by Violet Duke
Fran raises an eyebrow. âAnd you seem pretty happy about that.â
âWell, it was fun. It was just what I needed, actually.â
âGabby, what am I missing here? I thought you were seeing Dane.â
âWell, no, I wouldnât say Iâm seeing Dane. I would say Iâm screwing Dane.â
Franâs mouth drops open in disbelief. âWhoa. That sounded seriously bitter.â
Taking a deep breath, I try to gather my thoughts before I speak. âOkay, so I saw Dane the other night, and we had sex, just like always. And before you say anything, yes, it was great sex. But, thatâs all it wasâ¦â
Without letting me finish, Fran interrupts. âAnd the problem is? I thought thatâs what you wanted, right? Isnât it, Gabby?â
âYes. No. Yes. I donât know. Itâs been for the past month or so, but now Iâm not so sure.â I tap my fingers on the table. âI donât know. I know after we had sex this time I felt empty, and for the first time in a long time, I didnât like it.â
âSweetie, Iâve known you since fourth grade, and sometimes I actually think I know you better than you know yourself. Iâve already told you what I think. Youâve just been too thickheaded to want to hear it. Youâre running and youâve been running for a long time. Dane is a band-aid and thatâs all heâs ever been. Itâs time to rip off the freaking band-aid; let go of the past, and go after what you really want. Stop messing around, Gabby. This is your life weâre talking about.â
Fran stops mid-sentence as Brad returns with our drinks. âOne Salted Caramel Mocha, extra whipped cream, and one latte.â He gives me a quick wink and walks way.
âSo, where was I, before we were rudely interrupted by that dimpled cutie?â She smiles. âOh yes.â Her eyes sparkle. âGoing after what you want. What do you really want? Because from my perspective, I see things changing for you. Maybe the question isnât whatâs changed, but whoâs changing it?â As she says the words, she glances over to the counter and then back to me. âI have a couple of theories.â
I pinch her arm hard. âStop looking over there, Fran. Heâs going to think weâre talking about him.â
âOh yes, things are changing all right.â Her whole face smiles. âYou may not be ready to admit it, but thatâs okay. I can tell you this, Gabby Willis; Iâve seen more genuine smiles from you recently than Iâve seen in a long time. So, whatever or whoever is putting those smiles on your face, Iâm rooting for them. She pats my hand and gives me one of her sincere, loving smiles. âNow, getting back to Dane, if youâre kicking his hot ass to the curb, can I pick him up and dust him off?â
We burst into laughter so loud, customers turn to stare. âFran, youâre unbelievable!â
Fran and I say our goodbyes and I feel Bradâs eyes follow me as we walk out the door. This time I donât look back.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
FRANâS WORDS OF wisdom seem to be invading my thoughts a lot lately. I laugh out loud; she wants my leftovers. Well, she can have them, and gladly. Iâm feeling a bit more confident today and know I have to call Dane. I need to face what happened last week, but I also need to get him Robbyâs new design plans for his apartment. Above all else, I have a job to do.
On my lunch break, I pull myself up from my chair, which I now seem to be stuck to, and head over to a small conference room. I peek inside and when I donât see anyone, walk in and close the door behind me. I dial Daneâs number, feeling pretty confident. He answers after three rings. âHey Dane, itâs Gabby. Listen, I want to apologize for leaving the way I did the other night.â
âThatâs okay. Iâm sorry that I upset you. Can I make it up to you, say tonight?â
Iâm not giving up my Friday night. âI canât tonight, but how about next week?â
âSure. Iâll call you tomorrow. I canât wait to see you, Gabby.â
âOkay, bye Dane.â
*
FRIDAY IS ALWAYS takeout and movie night. I rent Pretty Woman. Why? Because Iâm a hopeless, sappy romantic and I love happy endings…especially one involving Richard Gere. By the time I pick everything up and make it home, Iâm completely drained. Ripping off my work clothes in favor of my trademark sweatpants and a tank top, I settle in under a warm, soft blanket with some chicken and broccoli, and Richard Gere.
Just as I get settled, my cell phone rings. I consider not answering it since Fran is with Kyle, but pick it up just in case itâs her. Itâs Brad.
âHey, you,â he says, with that ability to always make me smile even through the freaking phone.
âHey, yourself.â
âWhatcha up to?â
âIâm getting ready to eat takeout and watch a movie. What about you?
âIâm closing up for the night. What movie?â
Iâm almost embarrassed to share. âPretty Woman,â I answer sheepishly.
âThat just happens to be my favorite movie.â
Liar. âYeah right.â
âSeriously, I like Julia Roberts.â
âIâm sure you do,â I say with playful sarcasm.
He laughs. âI donât think I like your tone, little lady.â
I think Iâd like to see him. âDo you want to come over and see Julia Roberts then?â
âOkay, but only if you have popcorn.â
âWhy is that?â I donât think we have any popcorn.
âJust in case I need to throw it at you.â
I laugh. âSee you soon.â
âYou betcha.â
Putting down the phone, I let what I just did sink into my brain. I just invited Brad over to my apartment. What was I thinking? I wasnât thinking. Or maybe I was thinking. I donât know. Itâs only cute, sweet, adorable Brad. Itâs not a date or anything. Yeah, okay Gabby, whatever.
I rush into the bathroom to brush my hair and throw a little lip gloss on. Realizing Iâm bra-less, I take one out of my drawer and put it on, then fish through my closet and put a different shirt on; one without stains.
The doorbell rings, and inhaling a deep breath, I make my way over to answer it. There stands Brad, smiling with every ounce of himself.
âCome on in, Juliaâs been waiting for you.â
âOh, I was hoping it was you who was waiting for me.â
Gulp. âSo, are you hungry? I have a lot of chicken and broccoli left.â
âSure, thatâd be great.â He hands me a cup with The Brew House logo. âHere. I know itâs kind of late for caffeine, so I brought you a peppermint hot chocolate.â Bradâs eyes roam the kitchen counter and land on the bags of Twizzlers and Swedish Fish. âWhatâs all this?â he asks, obviously excited.
âAh, you mean my secret addiction. I love candy. I buy it any chance I get and stockpile it. I guess you could call me a candy hoarder.â
His amused eyes scan my face. âWell, looks like your secretâs out.â
âIâm truly relieved,â I say, blowing out a breath. âItâs been hard hiding that for so long.â I stop when I realize what Iâve said. He has no idea how true that statement is. âSo, what do you want to watch?â
âWhat do you mean? I thought we were watching Pretty Woman?â
âWouldnât you rather watch Terminator or something?â
âTerminator? You actually have that movie here?â
âWell, no.â
Brad looks at me strangely. âWhy are you suggesting it then?â
âBecause itâs moreâ¦â I look up at the ceiling, as if an answer is going to fall down in the form of
peeling paint. âI donât knowâ¦manly.â
âAre you suggesting Iâm too manly to watch Pretty Woman?â
âWell, noâ¦butâ¦â
âListen, remember me? Iâm the one who took you to see Looney Tunes. I think I can handle Pretty Woman.â
I throw my hands up in the air. âOkay, if you insist.â
âI do.â
I meander into the kitchen and reach up on my tippy toes, grab a plate and fork for Brad, and load it up with chicken and broccoli, then fill up a glass of ice water for him.
Panic sets in as I make my way over to the sofa. I donât know where to sit. Oh my God, I feel like Iâm in freaking high school. Standing there nervously, I start twirling my hair with my fingers and sucking on my lip.
âEarth to Gabby?â
âUmâ¦Yeah?â
âAre you going to sit or do you want to finish eating your lip first?â
âUhâ¦okay.â
I hand Brad the plate and sit down next to him, but not too close. Then I reach around and grab a blanket but when it doesnât quite reach him, he eases over a bit. Our knees are touching and itâs making it hard to concentrate on the movie. I put my hands underneath my legs and sit there like a statue. A very tired one.
Somewhere between Julia Roberts watching I Love Lucy and Stuckey getting punched in the face, I fall asleep. I awaken to a soft shoulder and tender brown eyes.
âSorry, I didnât mean to fall asleep like that.â Iâm completely mortified. I hope thereâs no drool on my face.
âThatâs okay. I quite liked it. Except for the part where you were drooling and snoring.â
I nudge his shoulder. âI donât drool or snore.â
âHow would you know? You were sleeping.â
Being this close to Brad gives me a chance to peek at the tattoo around his bicep that Iâve been eyeing for so long. It looks like two scripted names wrapped around each other, with a small pink rose in the center. Curiosity gets the best of me. âCan I ask you a question?â
âSure, anything.â
âYour tattooâ¦â I trail off. Bradâs expression falls and I immediately regret saying the words. âIâm sorryâ¦I juâ¦â
âNo, itâs okay, really. Itâsâ¦itâs in memory of my mom and my sister. The name Clara wraps around the name Sofia. Clara was my sister and Sofia was my mom. My mom passed away when I was twelve, and my sister Clara, who Iâve mentioned before, passed away five years ago. Both from breast cancer.â
I suddenly feel an overwhelming ache in my heart for him. âBrad, Iâm so sorry.â
âThey were the two most important women in my life. I got the tattoo in remembrance, although it would be impossible to forget either one of them. They were both so full of life, and appreciated it in a way Iâve always admired. You actually remind me of them in some ways.â
I donât know what to say. Reaching over, I weave my fingers through his. Brad looks down at our hands and pauses a moment before he continues.
âMy mom was so amazing. She was always there for me. When I was a kid, she played with me all the time. Whether I was in the mud, playing basketball, or roughhousing, she was always right there beside me. She was a constant in my life, and I always knew she loved me no matter what I did.
âShe sounds like she was very special.â
âYeah,â he sighs. âShe really was. It was so hard when she got sick, though. I had to watch as the disease took over her body and her mind until I no longer recognized her anymore. After she died, I was lost. I needed her so badly. So I started skipping school and purposely getting into fights. I was so angry, and just didnât know how to handle it.â
âI canât imagine what that must have been like for you.â
âI just wanted her back, you know. My dad put me in therapy for a while, before he went off the deep end himself. Now he lives in Ohio and is a bit of a recluse. He took her death really hard; not that I blame him. She was the love of his life. After that, he was never the same. He just becameâ¦lifeless and bitter.â
âSo, do you still have contact with him?â
âNo, not anymore. He blames the world for my momâs death. I felt that way, too, at first. I had so many questions and I was angry. But over time and with therapy, I realized Iâd never know why. And for whatever reason, God felt that it was her time. When my sister passed though, that was the last straw for Dad. It pushed him over the edge. Sheâd been sick for a while and we had to watch her disappear right in front of our eyes.â His eyes have a faraway look and thereâs a hint of a smile on his lips. âClara was a real spitfireâ¦larger than life. She had a mind of her own and no one could tell her anything. I remember just before she got diagnosed she was planning on backpacking across Europe. When we found out about the cancer, my dad practically forbade her to go because he was afraid something would happen to her while she was gone.â He chuckles. âBut did she go? She sure as hell did. She said, ââHey, if Iâm dying, I might as well go out with a bang. The living have to keep on living.ââ His eyes make their way to mine. âI miss her fireâ¦her spirit.â
âWhat about your brother, Matt?â
âSince he lives in Los Angeles, we donât see each other a lot, but weâre really close. We talk on the phone every other day, and make an effort to fly out and see each other at least four times a year.â
Brad looks at me now. âHow about your family? Iâve only heard you talk about them briefly.â
âAhâ¦thatâs a dysfunctional story at best. How much time do you have?â He just stares at me, waiting for me to go on. âMy mom and dad are very self-absorbed, so needless to say weâre not very close. They never supported my choices unless it was what they wanted for me. Iâm kind of a big disappointment to them. My dad lives his own life with his new wife in Atlanta and barely has time for me unless he happens to be in the neighborhood. My mom is so wrapped up with her clothing store in San Francisco and her new boyfriend every six months that the best she can do is call me once a month, if that. I have a sister, but weâre not close. They donât get me. They never did.â
âIâm really sorry, Gabby.â He squeezes my hand.
âItâs okay. They just donât know who I am. They donât even know how much I like chocolate. Or that my favorite thing in the whole world is to curl up with a good book and get lost, and when Iâm finished reading how sometimes Iâm in tears because Iâm affected so much. Because I feel so deeply. They tend to do a lot of talking and not much listening. After a while, I just stopped trying to talk to them. I guess I gave up on them ever really knowing me.â Tears are starting to surface and I move to cover my face.
Brad leans in and presses a kiss to my cheek. His lips feel so soft. âItâs their loss, Gabby. Theyâre missing out on someone very special.â
The hour is getting late and Brad and I decide to call it a night. A part of me doesnât want him to leave. I like having him here. He makes me forget.
Grabbing his leather jacket off the chair, I hand it to him, but not before I inhale the faint scent of Brad mixed with coffee.
I look into Bradâs eyes with complete sincerity. âThank you, for showing me who you are tonight.â
He leans forward and places a sweet, lingering kiss on my cheek that warms my skin. âThank you for sharing Julia Roberts with me,â he says with a gleam in his eye.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I DIDNâT SLEEP WELL, my mind consumed with thoughts of soft brown eyes and tattoos. In fact, those are the same brown eyes that have been consuming my dreams night after night. Even though Dane and I arenât exclusive, or really dating, feelin
gs of guilt are seeping into my brain but flickers of happiness seem to be melting them away, slowly but surely.
The bright blue sky and warm sunlight awakens me. I mustâve been drooling last night, because my hair is glued to my face and Iâm practically eating it. Gross. I step into the shower and take a little bit too long scrubbing myself as my mind drifts to the soft lips that Iâm desperate to kiss.
Fran is still sleeping and I nudge her before I leave so sheâs not late for work. I donât remember exactly, but thereâs some big account and she has to go in for a few dreaded hours on a Saturday. Giving her a quick peck on the cheek, I head out the door.
I find myself grinning as I walk the streets of Manhattan today. In fact, Iâm grinning so much that I feel as though everyone is staring at me like I have a big secret. Well, maybe I do. On the way to The Brew House, I walk by a store that catches my eye. There are cards and plaques with simple quotes about life in the window, but what I notice most is a wristband with a pink ribbon for breast cancer awareness. I have just enough time to stop. Walking inside the store, I make my way over to the display. Most of the bracelets look pretty feminine, but then I see one thatâs stainless steel and leather. There are two ropes of black with a tiny pink ribbon imprinted on a stainless steel clasp. Perfect.
Taking a deep breath, I join the line at the coffee shop. When Bradâs eyes meet mine, my pulse quickens. Thereâs been a shift of some sort; I can feel it. Something about him pulls at me strongly, like weâre having some sort of tug of war and Iâm losing. There are no flirty girls today, so Iâm able to make my way right up to the counter.
Bradâs smile reflects mine. âMorning, cutie.â
I melt just like the Wicked Witch. âMorning,â I reply, unable to do anything else but smile.
âDid you sleep well last night?â
Yes, because I was dreaming of you, again. âYeah, really well.â I have to look away for a moment to hide the four shades of pink crawling up my cheeks.
âSo, what do you want today?â Brad says with his lopsided dimple.