Pas de Deux

by M. J. Duncan

  “Thank you.” Mallory ducked her head and smiled. “Bathroom is there”—she pointed to the open door beside her study—“and the main living areas are this way,” she continued as she led them into the brightly-lit, open-concept reception room. While she would have much preferred her front door open to this space, she could not fault the architect for the floor plan when it left the main living areas on this side of the building where large, knee-to-ceiling windows flooded the apartment with light.

  “Oh wow…” Addison breathed.

  Mallory chuckled softly at the open appreciation in her voice. “I’m glad you like it,” she murmured as her eyes swept over the slate blue rug that anchored the main seating area and the soft, ivory sofas and chairs that framed its edges. Gray and blue throw pillows added splashes of color to the furniture, and she was relieved to see that nothing was too terribly out of place.

  She hadn’t exactly been expecting to bring company home with her from Covent Garden when she had rushed out the door earlier that morning.

  “It’s amazing. Totally not what I was expecting from the street, either.”

  “That’s what I thought when I first saw it, too.” Mallory smiled.

  “What is that a picture of?” Addison pointed to the oversized black and white print centered between two windows behind the far sofa.

  “A cello, actually.” Mallory dragged a hand through her hair as she looked at the print in question.

  The bridge of the instrument was in sharp focus—the heart-shaped cutout in the center of the maple standing in stark relief to the bright white wood—and everything else was a black or gray blur. Gwen had given it to her for their first anniversary and, despite having always loved the shot, she had been adamant that it never see the light of day in London. She had scoured the local galleries for over six months looking for a piece of art to fill the spot where the picture now hung but nothing she found fit her as well as that print, and so one night, after half a bottle of wine, she pulled it from its packing box and leaned it against the wall to see if she could handle seeing it every day.

  The reminder of what she had lost was a constant hurt there for a while but, eventually, that hurt eased until finally only a wistful hollowness was left.

  It was only then that she decided to hang the print in the spot it seemed to be made for. Will had called her a glutton for punishment the first time he had seen it up on the wall, but she loved the picture as much as she had once loved Gwen, and most of the time she could look at it without seeing anything but the wood and the strings and the light and the shadows.

  Two months later, of course, she had seen that damned YouTube video and had taken the picture down the moment she had gotten home. It spent the summer in the back of the guest room closet while she’d been touring—relegated from sight despite the fact that nobody was even in the apartment to see it—and she had only pulled it out again and returned it to its spot on the wall after their costume fitting the week before.

  The blank wall had been driving her crazy anyway, and seeing the print every time she entered the room was a perfect reminder of why she could not allow herself seriously consider acting on her developing feelings for Addison. Shadowed wood and sharp strings seemed to slice into her every time she laid eyes on the picture, reminding her of harsh words and righteous anger and dark blue eyes filled with tears.

  She had thought she had been giving Gwen what she wanted. Had thought Gwen wanted the distance that had developed between them, so she hadn’t pushed for more. She hadn’t even thought to ask for it, honestly. She had known, from their very first date, that Gwen was so far beyond her league that she had contented herself with what time and affection she had been given. Now, of course, she knew that she had been wrong. That Gwen had wanted more from their relationship just as much as she had. And that, perhaps, all the hurt and the anger and the heartbreak could have been avoided if they had only just talked to one another, but they hadn’t, and she was still trying to pick up the pieces.

  “A cello?” Addison stepped closer to inspect the photograph. She didn’t seem to register the way Mallory hummed softly in confirmation, which made Mallory think it hadn’t been a question so much as a statement, and she turned to her a moment later with a smile. “I love it. But why not a violin?”

  “Because the woman who took that photograph is a cellist.” Mallory shrugged. Not wanting to face further questions regarding the picture’s origin, added, “And, honestly, stringed instruments are basically the same—just different sizes—so…”

  “That makes sense,” Addison agreed as she turned back toward the picture. “It really is cool, though.”

  “I think so, too,” Mallory murmured. She cleared her throat softly and, in a desperate bid to change the subject, said, “Will and Siobhan should be here soon, I’d imagine. I know we stopped for smoothies after rehearsal, but would you like something to drink or snack on?”

  “Food,” Addison half-moaned. “Please.”

  Mallory smiled and waved a hand toward the dining room that connected the lounge and the kitchen. “Right this way.”

  Compared to the kitchen in her loft back in Los Angeles, this one was practically a closet, but it was a well-appointed closet with restaurant grade stainless steel appliances, custom hardwood cabinetry that was painted a medium charcoal, and gleaming marble countertops. “Pantry is here,” she said as she opened the door to a tall cupboard nearest the dining room, “and you are more than welcome to raid the fridge as well. I’m not sure what you’re in the mood for, but please help yourself to whatever you’d like.”

  Addison practically swooned as she made her way to the pantry. She pressed a quick kiss to Mallory’s cheek and smiled as she pulled away and murmured, “You are a saint.”

  Mallory closed her eyes to try and stem the blush she could feel threatening, and let out a relieved sigh when the buzzer for the front door blared through the apartment. “I’ll bet that’s Will and Siobhan. I’ll leave you to this and go let them up.”

  “You’re sure you trust me with a cupboard full of food?”

  Mallory arched a brow and tipped her head in a small nod. “For now.” She smiled at the way Addison’s eyes sparkled with laughter and, grateful for the lighter mood, teased, “Abuse that trust, however, and you’ll be forever barred from my kitchen.”

  “Harsh!” Addison laughed, clasping her shirt over her heart. “But an effective threat all the same. I’d hate to never be invited back, so I won’t eat you out of house and home.” The buzzer rang again, and she smiled. “Go let them in. I’ll be good here.”

  “I’ll be right back,” Mallory murmured. She muttered under her breath when the buzzer rang two more times in quick succession and, in a show of annoyance, did not answer the ring but simply entered the code to unlock the street door. A couple minutes later a light knock landed on her front door, and she pulled it open with a tight smile and her right eyebrow cocked in playful challenge. “May I help you?”

  “Yeah, take this.” Will shoved a reusable tote with four bottles of wine in it into her arms, which allowed him to readjust his grip on a larger bag that was overflowing with groceries as he pushed past her. “Now, get out of my way so I can go put this in the kitchen before I drop it all over your floor.”

  Siobhan laughed as she followed him inside, though she paused and pulled her into a quick hug. “How did your rehearsal go?”

  Mallory sighed. “It ran long, of course, but it went really well. We only just got back not too long ago.”

  Will stopped at the end of the hall and turned to her with a grin. “We?”

  Mallory sighed. She had talked herself out of inviting Addison to this little thing more times than she could count over the last week, convinced that Addison had to have better things to do with a free Saturday night than spend it with her and her friends who were all more than a decade older than her. But then Addison had asked if she was free to do something since neither of them had a performance that evening w
hen they had been finally released to the showers—her eyes warm and her smile soft and hopeful—and the invitation had slipped from her lips before she could rein it in.

  “Yes, we,” Mallory murmured, a soft, fluttery feeling settling in the base of her throat as she remembered the way Addison had beamed at her as she accepted, her eyes bright and radiating joy. She had looked so utterly pleased by the idea of spending the rest of the afternoon together that Mallory couldn’t even find it in herself to pay attention to the little voice in the back of her head that warned all of this was a mistake.

  She knew it was a mistake, but it was apparently one that she was making, anyway.

  “Just so we’re clear, we are talking about the beautiful Ms. Leigh—correct?” Will asked.

  Mallory waved a hand toward the kitchen. “She’s raiding my pantry, if you must know,” she explained as they made their way into the lounge.

  “Is she, now? I thought ballet dancers existed on salad and protein shakes or something like that.”

  “Some do,” Addison drawled, smirking at the oh shit look Will shot her as she sauntered into the reception room with a bag of pita chips and a container of roasted red pepper hummus. “But I actually have an incredibly fast metabolism, so I need way more calories than that. Hello again, by the way.” She waved the food at Mallory. “Can I open these?”

  “Go right ahead, darling,” Mallory murmured with a smile. She saw Will and Siobhan share a look at the endearment, and she barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She had caught herself using it more frequently when they were together and, though she had tried to make a concerted effort to stop, apparently her subconscious liked the way Addison would soften at the sound of it, her gaze warm like melted chocolate

  She hadn’t meant it like that—except, if the increasing presence of brown eyes and pink lips and long, long legs in her dreams meant anything, there was a part of her that absolutely did—and she sighed as she cocked a challenging brow at them. “What did you bring for dinner?”

  “Steak. Mushrooms. Salad. Pilaf.” Siobhan tilted her head at the bag in Will’s hand. “And a Banoffee pie for dessert.”

  “Or we could just have the pie for dinner and call it a day,” Addison suggested with a grin.

  Siobhan smiled at Addison. “Oh, I like you.”

  “That’s all it takes to get into your good graces, huh?” Addison grinned. “And here I thought I’d have to work a lot harder for it.”

  “Nah, we’re a pretty simple lot,” Will replied as he took the bag from Siobhan and started for the kitchen. “Besides,” he added, throwing a devilish look in Mallory’s direction, “you pretty much won us over just by making that one smile again.”

  “I do know where you live…” Mallory threatened with a playful scowl.

  “And I will totally let her in to torture you,” Siobhan chimed in with a laugh. She added in a hushed aside to Addison, “But he isn’t wrong.”

  “I hate both of you,” Mallory grumbled, throwing her hands in the air in defeat. It was hard to inject too much frustration—feigned or not—into her tone, though, because of the way Addison was smiling at her.

  “No, you don’t,” Siobhan sing-songed as she looped their arms together and she started to drag her toward the kitchen. “Was the orchestra able to keep up with you two?”

  Mallory glanced back at Addison and smiled at the way her expression clearly said, not really. “For the most part. I had to work in quite a few changes to tempo and whatnot so I didn’t stab Addy in the face or anything while we’re dancing, so it’ll just take a while for all those changes to be found and noted on their music.”

  “But you’ve got the whole thing sorted?” Will asked as he set the bag of groceries onto the counter beside the sink and began pulling out everything they had brought over.

  “All forty-four minutes and thirty-two seconds of it,” Addison confirmed with a pleased smile as she set the hummus container on the counter.

  “I’m impressed,” Siobhan said as she reached over to pry the lid off the hummus. “I mean, we both thought it would take longer than two months to get an entire ballet put together.”

  “It should have.” Addison nodded as she popped open the bag of pita chips. “But that one there”—her lips curled into a soft smile as she looked over at Mallory—“is just too perfect for words.”

  The warmth in Addison’s expression sent Mallory’s pulse racing, and she shook her head as she argued, “Hardly.”

  Addison laughed. “As far as I’m concerned you are, so just deal with it, Collingswood.”

  Siobhan chuckled and held up a hand to head off the reprimand she knew Mallory was poised to direct her way. “I’m just going to get myself a glass of wine, and then I’ll go up to the roof and start getting the barbecue warmed up. Will, can you prep the steaks? It looks like these girls are hungry.” She looked at Mallory and added, “Did you get a new propane tank?”

  “First thing this morning,” Mallory confirmed. It had been a pain to carry up to the roof, too, but she hadn’t been willing to suffer Will’s teasing if she’d left it in the entry downstairs for him to carry up.

  “Roof?” Addison asked.

  Mallory nodded. “It’s honestly the reason I decided to buy this flat. I had been looking for something more traditional—your more standard townhouse, if you will, with a front stoop and perhaps a small section of wrought iron fencing between a courtyard garden and the sidewalk—but the windows here and the roof were enough to convince me that this was home.”

  “It’s a shame the weather’s rubbish,” Siobhan said as she uncorked the bottle. “I do love sitting up there. Who else would like a glass of wine?”

  “Me,” Will answered.

  Mallory glanced at Addison and, when she smiled and nodded, chimed in, “And both of us, as well. Cheers.”

  “Here you are, lovelies,” Siobhan declared as she slid two glasses their way. “Right, well, I’ll be back in a jiff, then.”

  “Can I go up and have a look?” Addison asked.

  “Of course.” Mallory nodded. “Do you want to just go with Siobhan, or would you prefer I come along as well?”

  Addison smiled and dipped her head in the briefest of nods as she murmured, “Would you?”

  “Of course, darling,” Mallory whispered.

  “You birds have fun being all manly with the barbecue. I’ll just stay here in the kitchen,” Will dismissed them with a grin.

  “You do that.” Siobhan shook her head when Will winked at her and picked up the bottle of wine to pour what little bit remained in the bottle into his glass. “Good thing we brought four bottles…”

  Will nodded and took a long drink. “Absolutely.”

  “Come on,” Mallory chuckled. “Let’s go get the grill warmed up.”

  “Do you barbecue often?” Addison asked as they made their way down the hall toward the stairs that led to the rooftop terrace.

  “Only when Siobhan comes over,” Mallory admitted, lifting her right shoulder in a small shrug. “No matter how many times I’ve tried to get the hang of the blasted thing, everything I try to cook comes out either dangerously raw or burnt, so I’ve given up.”

  “I could teach you, if you’d like,” Addison offered.

  “Good luck with that,” Siobhan chuckled. “I’ve tried to teach both her and Will, and they’re both complete disasters when it comes to cooking over an actual fire.”

  There was no point trying to argue since Siobhan spoke only the truth, but Mallory couldn’t resist pointing out, “At least I didn’t almost set myself on fire.”

  “That is true.” Siobhan nodded as she pushed the door at the top of the stairs open and stepped outside. “Though, to be fair, sometimes I think he did that on purpose so I would take over the barbecuing and he could lounge about watching footy.”

  “I wouldn’t put it past him, honestly,” Mallory agreed with a laugh. “But, he’s also rather hopeless on a regular stove as well, so…”

&n
bsp; “He’s so lucky he’s cute,” Siobhan muttered. She smiled when Addison laughed and shook her head as she hiked a thumb over her shoulder. “Anyway, I’ll just go get everything warmed up.”

  Mallory shook her head fondly as she watched Siobhan make her way toward the outdoor kitchen that didn’t see nearly enough use between London’s typically dreary weather and the symphony’s schedule. She could have done without the teasing, but it really was nice to be back with her good friends. She had been friendly enough with a handful of people from her section back at LA Phil to go to lunch or dinner or whatnot, but Gwen had been her only close connection, and she hadn’t realized until she was back in London how much she missed Will and Siobhan’s company. They were annoying at times in a way she imagined siblings would be, but they loved her as much as she loved them, and finding her way back to them was one of the few bright spots in her life over the last year and a half.

  She cleared her as she turned to Addison, and cocked a brow as she tilted her head and murmured, “So, this is the rooftop terrace.”

  “You don’t say,” Addison teased, her eyes crinkled with her smile as she bumped their shoulders together. “It’s wonderful. And so quiet!”

  “On the rare sunny day, this is my haven from the world,” Mallory shared.

  “I can see why. Can I—” Addison waved at the shorter section of wall at the back of the terrace. The majority of the walls that framed the rooftop patio were a good ten feet, which were perfect for providing just the right amount of privacy, but there was one little section that was backside was a much less claustrophobic six.

  “Go right ahead.” Mallory followed Addison across the terrace as far as the outdoor kitchen where Siobhan was fiddling with the dials on the grill, and placed her hands on the black quartz that bore the telltale spots of dried raindrops. It was chilly but dry, at least, she thought as she watched Addison brace her hands on the top of the wall and push herself up to see over it.

  “She’s lovely,” Siobhan murmured, and Mallory was grateful that she kept her voice low.

  “She is,” Mallory agreed just as softly, her gaze never straying from Addison.