by Leanne Davis
Then, just as she turned to start towards the elevator, there was Nick. She stopped short and so did he. He saw Rob walking with her and his face appeared stony and cold. Why did Nick come down this way? Why was Rob here? Why was she standing between the two of them, frozen? Thoroughly guilt-stricken, her entire body flushed with shame and embarrassment.
There were no victims here, however. Rob and she were separated after Rob’s actions, and Nick knew all of that when he invited her up to his condo the day they first made love. Still, she imagined she was wearing a big “A” for adulterer engraved on her chest. Her biggest problem was she believed she was cheating on both of them by the mere thought of the other’s name.
Rob glanced up and stiffened his back. “Lassiter.”
Joelle was surprised when Rob stepped forward, and nodded his head in acknowledgment to Nick. Nick glanced at her again, then back at Rob. She was too ashamed to look up.
“Rob,” Nick said in acknowledgment, as his eyes came back to her. “Taking some time off, Joelle?”
“Just an hour or so.”
“Take the rest of the day, if you like.”
Joelle snapped her gaze up to his, as his tone was devoid of any inflection. What did that mean? Was he so disgusted with her that he wanted her out of his space for good? What? What did he mean by that?
They started walking, but not before she met Nick’s eyes with sorrow and guilt in her stare. Nick said nothing. His jaw tightened as he nodded silently and passed them. He let her go as he would the janitor, as if he never held Rob by the throat against a wall, and she wasn’t his girlfriend, or walking with her husband in his space, his office building. She turned back to Rob, and glanced over his shoulder, but Nick had already changed direction, and was walking down the hallway, as if none of it meant anything to him.
****
Rob asked Joelle to go visit the house. Just this once, he wanted to show her what it looked like. She finally agreed, feeling too weary to argue, or follow her heart, or muster the anger to fight back. Going along with him just seemed easier. It felt odd. Strange. Foreign. And yet, familiar. Walking back into her house. Her old home. Her life with Rob. It was different. The lawn was mown and all the junk and clutter in the yard were gone. Garbage cans stood neatly by the garage instead of haphazardly being strewn while half overflowing. The front door was replaced by a new, neat, clean red door.
The first thing Joelle noticed was the absence of foul odor. It smelled like nothing. Just a normal room, a normal house; like the air of sanitary people. All the flooring was ripped up, revealing old hardwood floors, that were all mopped, leaving the faint smell of Pine-Sol. She walked down to the living room where most of the furniture had been taken out. A new couch occupied the front and center, along with an entertainment console. All the rest of it must have been junked. The kitchen was nearly sparkling. All the trash was gone and all the dishes were put away. Even the sink was wiped spotlessly clean. “I’m speechless. It doesn’t even smell the same.”
“Kenny and Mitch moved out. It’s just Spike and me now; we did all this. We don’t have parties here anymore.”
Joelle looked all around before her eyes landed on Rob. “Why did you do all this?”
“For you, Joelle.”
She stepped back, her throat tightening. No, he couldn’t do this to her again. He could not blame her. He could not put all this pressure on her shoulders. She shook her head. Nick had taught her something: that Rob couldn’t blame his life on her anymore. “You can’t do that.”
“What?”
“Blame me for whatever does or doesn’t motivate you.”
“All right then, because after hurting you, and losing you, I started to rethink everything. I got worse for a while. Then Spike threatened to leave me. He dragged me to a rehab and made me stay. Said if I didn’t, I’d never see him again.”
“You went to rehab?”
“Yes. It’s slow. One day at a time and all that.”
“What did you go for?”
“Seems I’m an alcoholic.”
“I knew that,” she said quietly.
Rob stepped closer to her and reached a hand out. She thought he meant to touch her face, but instead, his finger followed the chain of her necklace to the pendant hanging there, tucked inside her shirt. He pulled it out and she jerked backwards. He dropped his hands. There was the necklace Nick gave her just after learning it was her birthday. It was a black diamond in a platinum setting, and obviously, like nothing she had ever worn or dreamed about owning before. It probably cost more than her car. She didn’t really know; and she didn’t want to know.
“I see.” Rob raised his stricken eyes to hers. “Nick Lassiter, huh? Can’t say I didn’t expect it. I just hoped–”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice cracking.
“I did everything to drive you away. I did, Joelle. I know that now. What I put you through the last few years was unforgivable. I didn’t hear you, I didn’t see you, even when you were begging to be heard, and seen. I’m the one who is sorry.”
Tears gathered in her eyes, and climbed up her throat. A year ago, she’d have been in Rob’s arms, crying, happy, over the moon with joy to hear him say such things and really mean them, as his green eyes spoke of his sincerity and love. But that was a year ago. Everything was different now, and not just because of Nick, but because of the woman she’d become.
Rob was a year too late.
Still, being there, beside him, felt so familiar to her. He was the first person who made her feel like she had a family, a life, and wasn’t alone. She once loved him with her heart and soul. Now, however, she didn’t know what those feelings had become. Now, there was Nick.
It all culminated into a tumultuous mass that stayed lodged in her gut.
She cleared her throat. “I never thought I’d hear you talk this way.”
“Of course, you didn’t. How could you? I was lost. Over the top. Sinking to a bottomless pit. That’s not your fault. I dragged you far enough in there with me. You got out. And got away, which makes you the bravest person I know. And makes me love you all the more.”
Uncomfortable at hearing his declaration, she glanced away, and looked out the back sliding door towards the recently repaired wood deck. “Why did you ask me here?”
“I wanted you to see this.”
She looked around. “I’m glad I did.”
“I looked up your… boyfriend. He’s a rich fuck, isn’t he?” Rob’s tone was sharp and edgy.
She stepped back. “That’s not why–”
Rob sighed, shaking his head as he ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “I’m sorry. I know. I didn’t mean that it was.”
“He was my friend,” she said finally, after a long silence, as she glanced up at Rob. “He was my friend when no one else wanted to be. When no one else saw me, he clearly did.”
“I didn’t know,” he said quietly.
“I met Nick in front of an Al-Anon meeting I went to. You never knew that, did you? That I tried. I did try, Rob. I just couldn’t keep it up any longer.”
“I didn’t know. I wish I could change what I did to you. All of it. But I can’t compete with your boyfriend, can I?”
“There’s no competition.”
“So I’ve lost you for good? We’re over?”
“I don’t know. I just... I don’t know. I’ve only just started to get my head on straight. I’m beginning to find some clarity in my life, Rob. I can’t return to you and me, or our past, and lose all that.”
“And Nick?”
“He lets me work through everything. When I’m unclear, he lets me be.”
Rob flinched at her candid admission, and waited a long moment. “How about the two of us rebuilding some sort of friendship between you and me? No matter what, I’d like to stay in contact.”
Contact? Or did he want to win her back? She knew how Rob thought. And exactly what he’d do. He was contrite now, and sorry. He was changing; bu
t he was still Rob Williams. His personality, being over the top and very loud, indicated that in no way would he quietly let her go, not if he still wanted her.
“I don’t know how to do that with you,” Joelle said finally. Nick was her best friend, in every sense of the word. She could say and do anything with Nick. Whereas Rob and she had never been friends, and were never honest with each other about even the most mundane of things.
“Saturday is Spike’s birthday. We’re going to the club. Come. Anytime you want. We’re not playing, just enjoying.”
“I thought you were sober.”
“I am. Come see for yourself. I’m learning to party sober.”
“Isn’t that dangerous?”
“You know how I seek danger. It’s my new diversion.”
He would find it a challenge, in a perverse sort of way.
“I have plans.”
“With Nick?”
She looked away. “Yes. He asked me to a business dinner.”
Silence. Rob’s mouth twisted in a sorry excuse for a smile. “Sounds very grown-up.”
“It is,” she said quietly. Nick asked her to go last night, and she was reluctant at first. It was a party more suited to him and Erica: formal and fancy. The people attending would have a lot of money and she would have nothing in common with them because they were nothing like her.
Nick asked her casually, easily, saying if she’d like to come, great, they’d go. If not, he’d skip it without a problem. He had already abandoned so much of his former lifestyle because of her. He didn’t go to the fancy dinners, or downtown cultural events that he used to regularly attend. Instead, he hung out with her, eating dinner at unknown places with plastic menus and deep booths. He tried to give her the “normal” she asked of him.
Now, however, she was trying to indulge his need for high society since he rarely asked it of her.
“Just keep it in mind,” Rob said finally.
“Thank you, Rob. For showing me this. It helps somehow. I care what happens you.”
He nodded and put his hand out to touch her face, but dropped it when she flinched. She stepped back, and he sighed at her inadvertent rejection. “I love you. That hasn’t changed. Will never change. Whatever Nick is to you, I’m still your husband, and I’d like the chance to prove myself worthy of you again.”
****
Nick was stewing. What else could he do? Seeing Joelle with Rob made his stomach churn with acid. He let his mind replay the image of them together over and over again; and no matter how many times he told himself to let it go, he couldn’t. He had to wonder where she was, what they were doing, and what Rob was trying to sell her this time.
Joelle was different now. She wasn’t beaten down, hopeless, or Rob’s doormat who refused to stand up to him anymore. She was a far cry from the girl he first met, who claimed she was happily married to Rob. She wouldn’t fall for his crap again. She knew better now. She was better. Still, it made Nick physically ill to think of her being with Rob. What nerve the bastard had coming here to her work!
And Joelle? She became an instant wreck. Her nerves had her nearly quivering uncontrollably again. She probably had a stomachache, and couldn’t shake her guilt. He knew she’d feel bad, about seeing Rob, pitying Rob, and all the while feeling guilty as well. And worst of all, she’d feel bad about herself all over again.
Bev told him when Joelle came back. He asked Bev to find out from Mrs. Hemmings when and if she returned. She was back only two hours later.
That evening, when Nick knew Joelle would be leaving her office, he met her in the hall. He hoped she’d come and find him on her own, but he should have known she wouldn’t.
“Everything okay?” he asked, coming up from behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and turned, knotting her hands.
“Yes,” she whispered, keeping her eyes down. She couldn’t even face him.
He sighed. Christ, Rob always did such a number on her. “Good. Just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Nick said, turning to go back to his office. He decided to bury himself in the one thing he could control, manage, and succeed at: his work.
She grabbed his arm suddenly. “Nick, wait! I’m sorry he came here. I didn’t have any idea. He said he’d been trying to call me; I didn’t check my voice mail. So he came.”
“You are so bad about your messages,” he said, knowing from experience she wasn’t used to having a cell phone and went days without turning it on or checking her messages. Unlike everyone else he knew, who checked their phones hourly, she seemed unconcerned for days at a time about it. “I didn’t figure you invited him here.”
“Can I explain?”
“Explain what? Talking to your husband? Estranged or not, it’s not over for you two. I know that more than anyone, more than you do even, it seems. So, no, you don’t have to explain your need to talk to him, whether I want you to or not.”
“So, you’re not mad at me?”
“No. I was never mad at you.”
She let out a deep breath, and her shoulders eased. “Thank you for understanding.”
When Nick saw her relieved gaze that she had his approval again, it killed him. She made him feel like he just handed her the world, encrusted with gold, whenever she realized he wasn’t mad at her. He hated when she looked nervous, unhappy, or insecure. And if he had to bite his own tongue off, he would have if it meant he could give her the time, the space, and the understanding she needed. He only waited for the day when she would come to him completely, freely, on her own, with no thought of Rob. He’d wait patiently. He had no other options. He refused to push her and become her rebound. Or become the guy who wanted too much from her when she wasn’t ready.
“Doesn’t mean I like seeing you with Rob. So we’re clear on that. I don’t.”
She glanced around. They were alone. She stepped forward, and closer to him. She seemed to need him, and wanted him to touch her, even though they were in the middle of the office. He didn’t tell her there were enough cameras pointed on them to record their actions from four different angles.
Screw it. He took her face between his hands, looked into her eyes, and kissed her. How long would it take for her to realize the wonderful passion they shared? Why couldn’t she see that they could have everything that she and her husband lost?
****
Joelle was late. Nick waited for her in the lobby of their building. She asked him to wait down there instead of coming to her apartment. He glanced at his watch. Ten minutes late. Joelle was never late. He tapped his foot, growing more concerned as more time elapsed. Was she not coming?
Finally, the elevators dinged, and the doors opened. Nick looked up to see Joelle. He did a double take; then a triple take.
Her hair was gone. She cut it off to her slim shoulders, but worse, it was blonde. It changed all of her facial features and softened her entire look. Her hair was combed and shiny, and the lights seemed to melt in it like molten gold, and shine through it. Her face was just as smooth and beautiful. She was stunning, and as gorgeously made up as Erica ever was. Her dress was perfect, hiding her tattoos, falling softly, over her small figure, showing her curves, her smallness, her femininity. The red color a perfect complement to her new hairdo.
One problem: she didn’t look a thing like Joelle.
She stopped dead in her tracks about five feet away from him. “I look stupid, don’t I? Malibu Barbie goes formal.”
That was, Joelle. He smiled at her deep frown, and her hands on her hips as she waited for his answer. He shook his head. “No. You look beautiful. Gorgeous. Stunning, in fact. I was so stunned, I almost didn’t know it was you.”
“Will I fit in?”
“Tonight? Yes. You couldn’t look more perfect for tonight.”
“Erica knew exactly what she was doing.”
“Yes. She did,” Nick said apprehensively, wondering if that was really such a good thing where Joelle was concerned. Erica might have gone too far in helping Joelle get ready for
tonight.
“So, this evening isn’t normal. That’s our ride,” he said, pointing to the stretch limo, which pulled up to the covered entry at the first wave of his hand.
“Oh good God,” she said softly.
“Do you have a coat?” he asked when he noticed her shivering as the doors opened.
“Yeah. My leather one.”
He took his tuxedo coat off and wrapped her in it. “And you thought you couldn’t wear it?”
“I knew I couldn’t wear it.”
She examined everything inside the limousine. She played with the windows, fingered the soft leather, searched through the ample assortment of bottles and drinks, and even stuck her head out of the moon roof. She made him laugh and notice things he’d gotten overly used to. She made him appreciate the things he long ago had taken for granted. She made him happy simply by being near him. It was too bad that if he told her how he felt, she’d immediately clam up and not be so happy with his company.
They pulled into the hotel where the dinner was being served. Nick took Joelle’s hand in his as he pulled her out, which he literally had to do because she was so reluctant to get out. Her shyness seemed to add pounds of weight to her body. She eventually took a deep breath, and her hand clasped his as if she were in the last stages of childbirth. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Relax, it’s not a firing squad. It’s just a big party, with people wearing pretty, but uncomfortable clothes.”
She nodded and smiled wanly.
At the entrance to the hotel, she gasped and inadvertently jerked back, her head whipping around with awe at the sheer opulence of the room. It was a true ballroom, with huge towering ceilings, four gigantic chandeliers; tables covered in expensive linens, and hundreds of lit candles, flickering from their mounts on the tiered, three-foot high flowered centerpieces. A live band played the soft tones of jazz.
“Joelle?” he asked softly in her ear. She stopped dead at the entrance, forcing people to separate in order to pass around them. Finally, she nodded, and walked with him. Her hands were suddenly clammy. “It’s not nearly as scary as my mother’s house, is it?”