Eyes Like Those

by Melissa Brayden

  “He did not,” Isabel said, joining Taylor on the floor because she had energy exploding from everywhere and had no outlet. “He did not say I’m the bee’s knees.” She sat on Taylor’s stomach and held her down by her wrists. “What else did he not say? Tell me.”

  “I’ve not seen your smile stretch that wide ever. Aww, baby, look at your pretty teeth.”

  “Taylor.”

  “Yes?” She blinked up at Isabel with those big green eyes.

  “You’re stalling, and I will be forced to tickle you.”

  “Which I hate, so don’t you dare, or I will turn Raisin on you. He’s vicious. You don’t know.” They were both smiling now. Taylor took a breath. “Gerald mentioned that maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to tag you in a little more often.”

  Isabel sat back, releasing Taylor’s wrists. “He did not.”

  Taylor studied her. “You have a reality acceptance problem that we should work on. Reality check: You’re a really talented writer. Second reality: People are noticing. Third: We should go out to dinner tonight. Somewhere nice, so I can stare at you across candlelight.”

  “I’d be down for dinner. I don’t have anything nice with me to wear, though. Can we stop by my place?”

  “Of course. Oh, and Gerald has released me from my shackles at Sister Dale, due to a much-needed ratings hike. Lyric has been cleared to fly solo. I have no doubt she will fly that show into a cliff, but it’s not my problem anymore. I’ll be back at Water full-time on Monday.”

  Isabel paused before launching a full-on tickle attack on Taylor. “You buried the lede! You buried the lede, and now you must pay dearly.” Beneath her fingertips, Taylor laughed, squirmed, and gasped.

  “Uncle!” she yelled. “Truce!” she shouted when “uncle” didn’t work.

  “Say you’re sorry, and that I’m the best tickler ever.”

  “I’m sorry,” Taylor wheezed, as tears leaked from her eyes. “But I’m not saying the other thing.” Isabel moved the tickling from her stomach to her ribs, upping the ante. Taylor screamed and laughed. “Fine!” she yelled finally in desperation. “You’re the best tickler ever. Now please, God, stop. No more!”

  Isabel sat back calmly. “See? Was that really so hard?”

  “It was very hard. I can’t believe you resorted to tickling. It’s fiendish. It’s devilish. It’s very you.”

  Isabel grinned proudly as Taylor caught her breath. They stared at each other.

  “I have fun with you,” Taylor said simply. “Even when you hold me down and tickle me against my will. Why are we so good together?”

  “Because you’re put together, polished, and successful and I’m a creative mess who sometimes knows where my shoes are. What could be more perfect? We’re like Laurel and Hardy, but who have sex.” Isabel shook her head. “We’re weirdos for waiting as long as we did to hang out.”

  Taylor sat up and rested on her forearms behind her. “Hanging out, huh? We’ve been hanging out a lot lately.”

  “Mmm-hmm. It’s a multipurpose phrase. I’m good at words—you just said so.” Isabel placed a kiss on Taylor’s nose. “I like your nose. And I get to see it every day again. I don’t have to share custody of this nose with any other show now.”

  “That’s a fascinating way of looking at it.”

  Isabel took a moment, her tone softening because this mattered. “I don’t mean to downplay it. I’m just so happy that I get to see you every day. The best moments are the ones you’re in, Tay.”

  Taylor broke into a grin, and it was like the sun coming out. “I wasn’t expecting that. How do I reconcile the fact that with just a few simple words you absolutely slay me?”

  Isabel’s heart smashed in her chest, hummingbird fast. She pulled Taylor in. “Just know I mean them, okay? I’m not the most outwardly sentimental person, but I need you to understand how much you matter to me.”

  Taylor pulled back and looked her in the eyes, her gaze communicating a depth of emotion. “I do now.”

  “Good.” Isabel nodded and ran a nervous hand through her hair. She wasn’t great at confessions from the heart, but she planned to get better. “Now, are we ready to go get that dress so we can eat fancy food and celebrate your return?”

  “No,” Taylor said, wrapping her arms around Isabel’s middle. “Have you already forgotten? We’re celebrating you and your rising star.”

  “Let’s do both.”

  “Deal.”

  “And let’s kiss before we go.”

  Taylor relaxed into a lazy grin. “You’re on a roll.”

  *****

  They parked in Isabel’s designated space and made their way to the courtyard of Seven Shores. Taylor had never been here in the daylight and realized now how much she’d missed. The small complex was cute, homey, and charming. She glanced to the left and caught a glimpse of a blue sign peeking from just behind the trees. “Is that the cat? The cat?” Taylor asked, feeling like she’d spotted a celebrity. She’d been drinking magnificent coffee from cups featuring that very cat for a long time now, and to actually see his face out in the larger world had her beyond excited.

  Isabel followed her gaze. “That’s him. In pajamas again. That guy never gets ready for the day. Probably collects cat unemployment.”

  “Do you think we have enough time to pop in so I can see it?”

  “Aww, look at the hope and suspense on your face. As if I’m going to say, ‘Absolutely not. We are on a strict timeline with very little flexibility. Keep moving, Andrews.’” Isabel shook her head and smiled. “It’s a beautiful Saturday, and I’m chillin’ with you, and if you tell me you want to skip dinner altogether and just have coffee at the Cat’s Pajamas, I will happily buy.”

  “Let’s just pop in and see it. Then dinner.”

  “Follow me.”

  Autumn grinned at them from her spot behind the counter as they entered the coffee shop. It was midday and the place was quiet. A couple of tables had folks focused intently on their laptops, and two blond women played chess in the corner by the couches. She wasn’t positive, but that might have been Jimi Hendrix playing over the speakers, which was not your typical coffeehouse fare at all. Then again, this was Venice, and it was nothing if not unique.

  “Alert, everyone,” Autumn said as they approached. “Writer types on the premises. Look extra smart.” The customers glanced up, offering a nod or a smile. The place was entirely laid-back as the clientele seemed to be.

  “Don’t act smart on my account,” Isabel told her. “I don’t even know what fennel is.” Autumn and Taylor swiveled to her and she waved them off. “Long and bitter story.”

  “It’s an herb,” Autumn said gently.

  “I know it’s an herb. Just a ridiculous one.” She looked from Autumn to Taylor. “I have a lot of anger toward fennel.”

  “I’m sensing that,” Taylor said, intrigued. “You’re going to have to explain that one later.” She smiled at Autumn. “I’m so happy to finally see your shop. I’ve been telling everyone how amazing the coffee is here. I feel like that cat is my friend.”

  “He is. PJ’s everyone’s friend. As for coffee, I don’t even ask for an order anymore,” Autumn said. “I just have two to-go cups ready for Izzy each morning, once she’s ready to hit the road.”

  One of the things Taylor simply couldn’t get used to was how thoughtful Isabel could be. Even on days when Taylor was all the way across the lot at Sister Dale, she’d still find a cup of coffee from the Cat’s Pajamas sitting on her desk when she emerged from whatever meeting or event had her occupied. It gave her a boost each time, and not just from the caffeine but from the reminder that a woman she was crazy about was thinking about her that morning, too.

  She turned in a circle to take in the space fully. “Autumn, this space is amazing.” It was more than she’d imagined, decked out with colors and memorabilia in a hodgepodge that somehow really worked. One of those places she didn’t feel cool enough to inhabit, traces left over from her high scho
ol days. She moved herself right out of that familiar pitfall. “I love it! It’s even more unique than I imagined. Is that an astronaut in the corner?”

  “Not an actual guy,” Autumn said, as she fiddled with the many silver pieces of what looked to be a large espresso machine. “Just the suit. I bought it at auction and painted it that shade of blue myself. Any coffee for you guys or are you just here to keep me company? Which I love, by the way.”

  Friend or not, Taylor felt like she ought to buy something. Manners were big in her world. “No, we’ll take two coffees.”

  “Two coffees, one black and one sweetened with cream coming up.”

  Taylor hooked a thumb at Autumn. “She’s good.”

  “It’s kind of freaky how good. It’s not just me. She knows everyone’s order. Watch.” Isabel approached the counter to pay. “Hey Autumn, see that guy sitting near the door?”

  Autumn followed her gaze. “I do.”

  “What’s his usual?”

  “Oh, Blake is an iced coffee with three shots and four pumps of vanilla. The only time he deviates is the holidays when he trades out vanilla for mint.”

  Taylor stared at her in awe. “You’re like Rain Man for coffee.”

  “Good God. I’m having that engraved,” Autumn said seriously.

  They laughed and accepted the coffee she handed them.

  “No Steve today?” Isabel asked, taking a sip. Taylor winced. Isabel didn’t shy away from the hot, burn-your-throat-overtly sip. Taylor, on the other hand, preferred to wait a few minutes, until the coffee had a chance to cool a few degrees. Honestly, it was a metaphor for how they approached life. Taylor erred more on the side of caution, she was finding. Isabel went for it every time. Isabel turned to Taylor. “Steve is one of my favorite baristas. He’s one of the friendliest guys I’ve ever met. Young and wide-eyed, but he’s from Ohio, so that probably explains it.”

  Autumn glanced behind her. “Steve is in the back with my new hire Katrina. Katrina, you should know, is less friendly than Steve. She sort of seems like she’s working a very difficult puzzle in her head when she speaks to you. Or an atomic bomb. Six of one, half dozen of the other. Jury is out on how she’ll do with the customers.”

  As if on cue, Katrina appeared. She was a teenager, with extra-long blond hair pulled into a ponytail and meticulous bangs. “Excuse me.” She studied Autumn, her brow furrowed, as if in intense concentration. “I’m not finding those boxes of sweeteners you asked me to unpack.”

  “Top shelf on the right in the storage closet.”

  Katrina placed a finger on her bottom lip and tapped a few times. Autumn was right. Katrina was solving for x in a parallel conversation. “Riiiight. Thank you. I’ll get back to it.”

  Once they were alone, Autumn whirled back to them. “See? What’s that about?”

  Isabel shrugged. “Beats me.” She dropped her tone. “Here’s hoping she doesn’t kill you.”

  Taylor elbowed Isabel. “How awful! I assure you, Autumn, she won’t kill you. If it helps, I had the same thoughts when I hired Isabel. Her weapon of choice was coffee.”

  Autumn reached across the counter and offered Isabel a fist bump. “Truth is, I hire mostly kids, and besides Steve and me, the roster is constantly rotating. You meet some interesting folks.”

  Taylor exchanged a glance with Isabel. “You just said a writer’s dream sentence. Keep us in the loop.”

  “Of course.”

  With coffee in hand, they stopped by Isabel’s apartment, where Fat Tony attempted to play hockey with Taylor’s feet while Isabel changed. When she emerged from the bedroom, Taylor’s heart squeezed and her body warmed pleasantly. Isabel looked stunning in a casual red dress with three-quarter sleeves paired with a pair of low black heels.

  “That dress is gorgeous. Look at you. God, Iz, you have fantastic taste.”

  Isabel stared at her, her eyes going wide. She started to say something and then stopped and held up a hand. “No. It’s a sham. All of it. I have mediocre taste at best. I messaged Had and told her we were going to a nice place and asked if she had anything. She dropped off the dress because she has a key from checking in on Tony on weekends.” Isabel covered her eyes and sat on the couch with a thump.

  Taylor laughed and sat next to her. “Why would you characterize that as a sham? And why wouldn’t you tell me you weren’t sure what to wear?”

  Isabel gestured up and down Taylor’s body. She’d selected her white dress with a slash of blue down the middle. “Because look at you. How am I supposed to keep up with you? With designers and glamour and…you. All you are.”

  “First of all, this dress was on the clearance rack at the mall. I’m not nearly as sophisticated as you seem to think I am. Second of all, you’ve made similar comments along the way. Does this have anything to do with the panic attacks? Maybe we should talk about the root cause.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Tell me one thing that you’re afraid of.” Silence filled the room. Isabel tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear and studied the wall carefully. “Iz? Talk to me.”

  She turned to Taylor, her blue eyes carrying vulnerability. The type Isabel tucked away anytime Taylor glimpsed it. “What if it’s ten years from now and I’m still in your shadow? The less attractive sidekick who never amounted to much. And there you are, wishing you were with someone glamorous and exciting like you are. Instead, you’re stuck with me.”

  “Is that how you feel?”

  “No.” A long pause. “Yes.”

  Taylor smiled, and not to make Isabel feel better but because what she’d just heard was ludicrous, ridiculous, and she couldn’t see her way to dignify it with a serious response. Isabel was beautiful and smart and creative and the fact that she didn’t see it was baffling. “That doesn’t make any sense to me.”

  “I just need for you to know that I’m never going to be an Aspen. You’re never going to wake up and find that’s happened.” She looked so crestfallen as she said the words, as if she truly thought she had failed some sort of important test.

  “Thank God,” Taylor said, slipping her hand into Isabel’s and pulling it into her lap. “I would never want you to be anyone but you.” Isabel didn’t say anything but she also wasn’t looking at Taylor anymore, which both hurt and pulled at her heart at the same time. “Isabel, you have to believe me when I tell you this, okay?” That had her attention. Isabel faced her, and that’s when Taylor saw that there were tears pooled in her eyes. “I’ve never had anything like this with someone. Ever. Normally, I wouldn’t say these things, because it’s only been three months since we’ve been…hanging out.” The use of her term had the corners of Isabel’s mouth turning up ever so slightly. “But it happens to be very true. I was married to an amazing person, and we really clicked. But not in the ways we needed to. I’ve had fast and furious affairs, but they’ve always burned out. Aspen would fall into that category. But with you, Isabel Chase, it’s so very different. We click in all the ways and I can’t seem to stop myself from hoping that this is something bigger than the both of us, because what if it is? What if this is it?”

  Isabel was up and walking across her living room, shaking her arms as she walked. She turned back to Taylor with the expression of an investigative journalist on a mission. “So, you’re saying you think there’s potential for a future? With us. Potentially. I know I already said the potential part. Ignore it. It’s whatever. But do you?”

  Taylor grinned and waded through the neurosis. “I do.”

  Isabel’s hand went to her hips and she blew out a breath looking gorgeous in that dress. “Good. Okay. That’s helpful to hear.” The smile crept in slowly, but once it took shape on Isabel’s face there was no better visual. “I’m a mess when it comes to you. You should know that.”

  Taylor nodded. “I’m filing it away.”

  “I’ve just…never been happy like this before.” The sentence hit Taylor square in the center of the chest and blossomed.

  “I mak
e you happy?”

  “Yes.” Isabel nodded several times. “And it feels like a precarious height to fall from, you know?”

  Taylor stood and walked to Isabel, understanding that she needed reassurance and the knowledge that they were in this together. She slipped her hands around Isabel’s waist and met her gaze squarely. “I have a suggestion.” She brushed the hair from Isabel’s forehead. “No one falls from any kind of height, and no one gets hurt.” She kissed her softly. “And we take this one day at a time.” Another kiss. “And continue to have important conversations like this one.” This time Isabel kissed her in what felt like a promise. Taylor’s eyes fluttered closed and she accepted the unspoken words, tucking them close to her heart.

  Isabel pulled her mouth away and rested her forehead against Taylor’s. “I like the proposed plan.”

  “Good.”

  “Is it wrong that I don’t want to go to a fancy dinner tonight?”

  Taylor smiled. “No. Where would you like to go instead?”

  “The beach.”

  “Take me there.”

  *****

  It was still daylight when they arrived on the beach, but Isabel knew it wouldn’t be long before the glorious sun, already sporting all sorts of fantastic colors, would descend further from its spot in the sky, leaving night and the chill that came with it to creep in around them. She’d swapped her dress for jeans, and luckily, Taylor fit as well in her clothes as she fit in Taylor’s. It amused her, the visual of Taylor in her knock-arounds. Another way to describe it was hot, which had her stealing glances as they walked the length of this bustling section of the beach, stopping at each of the retail stands.

  “Could you see me wearing this?” Taylor asked, picking up a vintage Alice Cooper T-shirt and holding it against her chest.

  “I could,” Isabel said confidently. “Taylor the Rocker Chick has possibilities. I could write that story. An executive in the prime of her career abandons all to go on the road as the best groupie to ever group.”

  Taylor pointed at her. “And I just made you a millionaire. You’re welcome.” She set the T-shirt down and they walked on. “We’ll need food, don’t you think?”