As if reading my mind, my mother said, “Do you remember that one Thanksgiving when you got all over Scott for not helping?”
I grinned. “I do. I believe my angle was ‘He ate three times as much as I did. Why do I have to wash his dishes?’ Something like that.”
“That was it. You were, oh, twelve or so.” Her smile was wistful. “And he did end up doing the dishes.”
“Yeah, that went in my win column.”
“I just wish you kids didn’t have win columns,” Mom said, softening it with a wink.
“They’re shrinking,” I told her.
“I’m so glad.” The look on her face, the mixture of relief and happiness, did something to me then. Something inside me…eased. I don’t really know how to explain it other than to say I felt like, in that moment, I finally understood that constantly competing with my brother was just…unnecessary. Don’t get me wrong, I’d never stop ribbing him about the Alicia thing…but other than that…
We sat down to eat about twenty minutes later and it was great, as always. I didn’t say it out loud, but it was always best when Scott was there, too.
Maybe I should say it out loud. I’d work on that.
There was a part of me, though, that harbored a sadness, a disappointment that Alicia wasn’t sitting in a fifth chair we would’ve brought up from the basement. While I still believed that asking her to meet my family had probably been premature, it didn’t keep me from being bummed out that she’d said no, that her work—or whatever she was doing—was more important. And yes, I did realize I was being slightly irrational and more than a little whiny about it, but that didn’t change the way I felt. I adored Alicia. I just wanted her here because of that.
Scott bit into a drumstick, wiped his chin, then chewed. “So, Lace-Face,” he said, as though privy to my thoughts. “You seeing Alicia now?”
His question came out of nowhere, but because of my train of thought, didn’t really feel that way. Still, I gave him a look as my mother said, “Wait. What?”
I narrowed my gaze at Scott. “Why do you ask that?”
“Because I ran into Leanne the other day, and she said she thinks you are.”
I made a mental note to kill Leanne next time I saw her. Or at least maim. I blew out a breath. “I guess seeing is the right word.”
Scott’s brow furrowed. “As opposed to?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Dating? Girlfriends? Commitment?”
Scott nodded like he knew what I meant. I was pretty sure he had a clue, as it was rare for him to get past “seeing” anybody. It had only happened twice in his life, and the second time, he’d gotten his heart broken. Although the expression on his face was…different somehow, like he had thoughts on his mind he wasn’t expressing. I’d have to ask him about it later.
“This is the girl from the office next door?” my mother asked, all ears and curiosity. “The one you said you were kissing last time we had dinner?”
I nodded slowly. “Yes. That one.”
“You should bring her to dinner.”
“You should,” Scott agreed and shot me a wink, his face back to its normal, annoying self.
“Maybe.” I shoved a bunch of salad in my face so I could stop talking about it. It was funny, though. I was sure that Scott thought bringing Alicia to Sunday dinner with Mom and Dad would be the last thing in the world I’d want to do. Which was why he brought it up: to mess with me. Stupid brothers. What he didn’t know was how much I’d love to bring her. She and my dad could talk business. My mom would love her manners and sense of humor. My brother would love her—never mind about that. My point was, I could totally see her sitting there with us and completely fitting in, like she was meant to be there.
Of course, I kept all of this to myself and almost wept with relief when my father changed the subject to the Phillies.
Thank God for the Phillies!
* * *
By Sunday evening, I had to admit that Alicia’s sporadic contact was starting to weigh on me. I didn’t hear from her at all on Saturday—and that troubled me. So I occupied myself. I took Leo for a walk, started a new novel I’d been wanting to read since Christmas, I even went to a movie by myself. And when I was home, I kept my phone away from wherever I was sitting, finding that if it wasn’t within easy reach, I checked it much less often.
By the time I got home from my parents’ house on Sunday, I decided I’d exercised enough care so as not to be considered pushy, and I typed out a text.
I’ve missed you this weekend. Get done what you needed to?
I sent it off, set the phone down, and tried hard—and unsuccessfully—to turn my mind to other things. The reply didn’t come for nearly an hour.
Hi. Things are fine. On my way home.
Okay. A less than personal response, sort of…heavy, but I was all right.
Wanna stop by? I can feed you. My finger hovered over the Send button as I analyzed whether that sounded too needy. Deciding it wasn’t, I sent it.
Another ten minutes went by.
Tired. Just need to sleep. Thanks, though.
The utter lack of emojis also bothered me, as Alicia was good at announcing the mood of her texts with faces so there’d be no confusion. In this exchange, there were none. No smileys. No frowns. Not even the sleepy face with the little Z’s. Just words. And not many. Not very personal, not at all.
I sent my own smiley and left it at that. There was so much more I wanted to text, to say, and I actually dialed the first three numbers before instinct warned me that calling would be a mistake—assuming she’d even answer, which I doubted. In the end, I put the phone on the kitchen counter, curled up on the couch with Leo, and cleared a couple of shows off my DVR. I didn’t look at the phone again until nearly eleven, when Leo and I headed up to bed.
Didn’t matter anyway, as there was nothing on it.
* * *
I failed to anticipate one issue that came with my workload easing up as May strolled slowly along: the fact that, with less work to occupy my days and my mind, I had lots and lots of time to dwell. To wonder. To overanalyze, which I excelled at. I had barely heard from Alicia on Monday and Tuesday. I’d texted her a good morning. I got a good morning back about two hours later, but nothing more. I’d texted her good night just before I turned out my light and tossed and turned for a few hours. It wasn’t until the next morning that I’d seen her responses, both very generic good nights, both at ridiculous hours of the morning—one at 1:37 a.m., the other at 3:17 a.m. Alicia obviously wasn’t sleeping any better than I was.
On Wednesday, I took a different tack, simply doing my best to focus on work. When Alicia was ready to talk to me, she would. The thumping bass beating through my wall didn’t help my chill, though, and I was seriously considering stomping next door to give Brandon a piece of my mind when a knock on my door caused a surge of hope to swell through my chest. I knew Alicia wasn’t in—a quick glance out my window showed me the continued lack of baby blue BMWs in the parking lot—but I felt that hope anyway, which just made me feel worse. I blew out a breath.
“Come in.”
“Hey, Lace-Face.”
I tried to hide my surprise as Scott came in and shut the door behind him. Leo lifted his head from his spot in a sunbeam, and his little nub of a tail wagged three times before he apparently decided he was too comfortable to get up and say hello. Instead, Scott squatted down to scratch his head, which was also a bit out of character for him.
“It’s too late for lunch and too early to go home,” I said, watching him as he took a seat. “What are you doing wandering around?” Then I remembered he was a client of Alicia’s. “Oh. Got a meeting next door?”
“Not a scheduled one,” he said, but didn’t meet my eyes. “No.”
I waited for him to elaborate. He didn’t. He looked out the window. He picked up the apple-shaped stress ball I had on my desk and squeezed it in his big hand a couple times, then set it back down. His attention moved to a framed
photo of me and my mother, which he’d seen a million times, but still picked up, looked at, set down.
I couldn’t take it anymore. “What’s going on, Scott?”
He looked up at me as if I’d surprised him, and I was pretty sure he was about to tell me nothing was going on. Instead, he surprised me by chewing on the inside of his cheek and looking out the window again. It hit me in that moment. The lack of eye contact. The fidgeting. The nibbling. He was nervous.
“What’s up, big bro? Talk to me,” I said, softening my tone.
I saw his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed, but I waited him out. One thing I knew about my brother: when he was feeling vulnerable—and he was; that much was obvious to me—you couldn’t rush him. He’d talk when he was ready. And he must have wanted to, otherwise, why come see me like this?
“I like somebody,” he said, then stopped, as if that explained everything.
I waited a couple beats before saying, “Okay,” and drawing the word out.
He met my gaze then, and I could see that vulnerability in his eyes. It startled me a bit. Even though I was expecting it, it was still a very unusual emotion for my big brother. Seeing him uncertain about himself in any way was almost foreign to me.
“I mean, really like her.”
I nodded. “Does she know?” I knew better than to blurt out the question of who the object of his affection might be. In the back of my mind, I prayed it wasn’t Alicia.
His sandy brow furrowed above those killer eyes of his. “I’m not sure. Maybe?”
“So, you haven’t told her? You haven’t asked her out or anything?”
He shook his head and grimaced.
“Do you think she likes you, too?”
He inhaled and let it out slowly, apparently giving the question some deep thought. “I think it’s possible.”
I folded my hands on the desk in front of me as I leaned forward and squinted at him. “Scott. You date all the time. You’re a master at the art of seduction. Why does this have you in such a—” I stopped, the information sinking in even though he’d already said it. “Oh,” I said, in a long, slow exhalation. “You like like her.”
“That’s what I said.”
“Well, I know, but…you say that a lot.” I gave him a smile so he wouldn’t think I was mocking him. I gave him credit for reining in his exasperation with me, instead focusing on the matter at hand.
He sat forward on the edge of his seat. “This girl…” His face went all dreamy in that moment, and I widened my eyes at him.
“Oh, my God, who are you?”
His smile was weak as he shook his head. “I know, Lacey. I know. That’s why I’m here. I don’t know what to do.”
“Can you tell me who it is?”
“It’s Gisele. Next door.”
He caught me off guard by being so forthcoming, but I recovered quickly. “Oh, Scott. She’s awesome.” I had a mix of emotions but tried to stay positive. I liked Gisele. A lot. And I knew my brother. I didn’t want either of them to get hurt.
“I know, right? She’s been in on most of the meetings I’ve had with Alicia and she’s just…” His face lit up then and he started talking about her and I just watched. In awe. He talked about her smile and her intelligence and her eyes and her style and her creativity and he just went on and on until I finally held up a hand.
“Okay, okay, I get it. She makes the world go ’round. She’s the sun and the moon and the stars. She’s chocolate ice cream with sprinkles. She’s a Ferrari.”
He nodded his agreement, his expression telling me he was dead serious.
Once I saw that, I gave him the simple, obvious advice, the only advice I had. “So ask her out.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“Okay.”
We stared at each other, and I chuckled internally at the weirdness of this entire conversation. After a few beats, I said, “That’s it? That’s what you needed? Me to tell you to do the thing you already wanted to do anyway?”
He shrugged, his eyes wide with the lack of reasoning. “I guess so.”
We looked at each other some more before we both burst into laughter, which started light and then worked its way into full-on belly laughs. Leo looked up at us in apparent confusion, which only made us laugh harder. Finally, Scott stood and I followed suit.
“Okay,” he said, finger-combing his hair. “I’m gonna do this.”
I walked around the desk, reached up, and straightened his red tie. “Well, you’ve got the power tie going, so I’d say your chances are pretty good.”
“You think?”
“I do.”
“Thanks, Lacey.” The room hung heavy with the unsaid.
Then again, I understood it all without it being said. Words? Unnecessary. This was my brother. I gave him a nod. “You’re welcome.”
He kissed my forehead, and I watched him go. He was seriously good-looking in his navy suit, all broad shoulders and commanding posture, and he radiated confidence, even though I knew better. Scott and I, we had our issues—it was true. Lots of them. Some of them pretty significant. I could count on one hand the number of times he’d sought advice from me…and I’d use about three fingers. But in that moment, I was feeling so much about him: worry, affection, exhilaration, excitement, love, even a little bit of envy. He glanced back at me, and I gave him a thumbs-up as he shut the door.
Scott and Gisele.
“God, they’d make beautiful babies, Leo.” My dog lifted his head to look at me, and I was sure he agreed. “Right?”
I sat back down at my desk, glancing out the window again to look for Alicia’s car, which was still absent, but then I forced myself to put her out of my mind for the time being. Instead, I focused on sending good thoughts to the office next door.
Gisele would make a stellar sister-in-law…
Chapter Fifteen
By Thursday, I was frustrated beyond belief. I’d gotten a total of six texts from Alicia all week. Not one of them was longer than five words. Not one of them felt the least bit personal. Not one of them contained any sort of explanation or apology for her basically dropping off the face of the earth. She hadn’t shown up to the office at all, as far as I could tell. I even entertained the idea of driving to her house to demand that she tell me what the hell was going on when the horrifying realization that I’d never been to her house, and had no idea where it was, hit me full force and made me feel that much crappier.
I’d sent her a text last night that was a bit more than just a good night. Instead of focusing on how much I missed her—and telling her as much—I went in a different direction. I’d told her that I was worried about her. Was she okay? Could I do something to help? It was all true. My feelings were everywhere. I missed her. I knew she didn’t owe me an explanation. She didn’t owe me anything. But I was worried. It had been over a week since her late-night, unannounced appearance at my door. Over a week since she’d made love to me on my own couch and left with barely a word. Had that been good-bye? I was genuinely concerned, so I texted to tell her so.
This morning, there was nothing. No response at all.
I sat on my bed and cried.
Just before noon, I took Leo for a walk at the Schuylkill Banks and even managed to keep him from getting too muddy. The day was gorgeous—sunny and warm with a gentle breeze, and I simply wanted some fresh air, some time outdoors to keep me from imploding while I sat in my office. My office that butted up next to the office of the woman I cared way too much about (a fairly recent realization) and who was making it pretty clear she didn’t feel the same. I mean, I could be wrong, but the fact was, she seemed to be avoiding me like the plague. Honestly, what was I supposed to think at this point?
When Leo and I returned from our walk, however, my feelings of being refreshed and maybe a bit more at ease evaporated in an instant when I entered my reception area and couldn’t see Mary over the stack of boxes.
I stood and blinked at th
em.
“It’s okay,” I heard Mary say, and she was right. Having recently told UPS it was fine to deliver packages here if Just Wright was locked, I had no reason to be upset. “They’re coming to get this stuff in a few minutes.”
I shook my head with a sigh and let it go. Yes, the chaos grated on me. But the chaos paled in comparison to simply doing something nice for Alicia and her business. I unclipped Leo from his leash and he wove his way around the boxes to Mary, probably hoping for some of her lunch. Something Mexican, judging from the smell.
“Mary, I mean it this time. Don’t give him any,” I warned her as I went into my office.
I did my best to throw myself into my work. I had a couple new articles I needed to read and a two o’clock phone call with a client, and I did pretty well until the music started next door. I’d almost gotten used to the occasional basslines thumping through the shared wall, but this seemed much louder than usual. Alicia’s car was still nowhere to be seen, so I figured Brandon was taking advantage of the boss being gone to really crank it up.
I tried to ignore it.
I did.
I even turned on my own music in the hopes of drowning out his, but that only made my brain work harder as I tried to listen to my stuff while simultaneously trying to figure out what he was playing from hearing just the bass. After nearly twenty minutes, I threw the pen in my hand across the room and growled.
Coffee. Maybe coffee would help.
You know what didn’t help? The mountain range of boxes still taking up my entire reception area.
“Goddamnit,” I muttered, as I stalked out the door and down the hall. It was all coming to a head. I knew it. I could feel it, and I tried to stop it. Every little thing that had anything at all to do with Alicia—the boxes, the music, the kickball, the sickening smells of whatever food they ordered, Alicia’s utter disappearance with no explanation, no text, no call, no nothing—it all boiled over in my chest until I couldn’t keep it contained any longer. The door to Just Wright was open, and once I did a quick sweep with my eyes to be sure there were no clients around, nobody other than Alicia’s employees, I closed it. I didn’t slam it, but it must have been pretty close, as Gisele, Pantone, Justin, and Brandon all swiveled their heads to look at me, having heard it above the music.
Right Here, Right Now Page 18