She was already a few feet away from him. “I don’t know. I’ll text you!” she repeated.
Simon had checked out the shops, worked out and even taken a nap to fill the time. Still, he hadn’t heard from her. Based on the poster in the lobby, her event had ended earlier at 8 p.m. Bored and feeling off-balance, he walked down to the casino to check out the poker tables. Women in evening gowns roamed the floor, some holding tightly to their men as they took their place at the table, and some sidling up to complete strangers, hoping, he assumed, to find company for the night.
Simon repeatedly glanced at his phone while the dealer began to shuffle the cards. As the minutes passed, he lost all hope of seeing her that night. The clock ticked, the night wore on, and still no sign of a text.
It was almost midnight when he caught a glimpse of Tessa crossing the room arm in arm with the model he had seen her with earlier. He looked at his phone, hoping he had simply missed a text. Nothing. She wore the same outfit he’d seen her in earlier, her hair a bit disheveled, her cheeks ruddied, most probably from drinking a little too much. The way the model held her was grossly inappropriate.
They were sleeping together.
He stood, and she saw him, a look of realization and maybe even guilt crossing her face. Before Simon could do anything, she continued toward the elevator without another glance.
It was then he realized that she’d had no intention of seeing him that day. Her promise to text had been empty. She had appeased him, just like one of her fans. A condescension to those who traveled to this city to see her.
He was one of them, and nothing more.
This is exactly what Jake means when he tells me to grow up, Tessa thought as she woke up the next morning in Andrew’s bed.
This is what her brother tried to protect her from. Same story, same reasons. She’d had too much to drink, gotten high on love and the prospect of it, swooned over some momentary professions of adoration, and afterward, never felt more alone in her life.
They hadn’t even bothered to draw the curtains. For a few minutes, she lay in bed, thinking of what she’d done the night before. She should have handled it differently, shouldn’t have stood him up like that. She had fully intended to see him after the book signing. But the reaction she’d had upon seeing Simon earlier in the day had terrified her. At the signing, she couldn’t think straight, wrote the wrong names on the books handed to her, checked her phone a million times, called Riley to tell her how she felt.
I can’t do it, Rye. I’m too excited to see him. It’s not right.
What’s not right? You’re being silly.
No, I’m not. This has never happened to me before. I can’t see him.
Sunlight streamed in through the fine fabric, illuminating the beautiful face of the man who slept next to her.
“Andrew,” she whispered, nudging his leg with her foot.
“Hmmm.” He lifted his arm and slung it across her chest.
“I have to go,” she said, sliding toward the edge of the bed. “I’ll text you, okay?”
“Hmmm,” he said again.
She knocked on Simon’s door thirty minutes after she left Andrew’s room, showered and dressed and feeling contrite.
Simon opened the door with sleep-laden eyes, his dark hair tousled and mussed, his chest bare, his black basketball shorts sitting on his lower hips.
The speech she had planned was lost in the blueness of his eyes. “Sorry,” was all she could manage. There he stood, one hand on the door handle, head protruding out the door, hesitant. “Can we talk?” she asked, still standing outside the imaginary line between him and the door.
He pulled it wide open and stepped aside while she strode in. “Let me explain,” she started out.
“Explain.” He remained standing by the door.
He was pissed. On the one hand, that was a good sign. He’d waited. For a while this morning, she’d consoled herself by imagining him with some girl he’d picked up at the casino last night. Apparently, that hadn’t happened.
Now, on the other hand, she felt worse about it.
Tessa looked around. The room was immaculately clean. Simon’s shoes were parked right next to an open suitcase, shirts neatly piled on top of one another, ready to be packed. A room service tray had been methodically stacked with plate covers. A napkin lay folded and tucked in neatly between the ice bucket and two bottles of wine.
She allowed her mind to wander for a moment, creating scenarios in her head. So, he was extremely organized and a little intense. It’s not like she wasn’t either. Just without the organization part.
“I’m waiting,” he said.
His irritation was evident. Why was she even here? She could have just let it go, slept in with Andrew and avoided Simon for the rest of the weekend. That would have been the end of this story.
But that’s just it.
She didn’t want it to be.
She took a seat on the edge of his bed.
“Simon, I’m sorry about yesterday. Everything ran late, and I couldn’t get out early enough.”
“I saw you, don’t you remember?”
“Yes, but…” She paused. “I guess what I mean is.” She tucked her hands under her thighs. And then scooted back and crossed her legs instead. “By the time you saw me, it was a few hours after I’d decided not to meet you.”
He surprised her by taking a seat beside her. She noticed how long his legs were, his knees reaching up to his abdomen. These had all the makings of a book. Brooding, shirtless guy on the bed with a confused bitch.
“Decided. What does that mean?”
“It means I thought it best not to come,” she responded.
“Listen, I understand I can’t come barging into your event and expect you to drop everything for me. I’m going to be taking a flight back tonight. My plane leaves early evening.”
She turned to face him. “No, no. I’m here now. I’m really sorry. Last night wasn’t planned. I didn’t mean to upset you! I just saw no point.”
She thought his eyeballs would pop out of their sockets, he was glaring at her so hard.
“I traveled across the country to wait for you,” he said.
“Yeah. I’m a little weirded out by that, actually.”
“Then why are you here?” he mocked her. “In my room.”
“Good question. I really don’t know.” She exhaled loudly. Honest to God. She didn’t know. He wasn’t joking around. She felt the chill in his eyes. They turned into winter, an icy lake, a frozen river, a dead tree.
“Try,” he said.
“It was the next step. Next steps scare me.”
“Tessa, we’ve been texting each other for three and a half months. At least a few times a week.”
“I know. But—”
“But nothing. You’re talking rubbish,” he argued.
There they were, side by side on the edge of his bed. He reached down to the floor, grabbed his shirt and quickly placed it over his head.
In a way, he was right. Why overthink it? She really wanted to make it up to him. What if she forgot for a moment there were even any next steps, would that help?
She tugged at his sleeve and with the sweetest smile she could muster, said, “Please don’t be mad. I mean it, I am truly sorry for standing you up.”
He stayed still, eyes now focused on his hands, which rested on his lap.
“Simon?” she repeated.
“Apology accepted,” Simon said, his head turned toward her, body still facing forward. “I get that you don’t really know me, that’s why I’m here.”
“Thank you,” she answered, looking away. She began thinking of words to describe his eyes. Crystalline, turquoise, deep.
“I understand how out of kilter this looks. But I’m hoping this day doesn’t all go to pot.”
“All to what?” she asked, confused.
“I’m hoping we can still do something today.”
/> “Okay.” She smiled. When he remained silent, she continued. “Get dressed, and I’ll see you downstairs in what, half an hour?”
“Half an hour,” he agreed. “In front of the big arse fountain.”
They were both smiling now, the easing tension had brought back their banter.
Tessa went directly down to the lobby to wait for him—she wasn’t going to risk somehow standing him up again—which proved to be a mistake. When Simon emerged from the elevators twenty minutes later, a flock of women had gathered around her.
The look of anxiety on Simon’s face—and why wouldn’t he be worried she’d stand him up again, her track record thus far had been atrocious—was quickly replaced by relief when he saw her. She waved at him and smiled. He stood outside the circle until she excused herself and plowed through the crowd to get to him. Tessa felt a twinge of excitement when she grabbed his hand and led him away from everyone else. It was a gesture reserved for old friends, for people who have known each other for ages. The way he clasped her fingers in his were words that didn’t have to be spoken. He followed her through the twisted archway, past stores and restaurants until they reached the outdoor theme park.
“I’m happy you’re here,” she said, plagued with true remorse. Now she wished she had seen him last night. Standing next to him then, wading in those eyes, made her long for more time with him. But with this elation, Tessa felt fear. She wondered if she’d have to decide sooner or later whether these next steps would be worthwhile. Lord, she hoped not.
“And I as well.”
They made their way to the cotton candy stand. They stood and watched as the old man wove pink streams of sugar around a paper cone. “Hmmff.” She chomped loudly, offering it to him. “Love strawberry.”
He tore off a piece and placed it in his mouth.
“Oh, look, let’s do the giant Ferris wheel!” she exclaimed while waving the sticky cardboard in his face. An imposing spherical structure extending hundreds of feet into the sky towered in front of them. The rim of the giant wheel held passenger cabins that looked like pods. She didn’t wait for him to respond, leaving him behind and running to the ticket booth.
“Tessa!” He chased after her. “Can we wait a bit? Me and high places, we don’t see eye to eye.”
“Who says you have to see? Just close your eyes and let’s get on!”
Tessa grabbed two tickets, pulled him toward the gate and into one of the glass enclosed cabins. Other passengers followed suit. A shrill, loud siren went off, announcing the start of the ride. Tessa tugged him by the arm until he had no choice but to hop in. And then she pulled him toward a bench facing the northern section of the city. Flat screen TVs were mounted on each side, giving riders a view of the city from every angle.
The operator checked their seatbelts and placed the latch on the metal gate. Simon had apprehension written all over his face. He continuously shook his head at her, his lips tight, stressed.
“Don’t worry, little boo boo,” she teased as she gently took his hand in hers. “I’ll protect you.”
Simon wondered whether he should pretend to play with this phone as a distraction to the car rising hundreds of feet in the air. Five hundred eighty, to be exact. As the car climbed farther and farther from the ground, he tried to focus on her shoes.
He would have much rather focused on her face, but doing so would mean looking past the glass enclosure and toward the view below. She looked so… Simon couldn’t describe it. Such the guy thing to notice a woman’s outside appearance, first and foremost. Her short hair fell neatly in place. She wore torn up jeans and Toms sneakers, her face resplendent with not a trace of makeup. Her lips were a natural bright pink; if you stared at her from different angles, it almost looked as if they were too big for her face.
But it wasn’t even that. She was beautiful yes, but the girl on the texts and the messages turned out to be the same girl sitting next to him that day. She was just as he imagined her to be. There was no disappointing revelation, no turn-off point. In fact, it was the opposite.
“Why did we stop?” he asked as the car began to rotate ever so slightly.
“They’re just picking up passengers,” she answered. “It’s a thirty-minute ride. We have lots of time to chitchat.” A slight pause. “Give me your phone.”
“What?”
She never waited for answers. She took the phone from his hand but handed it back immediately.
“The code,” she ordered.
He typed it in and gave it back to her.
“Where are the pictures?” she asked, swiping back and forth.
“Tessa, what are you doing?”
“I want to see pictures. Get to know who you are.”
She pressed on the camera and started swiping to the right. He first looked away, embarrassed. And then he watched for a reaction as images of test tubes, hand scribbled formulas, manual pages and clippings appeared.
“Who’s this?” she asked as a picture of Maxine came into view. “She’s beautiful.”
“Someone I dated. Maxine.”
“Ah. You have a girlfriend,” Tessa acknowledged without batting an eye.
“Long before I met you,” he said defensively. Her reaction disheartened him. But why? What did he expect her to do? Did he expect her to fly into a jealous rage?
Simon wondered why he was taking everything so seriously.
She smiled at him and swiped left instead. “It’s okay. Guys with girlfriends can still have girl-friends,” she said. “Tell me about her?”
The car moved forward a few feet. He began to calculate the radius of a circle in his head.
“She’s an accountant. Works for one of the big four in London but assigned locally like me.” He was aware of boasting a little; he was proud of Maxine. Her intellect had always turned him on.
But Tessa… Something in him craved the spontaneity that this woman brought into his life. He realized that even after being stood up last night—her unpredictability made him more attracted to her. It was like unwrapping a Kinder Egg. You never know what you’ll get.
“Big four of what?” she asked, perplexed.
Thank goodness! There was actually someone who didn’t know about nanotechnology, who the big four companies were, and why guys with girlfriends couldn’t have girl-friends.
He smiled at her. “Accounting firms.”
“Hmm.” She didn’t try to dig deeper.
“Now, your turn.”
She handed her phone to him after punching in her code. He opened her photos app and started swiping.
“These are all dogs,” he said. “How many dogs do you have? Are you one of those spinsters with a house full of animals?”
“I wanted a dog.”
“Which one is yours?”
“I don’t have one. I’m still trying to decide.”
The way she said it so matter-of-factly endeared him. She didn’t seem to want to impress him, wasn’t embarrassed at all about appearing flighty. She possessed confidence in her uncertainty.
“And I’m hardly a spinster,” she said. “I just turned twenty-six, for your information.”
“When’s your birthday?” he said, handing back her phone. But not before noticing a picture of a handsome man and a beautiful dark-haired girl.
“My brother Jacob and his girlfriend, Riley,” she answered his thoughts. “May 1st. You?”
“September 2nd.”
They leaned against the glass and faced inward.
“Virgo and Taurus,” she said. “Both dedicated. You’re practical, I’m stubborn. We’re both cautious. I’m romantic, and you’re overly communicative.”
He laughed. “What else?”
“That’s all I know,” she answered.
A crying baby. Two giggling teenagers. A man and a woman arguing. They all attempted to pull his attention in different directions with little success. Life was there, laid out in front of him, in a glass encl
osed pod hundreds of feet in the air. And he watched her lean forward to listen to a mother read a book to a toddler while he fished cheerios out of a cup. Simon observed the lively exchange between two young women with pierced noses and beautiful black tattoos on their arms. He caught them in a kiss as the Ferris wheel descended.
He imagined what it would be like to kiss her.
Amid the noise, they sat in silence. He reached for her hand and held it. And she let him.
They walked along a bridge over a man-made lake. The air felt thick to Simon, despite the pleasant temperatures. He tried to mask his labored steps, pausing a few times to catch his breath. She didn’t seem to notice.
Although it had been three hours since they’d met by the fountain, it felt like only minutes. He tried to delay his departure as much as he could. But his car would be there in a half hour to take him to the airport. She asked him to sit with her for a few minutes, on stone steps in the middle of a rose garden. He was at a loss for words, afraid they wouldn’t see each other again after this. What should he say, to make her want to see him again? What would it take, when he knew he was going back to England in a month?
Suddenly, the normalcy he had craved was a distant wish. He didn’t want to leave her. And yet, it was too soon to tell her how he felt. It was too early to know. He focused his attention on the objects around them. Like the lover-inscribed names and messages carelessly carved on the bench where they sat. Or the stones beneath their feet that were so perfectly shaped, he was sure they were man made, synthetic. Or the approaching bird she didn’t seem to notice. It flew away right as she ducked her head.
“So, no next steps, huh?” He glanced at his watch. He needed to know before he left.
“None, unless it involves getting a dog,” she said with a smile.
“Even a dog would need time with you.”
“True! Scrap that idea then!” she laughed.
He considered himself an intelligent man, but at that moment, he knew nothing. He held on to the lifeline he imagined she held out to him.
Eight Goodbyes Page 5