The Art of Keeping Secrets
Page 21
Taking a quick breath, she swiped a shaky finger across the screen so she could read the message in its entirety:
Hey Flick, hope you had a great day exploring New York. This may be presumptuous of me, but I was wondering, if you’re not too busy, if you’d like to have another drink tonight? I enjoyed your company so much yesterday and thought it would be a pity not to make the most of being in the same city. Jeremy.
She read the message three times, rubbing her lips together and trying to read between the lines or second-guess meaning as she did so. While excited by the thought of seeing Jeremy again, her chest squeezed a little. Meeting another man on her own at night would feel like a betrayal to Seb.
Her finger hovered over the screen as she silently debated the ethics of accepting Jeremy’s invitation. What harm could there be in meeting him for a drink at the hotel bar—a public place? If she stayed in this room reading more stories on online forums, she’d give herself a migraine and have to raid Emma’s painkiller supply. Without allowing herself any more time to deliberate, she replied:
That would be lovely. I’ll meet you in the lobby in half an hour.
Then she crept out of bed and snuck into the bathroom to get ready. Unlike Neve, Flick didn’t have a never-ending supply of dresses to choose from—in fact, she’d only brought one and it was a sundress, perfect for strolling the streets in the summer sun but not an evening outfit. Perhaps she should have packed something from Sofia’s wardrobe. Then again, none of his/her stuff would fit her. And wearing a dress might give Jeremy the wrong idea anyway. Whatever that was! She was too muddled up inside to know.
If someone had told her a month ago that she’d be in New York, without Seb, contemplating what to wear to go meet one of her oldest (male) friends alone at night, she’d have laughed in their face.
Life really could change in an instant.
Eventually, she decided on a pair of black capri pants and a floaty top that Emma and Neve had encouraged her to buy at Macy’s. She supposed it might be called a blouse, but that sounded like something a grandma would wear and this wasn’t grandmarmish at all. Its soft pink, sheer fabric shivered over her skin and would be quite indecent if she didn’t wear a camisole underneath. The silver beading on the front and the batwing sleeves made it far dressier than anything she’d have picked herself.
When she’d dressed, applied a tad more make-up than she normally would and untied her perpetual ponytail, Flick took a step back and checked herself in the mirror. She ran a brush through her hair and then smiled at her reflection. Not bad for someone whose life was falling apart. Another deep breath and she snuck back into the room to grab her bag and room card before she could chicken out of this rendezvous.
Her heart thumped heavily as she hurried down the corridor to the lift and smiled at a family as she stepped into the elevator. The couple, in their thirties she’d guess, had a boy and a girl who looked remarkably like Zoe and Toby when they were little. The thought of her children almost had her exiting the elevator at the next floor down—it didn’t seem right to be meeting a man who wasn’t their dad—but a little voice inside reminded her that if their family unit did crumble, it wouldn’t be down to her.
‘Have a nice night,’ said the male half of the couple as the elevator doors opened to the lobby.
Flick forced a smile. ‘Thanks. You too.’
‘We’re going out for late-night sundaes,’ the little girl exclaimed, her eyes sparkling at the thought and her hand swinging her mum’s arm as she held it.
The woman rolled her eyes. ‘First day of our holidays and these two are too excited to sleep.’
‘Enjoy,’ Flick said, a tear forming in her eye as she wondered what would become of this innocent, full-of-life little girl. Would she grow up to meet the man of her dreams and then discover it was all a lie?
Melodramatic, much? She shook her head and followed the family out of the elevator, jitters jangling inside her as she glanced around for Jeremy. The moment she spotted him, standing only a few feet away and looking just as anxious as her, all her nerves melted away. Her smile relaxed as his eyes met hers and then they started towards each other.
‘Good evening, Flick.’ Jeremy leant forward and kissed her on the cheek, his hand brushing against her arm as he did so. Flutters of an entirely different nature danced in her belly.
‘Hey there,’ she replied, her voice barely more than a whisper.
‘You look stunning,’ he said, ushering her out of the thoroughfare.
‘And so do you.’ It wasn’t a lie. He looked more casual than last night—wearing smart dark jeans and a light-blue polo neck shirt instead of a business suit—but he was no less attractive.
Jeremy grinned at her compliment. ‘Thanks for agreeing to meet me. I couldn’t stand the thought of going home without seeing you again.’
‘Me neither,’ she confessed, her tongue darting out to moisten her lower lip.
‘Shall we get a drink here or would you like to go out?’
‘Here will be great.’ Going out would make it seem more like a date and she wasn’t sure that’s what she wanted this to be. Far more simple if this were just two old friends catching up.
‘Let’s go then.’ He casually linked his arm through hers as they walked in the direction of the bar, which wasn’t as crowded as last night. ‘Our conference ended today; most of the delegates left this afternoon but I decided to stay another few days.’
Was that a last-minute decision? Had he done so because of her? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answers.
‘Oh, how was your speech today?’ she asked, pushing aside the niggling worry that she was heading into dangerous territory.
‘I think it went well, but I don’t want to bore you with all that,’ he said. ‘What can I get you to drink? More cosmopolitans tonight?’
‘Just a glass of white wine, please.’
Jeremy gestured to the table area. ‘Take a seat and I’ll get one.’
As he strode to the bar, Flick looked around for a table. There were plenty to choose from and she didn’t know whether to go with a quiet one in the corner, or somewhere in the middle where they wouldn’t be so isolated. So alone.
You’re over-thinking things again.
Jeremy, being a man, would no doubt laugh himself silly if he could read all the thoughts whirling through her head. To him, this was likely nothing more than a drink between old friends, but here she was reading meaning and implication into every word, every gesture, every smile. She pulled out a seat at the nearest table and plonked herself down, planting her elbows on the table as she waited for his return.
It felt like hours and at the same time only a few seconds before he arrived with a pint of beer and a glass of wine.
‘Here you are.’ Their eyes met and held for a fraction longer than necessary. He did have lovely eyes. They were large pools of brown, with tiny gold flecks that matched the natural highlights in his hair.
‘Thank you.’ She took the glass and lifted it to her lips, relishing the cool liquid as it flowed down her throat.
Jeremy sat opposite her and his knees brushed against hers as he did so. ‘Sorry,’ he smiled apologetically. ‘One of the negatives of being tall is you can’t sit politely under a table.’
She laughed, her apprehension settling again at the thought of him hiding under the table. ‘I don’t remember you being so tall in high school.’
He laughed and shook his head. ‘I had a late growth spurt. Probably a good thing because if I’d been taller they’d have made me join the basketball team and I’m far too uncoordinated for ball sports.’
He had such a confident aura about him that she couldn’t imagine him being bad at anything. ‘You must do some kind of physical activity to keep yourself in such good shape.’ She realised seconds after the words left her mouth how they might be interpreted.
Jeremy took a long, slow sip of beer and then raised his eyebrows. ‘You think I’m in good shape?’
‘Our age?’ he exclaimed. ‘You make it sound like we’ve got one foot in the bloody grave.’
The last few weeks she’d felt that ancient. ‘You know what I mean.’
‘I’m going to ignore the bit about our age and concentrate on the bit about you liking my shape. For the record, I like your shape very much as well.’
It wasn’t so much his words but the way he looked at her when he spoke that had heat rushing to Flick’s cheeks. She took a gulp of wine. This felt so weird—sitting here, semi-flirting with Jeremy—but also exciting, a lovely distraction from the madness that was currently her life.
‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘I can see I’m making you uncomfortable and I don’t mean to. I guess I’m still in shock at the good fortune of bumping into you again and if truth be told, I’m also a little nervous. I say silly things when I’m nervous. I never was that good at talking to girls.’
‘No need to apologise.’ She couldn’t deny she liked the way he looked at her—as if she were sexy, desirable. Seb’s announcement hadn’t only made her question how well she’d ever actually known him, but also fundamental things about herself. Being here with Jeremy made her feel normal again. ‘I’m enjoying your company very much. I always did.’
‘Well, phew.’ Jeremy theatrically wiped his hand against his brow. ‘Let’s start again, shall we? What were you doing before I messaged you tonight?’
She took another sip of wine, buying time as she decided how to reply. The truth? She’d been scouring the internet, unable to stop herself clicking through the stories of others like herself—wives and partners of those who had decided to go through gender transition. Those chat rooms and forums that Emma and Neve had suggested were both comforting and terrifying.
It surprised her how many others she found who were in similar situations. There were even a few men whose wives wanted to be male. She sympathised with the people who’d had no clue their spouse had any such tendencies until suddenly one day they’d announced they identified as the opposite sex. At least she’d had Seb’s cross-dressing as a sign. But did that make her even more stupid?
What kind of woman stays with a man who is more comfortable in a frock and high heels than she is? Was there something wrong with her?
She’d been intimate with her husband thousands of times for crying out loud—shouldn’t she have known something wasn’t quite right? Problem was she’d been with only one guy before Seb and it had been the first time for both of them. What a fumbling, awkward mess that had been. No surprises they’d broken up before ever doing it again.
Some of the women on the sites were surprisingly supportive of their husbands, others were understandably bitter but couldn’t wait to move on, and then some were so utterly judgemental and self-righteous that Flick had almost thrown her iPad across the room in disgust. But what she hated most about the horrible women spouting that gender dysmorphia was unnatural, a mortal sin, blah-blahdy-blah, was that deep down she agreed with them. And she hated herself for it. She wanted to shake some sense into Seb—to tell him to stop being so selfish and take a reality check. How could he have wedding tackle and identify as a woman?
It simply didn’t make any sense at all and she liked her life making sense. Perhaps she was more conventional than she’d always imagined.
‘Flick?’ Jeremy’s concerned voice jutted into her self-assessment. ‘Are you okay?’
She blinked, remembering that he’d asked her a question but having no recollection of what that question was. ‘I’m sorry, what did you say?’
‘I asked, what have you been up to tonight?’
‘Oh, right.’ Could she bring herself to tell Jeremy that her life had all the ingredients for an episode of Jerry Springer? What would he say? Deciding not to hijack a pleasant evening with her marital woes, she told him about Neve instead. ‘Emma and I have been hanging out in our hotel room waiting for Neve, my friend who you met last night, to come back.’
‘Where is she?’
‘Remember how I told you last night we were helping her through a tricky situation? She’s gone to tell the father of her seventeen-year-old son that he has a child.’
Jeremy’s eyes widened and his mouth opened in a What the? expression. He leant closer. ‘Now this sounds like a fascinating story.’
Smiling, she began to tell him how she’d met Neve when their sons had started high school and because they weren’t posh and stuck up like many of the other mums, they’d instantly clicked. She’d known Neve was a single mum, that Will’s father wasn’t on the scene, but she’d never known the whole truth. It was so much easier to talk about Neve’s problems than dwell on her own.
‘So now Will wants to meet his father, Neve has had to face up to her past—tonight she’s going to tell him he’s a dad.’
‘Jeepers.’ Jeremy exhaled and ran a hand through his mussed-up hair. ‘I’d be ropeable if I found out some woman had kept my child from me for that long. This bloke is going to be furious.’
‘How furious?’ Flick said, her tummy twisting at the thought that Neve might be in some kind of physical danger.
‘Pretty damn mad, but I wouldn’t hurt her if that’s what you’re inferring. I’d want to meet the boy, but then again, that’s just me.’
‘Maybe I should have insisted on going with her? Do you think I should call her?’
Jeremy reached across the table and took hold of Flick’s hand. Every organ in her body froze at the connection. She glanced down, looking at the way his long fingers wrapped around her more petite ones. ‘Call her if it will make you feel better. I’ll wait.’
‘Thanks,’ she said, reluctantly slipping her hand out from his and reaching for her phone in her bag. When she tried Neve’s number, it went straight to voicemail. She left a message: ‘Hey, it’s me. Just wondering how your evening is going? I’m here if you need me.’
She sighed and put her phone to rest on the table.
‘What’s your other friend up to tonight?’ Jeremy asked. ‘I should have asked if you wanted to bring her along.’
‘Emma?’ Flick shook her head. ‘She’s sleeping. She’s having these shocking headaches lately and is feeling down because it’s her twin daughters’ birthdays tomorrow and she’s not going to be with them.’ She suddenly realised she knew about Jeremy’s marital status but not if he’d ever had a family. ‘Do you have any kids?’
He shook his head. ‘Not that I know of.’
She chuckled at his subtle reference to Neve.
‘You obviously do,’ he said.
‘Yes, two. Zoe is twenty and getting married to her high school sweetheart in a few months and Toby is in his final year at school.’
‘Wow, twenty’s young to get married. How do you feel about that?’
‘When she first told me, I told her she was being ridiculous and that I forbade her to tie herself to one guy so young, but she rightly told me that she was old enough to do whatever she wanted and would do so with or without my blessing.’
Jeremy’s mouth quirked at the corners and she noticed smile lines around his eyes. ‘Sounds like a feisty, independent young woman.’
‘Yes, she is. Which is why we were so surprised by her engagement. I thought kids these days were happy to live in sin together.’
He let out a half laugh. ‘When you say we, you mean you and your husband?’
Flick’s stomach tightened at the thought of Seb, who was more into all the wedding preparations than she was. Seb, who’d probably rather wear a mother of the bride outfit than a suit. ‘Yes.’
Jeremy’s expression turned serious. ‘You can tell me if it’s none of my business, but when you mentioned your marriage was complicated … what exactly did you mean?’
Him knowing the truth would be mortifying but the little flutters that
sparked within her at his close proximity made her want to tell him part of it. ‘We’ve got some problems. I’m pretty sure we’re going to get divorced.’
Right now, she couldn’t see any alternative.
‘I’m so sorry.’ Jeremy reached across and took hold of her hand again. This time he moved his thumb in ever-so-soft circles against her skin. The feeling rippled from this one spot right through her body.
‘Divorce is never fun,’ he admitted, ‘but I found it was easier to accept when I looked upon it as an opportunity for new adventures.’
New adventures? Like dating? Like sleeping with other men? The thought of dating didn’t fill her with huge excitement, but her nipples tingled at the thought of rediscovering her sexuality. She’d never felt a need for sex the way Neve and Emma spoke about it; was that because she and Seb weren’t doing it properly?
‘That sounds both scary and exciting,’ she said, looking right into Jeremy’s eyes as the tingling feeling moved lower.
He nodded and then spoke in a low voice. ‘You know … at the risk of embarrassing myself, I always had a crush on you at school.’
‘No!’ She couldn’t hide her shock. ‘You didn’t?’
‘I did. Truth is, I still do. You’re a beautiful woman, Felicity, and any man in his right mind would want you.’
His words were a much-needed boost of confidence and warmth spread throughout her body. She stared at the handsome face in front of her and imagined how his five o’clock shadow might feel against her thighs.
‘I’m not in the right state of mind to be starting a relationship right now,’ she said, the words coming not from her head but somewhere else. Somewhere that craved intimacy with a real man, somewhere that wanted to feel desired and normal. Could Jeremy give her a little taste of that right now?