by Mia Moore
“You said it’s your penance. But—”
“You don’t understand.” His hands rose and he dry scrubbed his face. Pulling his cheeks down he looked across at her with haunted eyes. “Jody climbed up on my bed, wanting to play. I was sick and pushed her off. Her arm broke.” His hands fell to his lap. He looked a hundred years old when he spoke. “They were taking her to the hospital. That’s why--the penance.”
She rose and put her arms around his neck, holding his head to her breast, stroking his hair. “Oh Chris.” A single tear left her eye.
After a few moments, he took her hands away and looked up into her eyes. “Please, let me help you Brie.”
She nodded and took a seat in front of the computer.
Chapter 11
A month later...
“Get your coat and boots. We’re going out for lunch.” The upper half of Chris’s body appeared in the archway.
Brie’s head jerked up from the screen of the laptop. She winced, pulling her eyebrows high. “I’m just about done this chapter. Can you give me five minutes?” It was quiet and comfortable sitting in the overstuffed chair. The thought of the cold outside and a stuffy restaurant filled with a preening lunch-set wasn’t appealing.
He strode towards her and yanked the laptop from her hands. “No. It’s a great day and you haven’t been out of this house all week. I think we both need a break from these four walls.” The lid of the computer snapped shut clam-like, and he set it on the coffee table. “Let’s go.”
He led the way from the living room to the front foyer and flashed a grin at her. “Besides which, there’s someone I want you to meet.”
Her eyes opened wide and a feeling of dread settled low in her tummy. She plucked the wool winter coat from the hook next to the door. “Who?”
He was already wearing his coat and hat. With a flourish of his hand he slipped a muffler around his neck and flung the end over his shoulder. Brie’s lips pulled back in a small smile, watching him. He was being so mysterious, topping the image with a look and gesture straight out of a Sherlock Holmes movie.
“An old friend of mine…well actually not old, but a friend, I’ve known a long time. Well five years isn’t really a long time, I suppose.” He slipped his hands into calfskin, leather gloves.
She looked down at her fingers fastening the buttons of her coat, to hide the grin that played on her lips. Oh my God, if she didn’t know better she’d swear, the unflappable Chris was flustered. Whoever he was going to meet meant a great deal to him. She plopped a tam onto her head and fished her gloves out of the pockets of her coat. “Ready.”
He opened the door and waited for her to proceed before him. “Isn’t it a glorious day!” A wide grin spread over his face. He was freshly shaven and a waft of a spicy, coconut scent surrounded him like a fog.
Actually, the day was chilly and overcast. She pulled the collar of her coat up, tightening it around her neck. They descended the brownstone and she stopped at the edge of the sidewalk. An elderly couple with a basset hound threaded their way between them. Cars sped by on the street, a couple of which were taxis. She was about to put her hand up, hailing one to stop, but he reached for her and spun her around.
“Not today. It’s only four blocks and the walk will do us good.”
Walk? At the look she shot him, he lifted his chin, scowling down at her. “Tsk, tsk. Young people today. If I can walk four blocks, so can you.”
She fell into step beside him. “Is it a man or a woman we’re meeting?” A silly question, considering how he was acting. She was half way through ‘Catcher in the Rye’ and he’d interrupted the part where she’d finally get to meet Holden’s sister. So he deserved a little ribbing.
“Michael Tremblant. He’s with the Mayor’s office, his chief of staff actually. He was in the neighborhood and rang me. He’s having lunch at a restaurant nearby, actually more of a French bakery but—”
“Chris!” She was taking two steps for every one of his long legged strides. “Will you slow down? What’s the hurry? And, we ate breakfast not two hours ago.” She placed her hand on his arm, tugging him to stop. “Actually, why am I going?” A gust of wind whipped her hair across her face as she scowled up at him.
He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Because darling, I can’t just drop everything and chase after him. His lover left him and he’s available but I can’t appear too eager, although he IS quite a catch. No. the story is that YOU invited me to lunch. Since he’s at Lafayette, I suggested we kill two birds with one stone. Quite coincidental, don’t you think?” His grey eyes glittered before he turned and continued walking.
She scurried after him, her voice sharp when she spoke. “You interrupted my reading, reading that you insisted I do I might add, to take part in this scheme?”
“Don’t give me that. You like old Holden Caulfield. He’s quite the cynic isn’t he?” Chris grinned down at her.
She glanced up at him and her eyebrows drew together. “Actually, I think he’s a sad, scared guy. The cynicism is just a shield.”
They stopped at the corner waiting for the light to turn. People scuttled by them, intent on their own errands and immersed in their own dramas, too busy to give Chris and Brie a second look.
“Excellent. What happened to that bedraggled young woman who showed up at my door last month, insisting she was dull? You’re anything but dull my dear. That comment showed how insightful you are.” He grinned down at her, his eyes travelling over her face and coat. “And as far as dull goes, you’re turned out as well as any big city woman.”
Her face flushed scarlet and she looked at the traffic light. Would she ever get used to receiving compliments? It had never happened before in her twenty-four years. Sure, the clothes were great, but she was still finding her way in the reading and discussions they’d had each evening. Although he had also commented on her opinion on the article in the Times that morning. Another ‘astute’ observation, he’d said.
The light changed and once more he trotted forward.
Keeping up with him, her voice was breathless, “So, you’ve got a thing for this guy, right?” Would they chat and exclude her from their conversation? If he was with the Mayor’s office, he must be a bright guy. Already she felt like a fifth wheel.
“Even when he was with Stephen, there was always kind of a connection between us. He was too honorable ever to outright flirt and I’d never do anything to jeopardize another couple’s relationship, still…” He glanced down at her and grinned. “Let’s just say that I’m not letting any opportunity go. I’ve got to put my hooks in before some other fag gets a chance.”
She shook her head and smiled up at him. He had resumed his previous pace and it was all she could do to stay by his side. Speech was out of the question, out of breath as she was.
On the next block, he slowed and adjusted the fedora and scarf. “How do I look?” His fingers clutched the silk scarf, while his wide eyes showed anxiety.
“You’re great. Not my type of course, but I can appreciate the quality.” She snorted and brushed a lock of hair off his forehead.
“Smart ass.” He walked to the door of the restaurant and held it for her.
When she walked in, her mouth watered. The smell of fresh bread mixed with a sugary caramel scent. Squares of white linen topped tables set out along the wide front window. Light sconces adorned graceful archways leading to different sections and a marble topped bar dominated the central area like the hub of a wheel. The restaurant was nearly full with customers. Chris’s chin rose, his head swiveling as he peered around looking for his friend.
His hand rose and fingers fluttered. “Ah. There he is.”
She looked at the end table near the window where a swarthy skinned, well dressed man rose to his feet. Brilliant white teeth flashed in his smile below dark eyes, made even darker from the two heavy lines of low eyebrow. His silvery hair was combed back revealing a high forehead.
“Michael! It’s so good to see you. Wh
at’s it been? At least two years since I’ve seen you.” Chris’s arms rose to hug the other man.
He pulled back and scanned Chris’s body to the toes of his boots and back. “At least. You’re looking well.” Only after a lingering smile did he turn to see Brie.
Her gaze drifted to the floor as his smile faded and his eyes became narrow. It only lasted a moment. But in that moment she was like an insect being critically analyzed; her clothes, make-up even her background.
Chris turned and extended his arm to pull her closer to them. “This is Brie Morely. She’s staying with me for a few months until she gets settled in the city. Brie, this is Michael Tremblant.”
Chris’s smile was warm and anxious when she looked up. She managed a small smile and slipped her glove off, extending her hand to his friend.
His grip was firm, his hand warm and dry when he shook her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Brie.”
Despite the tone of his voice, his eyes were still assessing. He stepped back and with his arm held up, invited them to join him.
She removed her coat and draped it over the chair next to the window. With a small smile she glanced at Michael and took a seat near the window.
Chris sat down across from his friend and placed his hand on the other man’s, leaning forward. “I’m so sorry to hear about Stephen. You must have been devastated.” He shook his head from side to side, his head tilted, the absolute picture of sadness.
Michael’s gaze dropped to his hand and his lips pulled to the side. “It was rough at first, of course.”
“Yes, yes, of course.” Comforting words dripped from Chris’s mouth and he rubbed Michael’s hands softly.
Brie gulped and looked down at the table setting in front of her. This was awkward. The designer blouse and jeans felt tight against her flesh. Instead of making her feel at home in the chic restaurant, she felt phony, exactly the sort of character in the J.D. Salinger book. There was no doubt that Michael thought so, sizing up her clothes and wondering why she was with Chris.
Why had she let him talk her into coming?
“But that’s water under the bridge, Chris.” Michael squeezed Chris’s hand and then he pulled back in his chair.
The waitress, red haired and thin, in her early thirties appeared at the table and handed menus to Chris and Brie. “May I get you something from the bar to start with?”
Chris looked up. “Scotch rocks for me.” He turned to Brie.
“A glass of Chardonnay?” Her voice came out as a high pitched squeak. She hadn’t had anything to drink since that first time in Bloomie’s. Considering he had chosen it then, it was probably a good choice.
The waitress smiled, and nodding, left the table.
“How fortunate you called. Brie and I were going out for lunch anyway. As the saying goes, ‘all work and no play’…” Chris’s lips pursed and he leaned over the table towards Michael.
“Still writing, Chris?” Michael picked up his napkin and placed it in his lap before flashing a small smirk. “When are you going to publish? I can’t wait to read whatever you’re working on.”
“A bodice ripper romance? That hardly seems your style, Michael.” Chris let out a soft chuckle.
Oh my God. What was she doing here? With all the flirting going on, she wished she was invisible. The attraction that Michael held for Chris was so obvious. But then again, he WAS good looking, a few years older than Chris but in much better shape. It was no wonder Chris wanted to move in fast.
“So Brie, you’re not from New York? Where did you live before Chris extended the welcome mat?” He sat back in the chair, his head tilted to the side, watching her with narrow eyes.
Her breath caught in her throat for a moment. He couldn’t think that there was anything going on between her and Chris, but the way he looked at her showed suspicion. “Mumford, Ohio. It’s a small town. I doubt if you’ve heard of it.” She smiled and looked down at the table.
“You don’t look like one of the students Chris usually rents to. What brought you to the city?” His eyes travelled from her manicured fingernails to her eyes.
Her stomach twisted in a knot and she looked down at the table, cupping her hands to hide the nail polish on her fingertips. There was no hiding from his gaze however. She glanced over at Chris, only to see his rapt attention on Michael’s smooth line of jaw and lips. No help there.
She took a deep breath. “Back home, I worked at a grocery store. I decided to try life in the big city. Now, I guess I kind of work for Chris…for a while anyway.” She prodded Chris’s leg with her knee and her eyes were wide when she glanced at him.
“Oh. Yes, Brie’s a marvelous cook. She’s doing an on-line course when she’s not cooking or cleaning.” He smiled at Brie, but the next comment was more for Michael than her. “I’ll miss her when she leaves. After April, the house will seem too big.”
“What will you do then, Brie? Are you going to find work in a grocery store again? Frankly, you look too well dressed for that kind of job.” There was a cold smirk on his face as he adjusted the napkin on his lap.
The waitress appeared before she had a chance to answer. Thank God.
She picked up the glass of wine and took a small sip. Her chin rose and she inhaled deeply, staring back at Michael. “Chris bought me these clothes and helped me out when I got here last month. I didn’t ask for them. I would have been okay with getting clothes at a thrift store. As for what I’ll do when I leave…I’ll find something.”
His eyes darted between Chris and her, a puzzled expression on his face.
Chris jerked back staring at his friend. “Hey Michael…What’s with all the questions? Brie’s a guest in my home…okay, she’s earning her keep, but she’s good people.” He put his hand on Brie’s shoulder and turned to her. “I’m sorry Brie.” He turned to his friend once more. “I know what this must look like—”
“Oh yeah?” Michael leaned forward and reached for Chris’s hand. “How long have we known each other? I’m just looking out for—”
“Forget it!” His hand drew back as if threatened by a hot poker. “I don’t need you to give Brie the third degree. I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself. You insult me Michael, as well as insulting Brie. Think I’m not a good judge of character? Well let me—”
Brie’s eyes were like ping pong balls, darting back and forth between the two men. The exchange was heated and fast.
“Chris you’re a bit of a softie in this milieu. You don’t know people like I do.” Michael’s dark eyes were slits of granite.
Chris shook his head quickly. “Maybe so… But I know I’ve got a heart.” He stared silently at Michael for a moment. “This was a mistake.” He turned to Brie. “Let’s go.”
Brie didn’t have to be asked twice. She stood up and reached for her coat, avoiding eye contact with either of them. She always avoided confrontations like this like the plague. A small kernel in her chest was warm. Chris had defended her. No one had ever stuck up for her in her life.
Chris stood up and threw a twenty dollar bill on the table. As she passed by him, he spoke in a hiss, scowling at Michael. “Too bad about Stephen. I guess when he left he took a part of you with him—your heart.”
Brie let out a long sigh of relief, walking through the restaurant to the door. What a nasty, suspicious guy. He may be great looking but Chris was probably better off without him. Chris was warm and nice whereas that guy’d been controlling, jumping to conclusions—all of them wrong.
On the street once more, Chris didn’t waste time, striding towards home. Except that this time his jaw was set, eyes staring straight ahead. She’d never seen him angry so this was a first. She bit her lower lip, struggling to keep pace with him. Whatever turmoil was going on in that head of his was not for her to explore. He’d been so hopeful about meeting up with Michael and now, for better or worse, that was gone.
In no time at all it seemed they were back at his brownstone. He unlocked the door and held it for her to scurry past hi
m. She risked a peek at him as she took her coat off. “If you’re hungry, I can make us some lunch.”
His eyes flared wide for a moment and he thrust his coat onto the wooden hanger. “Eating wasn’t the point was it, my dear?” His words were clipped and harsh.
“I’m sorry that—”
“YOU’RE SORRY!” He turned and strode into the living room.
A knot of fear flooded into her gut as she followed him and took a seat on the sofa. Was this it? Would she be looking for another place to stay now? “Yes. I’m sorry but—”
“But what? That the only guy I’ve been interested in for years gave you a hard time?” His hands flew to scrape through his thinning blonde hair, glaring at the floor. “I stuck up for you and it cost me.”
Her face flashed crimson but she held her head high. “I told you I didn’t want to be there. Why couldn’t you have left me here, reading my book?” Her voice was small and she shook her head looking up at him.
His eyes flashed to where she sat, trying her best to disappear into the sofa. “Look, I can’t talk about this right now.” He turned and stomped out of the room, his footsteps soft thuds on the wooden floor of the hallway.
For a few minutes, she just sat there. Should she apologize? But she’d done nothing wrong. Her heart sank low in her chest as the anger in Chris’s eyes flashed in her mind. One more victim of her fucked up life. She picked up the laptop and signed in. Her head sunk low on her chest as she typed in a search for other places to live. That was priority one. After that, she’d do a job search. This had been too good to be true, finding a friend like Chris, catching a break.
A few places that seemed reasonable, popped up on the screen. She started typing a reply to the first one, a place in the Bronx, when Chris’s voice interrupted her.
“It’s for you.” He held a cell phone in his hand, extending it to her. His eyes linked with hers as he handed it to her. “It’s Michael.”