by Lynn Galli
“Not if you’d seen us when we roomed together. By comparison, sure, we look like we get along.”
She shook her head. “You’re just apprehensive. That last girlfriend of yours was a real bitch. I’m sorry, Skye, but she was. She didn’t make time for you, didn’t treat you well, and who wouldn’t go with her girlfriend to her friend’s house to see a new baby for ten minutes? I’ll tell you who, a selfish bitch. You deserve so much better. Someone who puts you first. Someone who thinks of how decisions will affect you before she makes them. Someone who can make long-term work.” Her diatribe shocked me. She hadn’t said anything bad about my ex while I was seeing her. Not that they’d spent much time together, and like she said, once Poppy was born, I was on my own seeing Morgan and the baby. But I didn’t know Morgan considered her dirt.
“Long-term, huh? Name one married couple you know still together and don’t say your grandparents.”
“My aunt and uncle. They met in high school and got married soon after. My sister’s still married.”
“High school sweethearts from a tiny town, right?” I guessed. They probably never left their town. “And your sister got married five years ago. Let’s talk about it in five more.”
“You really don’t think marriages can last?” Her head cocked in interest.
“I’m sorry. I’m being insensitive.” I should stop talking. As casual as Morgan was about being divorced, it still had to hurt being reminded of it.
“You’re not. If I’d known you before I got married I might have seen a few things about the hubby that could have saved me the trouble.”
“But then you wouldn’t have my little angel.”
She gave a snort. “She’s definitely an angel for you. I’m going to make you come over one of these nights when she’s throwing a fit because her favorite jammies are in the wash.”
“She’s an angel,” I insisted because the kid adored me and even mid tantrum she’d burst into squeals when I showed up. All it took was giving her my complete attention and she thought I was the greatest thing since her dinosaur stuffed animal.
“Wish I could help with the vacation thing.”
“Me, too.” I finished whatever it was that Morgan had ordered me for lunch and reluctantly headed back to work.
After a very long afternoon, I barely escaped without screaming at practically everyone on staff. The only remedy for my current temperament was a workout. But not even cycle class could get my mind off the fact that I was supposed to be on my way to New York. We had a dinner with our former housemates planned. Instead, I was cycling up a pretend winding hill, competing against all the other people who got out their work frustrations by cycling for miles.
The instructor yelled out another trite encouragement, and we all lifted up off our seats. I glanced over and nearly fell back against the seat when I caught the woman on the next bike checking out my ass. Seven months ago, before I took my promotion, I might have tried to flirt and asked her out. Today, after the attempt to save two ad sponsors when a particularly awful report on their products aired on one of our shows, I wasn’t up to flirting. I wasn’t up to anything of the kind.
When the class ended, I couldn’t say I was feeling any better. A tad less frustrated, but with the amount of frustration I experienced today, the tiny release wasn’t enough.
“Hi.” The woman next to me climbed off her bike. “Great class, huh?” She had a sleek line to her body with more than enough curves. With a long forehead, her face appeared stretched out. Her brown hair had that trendy shaggy look to it that took far longer to fix every morning than these types were willing to admit.
“Yeah,” I agreed as I wiped down my seat and the handlebars.
“Don’t think I’ve seen you in here before, Red.”
I rolled my eyes. This was one of the reasons I’d started dulling my hair color till it was nearly brown. Red, Cherry, Carrot top, Tomato, Flame, Blaze, Penny, I’d heard them all. And Irish, because apparently only Irish people had red hair.
“It’s been a few weeks.”
“That explains it. I’m new to the area.”
I turned to face her. “Welcome to the neighborhood.”
She gave a breathy laugh that sounded fake, but it might have been my mood influencing that assessment. “I could sure use a local to show me around.” She reached out and drifted her fingers over my hair and down to my jaw. Bold. “We could start with a drink tonight.”
It had been a while since I’d been asked out. There was nothing special about this woman but nothing that turned me off either. Any other night, I’d probably be up for it. I was of the opinion that it didn’t hurt to go out with someone. At the very least it provided an evening’s worth of entertainment. Even if the date went badly, it would still be entertaining months from now when I got to retell the story.
“I wouldn’t be good company tonight.”
Her eyes flicked over me from head to toe. “Some other night?”
“Sure,” I agreed because I couldn’t think of a reason not to. A realistic reason, I should say. A reason with billowy blond curls and a sharp wit who lived on the other side of the world and believed in happily ever after was not a realistic reason.
“Look forward to it, Red.” She sauntered away with a swing to her hips that invited staring. Her words could have meant she was looking forward to it or telling me to look forward to it. If it was the latter, we wouldn’t make it to a second date.
“Who was that bit of hotness?” Blair appeared at my shoulder, wiping the back of her neck with a towel. She was one of my three gym buddies, mostly because she worked out every night so I’d always run into her if I came to the gym. She was also my only single lesbian friend, which came in handy at times. The only other lesbians I knew were married with kids and dogs and trucks, raising property values in the suburbs of D.C.
“She said she was new to the area.”
“She asked you out, didn’t she? Damn, you always get the hot ones.”
I did? That was news to me, and she wasn’t that hot. “She’s dateless tonight. I’m sure you could catch her before she leaves.”
“For real? You’re not interested?”
My head shook. “Have at it.”
“When was the last time you got any?”
“None of your business,” I told her, starting for the door.
“Your bad moods make it my business.”
“Not every bad mood can be solved by a roll in the sack.”
“Mine can.” She winked.
“Must be nice,” I murmured, thinking it would be nice if whatever troubled me could be erased with a little physical release, but it never worked for me. If I take someone to bed when I’m in a bad mood, I just get more frustrated that I can’t get out of my head and enjoy the moment. “What makes you think I’m in a bad mood?”
“You barely said hello and rode your bike harder than I’ve ever seen. Didn’t getting that wedding over with let you relax?”
“Things went sideways at work.”
“Somebody’s makeup fall off on camera?”
“Funny.” People tended to think that because it was television news, it was more television than news. I’d agree that some of the interview programs were more televisiony than newsy, but the others were definitely real news. “I’m heading out.”
“You’re not going to shower?”
“I’ll get one at home.”
“I’m shocked you’re not going back to work.”
So was I. With all the work put on hold for the planning appointments, I’d be playing catchup for quite some time. Probably for the best that my vacation got pushed again. “Not tonight. You better hurry if you’re going to make a play for that woman.”
“I’m too sweaty.”
“You look good.” She did, even sweaty. She wore her dark brown hair in a perpetual ponytail and had matching brown eyes that were always on the hunt. Her wide, full lips looked almost surgically altered. Long legs that were tremendousl
y toned and a flat stomach with muscle definition meant she rarely hurt for dates.
“Thanks, Skye. See you next time?”
“Or the next.” I escaped from the exercise room before the next class. Not showering before I left made me feel a little skeevy, but I didn’t want to chance running into that woman in the locker room. I also wanted an excuse to go home instead of going back to work.
Thirty-Seven
I took the stairs two at a time, getting my excitement out before I opened the door. Tonight we were going to look through the wedding photos. Lots of photos, some with me in them. Not really looking forward to that, but I was curious to see how the rest of Isaac’s work turned out. And eager to be alone with Ainsley again.
“Hi.” I tried for cool after opening the door.
“All right,” Ainsley greeted and stepped inside. She had on long shorts and a blouse that I’d seen twice before but didn’t look any less sexy the third time.
“Did your mum get home okay?” I’d tried to convince her to stay another week, but Elspeth was ready to get home. Last night’s dinner had been a little sad, but she promised to visit again before another fourteen years passed.
“Knackered but happy to be home.” Her eyes stayed on mine for a long beat. Perhaps she thought I’d comment on her mother’s joy at returning to Scotland. Or maybe she thought I didn’t think leaving the U.S. could make someone happy. It could be that now that we weren’t being chaperoned anymore, she thought we’d go back to taking jabs at each other.
“I’m sorry to see her go but glad she made it home safely.”
Her smile was slow but genuine and a touch relieved. “Did you get the pictures?”
“Isaac messengered them over today. Thanks for coming by.”
“I’ve been wanting to look these over.”
The doorbell rang again and I went to get the food I’d ordered. Ainsley’s eyes lit up when she saw what I was carrying. “Chinese takeaway?”
“What better?”
“Mum and I went to the place we used to order from in New York.”
“Oh, rub it in, why don’t you?”
She smiled and nudged my shoulder. “You missed out. Gwen’s husband is a real doozy and Petra’s boyfriend got confused by simple math.”
“Nice to see them, though?”
“They’re not as I remembered either. Gwen used to be so together, and Petra could walk into a test without studying and ace it. Made me angry.”
“Me, too. I felt like I didn’t do anything other than study.”
“You didn’t.”
A month ago, I would have considered that a dig, but she was just stating the facts. I studied a lot, probably over studied, but a full course load and part-time work made free time scarce. “I didn’t have time to waste.”
“I know that now.”
I tilted my head in interest. “Even though I told you then, you’re finally believing it now?”
“You were so young for grad school. I thought you’d been given one of those shortcuts you Americans get with advanced classes in high school so you didn’t have to take university credits. But Gwen told me you skipped a grade in primary and you went to uni year round, full load, and worked jobs.”
“You sound impressed.”
“That’s because I am,” she admitted.
I sank into a dining room chair. I wasn’t sure how to respond to her compliment, so I pulled the containers from the takeout bags to buy some time. Ainsley grabbed two plates and joined me at the table. Silently, we spooned helpings onto our plates and began to eat.
“You’re impressive, too,” I told her. “PhD, leading Scottish history scholar at Edinburgh. I bet you could get hired on at any college out there.”
She blushed and the sight stopped my swallow. I almost choked on the food in my mouth. I’d never seen her blush. Not years ago when the roommates teased her about a girl they thought she had a thing for, not six weeks ago when she first came to town and my retorts must have embarrassed her, not when she was in my arms at the wedding.
“You’ve had offers, I take it,” I guessed the reason for her blush.
“Aye.”
“But you like University of Edinburgh.”
“I do.”
“Over Cambridge? Because they must have offered.”
“They might have done.”
“But Scottish history belongs at a Scottish university?” I guessed again.
“I like living where I live. I like the students and the school. If I wanted a change, I’d look to Glasgow or St. Andrews.”
“They’re lucky to have you.”
“You’re full of charm tonight, aren’t ya?”
I slid the laptop over and booted it up. I was full of something tonight, and it didn’t feel like charm. Best just to get on with our task. “There are over a thousand photos.”
“I wasn’t expecting that many.” Her eyes ran over the four flash drives lined up in front of her.
“We should section them out and cull some if necessary.”
“Won’t they want to see them all?”
“They’ll want at least one good picture of everyone. After that, I don’t think they’ll have time to go through hundreds of photos every time they want to look through their wedding pics.”
“Makes sense. I can identify everyone from our side if you want to make sure Dallas’s family and coworkers are covered.”
I inserted the first flash drive and copied them to my hard drive. The pictures went in order, helping with the narrative they told. First it was the empty church with Morgan’s flowers set up. The guest book, the wedding placard with their names not the fake one with our names. Dallas and her sisters getting ready in the dressing room with the hairdressers. Several photos of Colin and his cousin and friend adjusting each other’s ties. Colin and his dad and Colin and his aunt and uncle. I clicked again and Ainsley appeared. A close up of her looking down, one hand pressed against her hip and the other reaching for her jacket as she emerged from the bathroom where she’d changed. The next photo she looked up directly into the camera, surprise and wonder on her face.
An audible breath escaped from me before I could stop it. “He surprised you, yeah?”
She chuckled. “I didn’t know they’d let him into the room. They probably bribed him to see if he could startle me.”
“Boys.” I shook my head in exasperation but took note of the photo number. I’d be looking at that one again. “Should we keep looking through them all first or start marking the ones to segment into the bride or groom categories?”
“Let’s keep on. If we get bored, we’ll start marking them.”
“We don’t have to go through all of them tonight.” My eyes drifted to the other flash drives. He turned over every shot he took and it would probably take hours even if we only spent a few seconds on each photo.
“I’ve got another lecture tomorrow night.”
My brow rose. “You added another?”
“George Washington University.”
“What time?” The question came automatically.
“Why?”
I should have known she’d question me. “You can’t just tell me?”
She smiled and shook her head.
“Fine.” I let out a bothered sigh. “I’d like to be there.”
“Ya like Scottish history that much, do ya?”
“I could.”
“I’ll make sure to add the section on the Isle of Skye.” That sounded vaguely dirty, and I wasn’t entirely sure she didn’t mean it that way.
I continued to click through the photos. Dallas was caught at the top of the stairs with her father kissing her cheek. The first one of me in my dress had me staring at the laptop screen for a long moment. I’d been so used to seeing myself with brown hair in suits or boring business clothes that I almost didn’t recognize the dressed up, redheaded, almost pretty me. After five seconds I realized that I needed to move to the next photo before Ainsley teased me about star
ing at myself. I glanced over to find her eyes glued to the screen. Warmth spread through my chest and I hurriedly clicked to the next picture. Thankfully they were all of Dallas and Colin through the ceremony.
I barely paused on the picture of Ainsley and me walking back down the aisle together. I’d study that one later. Several photos of the wedding party getting ready to take the posed pictures. These candid shots were more appealing than the posed ones in my opinion, but I was now convinced that Isaac could have a second career as a wedding photographer easily if he wanted.
My breath started coming in shorter and shorter wisps as I clicked through each coupling until I got to the one I knew would be there. Ainsley and I, chest to chest, staring into each other’s eyes, daring each other to step back. She made a small gasping sound as I let out a nervous laugh. As much as I wanted to keep looking at Ainsley’s expression in the picture, I clicked to the next one that showed us posed with our heads turned toward the camera but most of our bodies still facing each other. I pushed out another breath knowing that once we got through all these wedding party photos, I could pause on the ones of Ainsley without having to see me in the photos.
“He did a good job,” she said, her voice tight. “Colin and Dallas should be happy that he captured all these.”
I nodded but kept silent because my throat was still dry and I’d sound more than a little tight. I finally got what Dallas and Morgan were teasing me about. The look we’d shared in the candid photo had lasted seconds in real life but he’d captured it nonetheless. To say it sizzled would have fallen short.
We progressed through the rest of the drive which got us through the seated dinner. Isaac must have spent the time taking photos of everyone while they were seated. The next drive started the first dance and the dance with their parents. I felt my fingers start to shake as I remembered what came next. If he’d managed to capture one second of heat between us in front of the church, I could only imagine what a candid shot of us dancing together would be like. I hoped that he’d only gotten one picture of us at the start when we hadn’t quite gotten so close. I was torn between wanting to flee to the bathroom to let her continue through these photos on her own and wanting to see the pics and her reaction. I clicked onto the next and saw Savannah and Logan dancing together.