in London, but that I always lease out). From the hardwood floors to the decorative cornice work to the white marble fireplace, it’s always been just a little too good for a bloke like me. But my adopted father, Donald, always taught me to invest, and buying this place was one of the smartest things I’d ever done.