by Beth Rinyu
Now it was him who was puzzled.
“I’m helping out Hann—Sister Hannah with something.” I wasn’t sure if that provided him with a sense of clarification or confused him more. My amusement grew at his bewilderment. “It’s a long story, but no need to worry, I’m not converting your son’s teacher into becoming a call girl.”
His adorable dimples were out in full force. In the short time of knowing him, I’d realized he had two starkly different smiles—one forced and somewhat tortured, and the other genuine and somewhat boyish. The one I was seeing right then was the latter of the two, and the few times I had witnessed it, it had always made me smile in return.
Over the course of our lunch, I learned some more about him and his family. His entire family lived in England, and it was just him and Jack here. His father was a doctor, and from what I gathered just from listening to him talk, his family came from generations of wealth. He didn’t offer up any more information about his wife, and I didn’t probe.
“Did you ever think of moving back to England with your son? It’s got to be lonely here without any family.”
“I thought about it, but I have my business here, and—” He paused for a moment. “Memories.”
“That makes sense.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Where is your family?”
A knot formed in my stomach whenever I thought of them. “They live in California. San Francisco area.”
“Maybe I should be asking you the same question then. Why are you not living in California?”
“Well, I came to the city when I was sixteen, after I got accepted into the American School of Ballet. After that, I was part of the New York City Ballet.”
He seemed confused by my switch in career.
“I got injured, and it kind of put an end to my dancing,” I explained. “I wanted to stay in the city and, well…” I sighed. “I guess this was an easy way to do it.”
He nodded. “Do you like your job?”
I looked away and then back at him. “That’s a tough question.”
“Why is that?”
“Because either way I answer, it makes me look like a terrible person. If I say I enjoy having sex for money it makes me a slut, and if I say that I don’t it makes me desperate.” I was happy when the waiter came over, creating a diversion and allowing me to avoid his question.
After lunch we took advantage of the rare mild winter day by taking a walk in Central Park.
“So, I was wondering if you’d be available to come with me to a cocktail party on Sunday night?” he asked.
“As far as I know, but everything needs to get scheduled through Margo. Sorry, they’re her rules.”
“No need to apologize, I’ll make sure I clear it with her.”
We took a seat on a bench and people-watched. I sensed sadness in his eyes when he focused on the young mother walking hand in hand with the little boy who looked to be around his son’s age.
“How long were you married?” I asked, breaking him from his trance.
He stared straight ahead and tried to compose himself. “Seven years. Annie and I met in college. I knew the moment I first saw her that I was going to marry her.” He blinked away the tears. “She was—she was everything to me.”
I knew I may have been overstepping my boundaries with my next question, but I couldn’t help myself. “How did she die?”
He sighed heavily, turning his head in my direction and making me instantly regret my decision when I saw the pain shooting through his eyes.
“I’m-I’m sorry, I should have never asked that, it’s really not my business.” I retreated.
“She was in a skiing accident,” he uttered.
My eyes widened, and I pulled in my lip to stop it from quivering. “When?”
“Two years ago.”
“Were you there when it happened?”
“No,” he whispered as his eyes glassed over. “She wasn’t even supposed to have gone. I had a business trip scheduled, so there was no one to watch Jack. It ended up getting canceled at the last minute, so she went.” He intertwined his hands behind his neck and looked up at the sky. “We actually got into a huge fight right before she left.” He let out a deep, cleansing breath and shook his head. “And all I could think was, if that trip hadn’t been canceled she’d still be alive.”
I was speechless for a split second. I knew his pain all too well, and I wanted so desperately to share some of it with him to help alleviate his own guilt. “I am so sorry for your loss, but you have to release that blame you’re placing on yourself or it will fester inside of you and turn you into something you don’t want to become.”
He tilted his head and squinted, fighting off the bright sunlight.
“I would never say this to you if it weren’t true…but I really do know exactly how you’re feeling.”
He stared at me intently.
“I was in love…once. My story is somewhat similar to yours, but I was unable to unleash that guilt I placed on myself, and now look what I’ve become.”
“I don’t get it, Bree. What have you become?”
“An emotionless, conscienceless, poor excuse for a human being.”
“That’s funny, because that’s not what I see when I look at you. I see a beautiful, caring, intelligent woman.”
“Wow, you’ve got that so wrong.” I flashed a nervous smile.
“Do I? Because so far you haven’t proven otherwise.”
“We’ll just have to agree to disagree on that, but thank you for being so kind.”
He moved his hand until it was overlapping mine. Pure contentment washed over me, and for the first time in a long time, my self-loathing diminished ever so slightly. There was something in his words that was so sincere. He didn’t have any ulterior motives. He actually saw beyond my empty shell exterior, scantily touching upon the girl I once was…the girl I wished I could be again someday.
Chapter 10
Hannah was pleased with the progress she had made with her book by the time we finished up with our Sunday afternoon meeting. I looked at my watch, knowing I needed to get home soon and ready myself for my Sunday night with Thursday Afternoon. “I hate to rush out of here, but I’ve got to get home and shower. I have a cocktail party to go to tonight.”
“Oh, that sounds like fun!” Hannah closed her laptop and shoved it into the bag.
“Yeah, it’s work related, so…”
“Oh, I see.” She looked down at the table.
“But my client, he’s really sweet. So it should be a nice time.”
“Oh, that’s good.” She tried dismissing the subject. Hannah didn’t like discussing my line of work unless it pertained to her fictional world. She seemed to be uncomfortable with it, but I wasn’t relenting. She was the one person that I could be completely open about it with, and I valued that.
“Yeah, he’s not like the others though. I think he needs emotional companionship more than physical. He’s experienced a terrible loss in his life and is trying to overcome it. We talk about a lot of things. I really enjoy his company.”
“Is he someone you could see yourself dating? If…well, you know.”
“You mean, would I have sex with him for free?” I laughed over her flustered state.
“That’s not exactly what I was going to say.” She cracked a nervous smile.
“I really don’t know. He’s a nice guy and very handsome, but I guess I’ve turned my feelings off for so long, it’s hard for me to even imagine dating someone. It’s been a long time since I’ve been with someone who I had feelings for. Besides, he’s deserving of someone much better than me.”
“Much better than you? Why are you so hard on yourself, Bree?” She was genuinely offended by my putdown.
“I just meant he would never want to—” I sighed heavily. “Never mind.”
“It’s never too late to become someone else.” She raised an eyebrow and stood up to put her
coat on as I stood up and did the same.
“So does that mean you want to become a call girl now?” I giggled.
She gasped, blushing and trying to hold in her amusement. We walked outside and zipped our coats. “Oh, I wanted to tell you, there’s going to be a big adoption event at the shelter on Wednesday night, if you’d like to come. We’re hopeful that a lot of them will find new homes. Maybe even Macy.” A huge smile stretched across her face.
“Yeah, that sounds awesome. I just need to check my schedule.”
“Great! Hopefully we’ll see you there.”
We said our goodbyes, and after a few unsuccessful attempts, I finally had some luck waving down a cab. I hopped in, gave the driver my address, and stared out the window, wondering what the night would bring. I mentally went over my wardrobe, narrowing down my attire for the evening to my navy blue lace dress or my version of the “go-to” little black dress, which instead was a little silver dress. Oddly enough, I was feeling a little excited about the evening—something that never happened when I was attending an event with a client. A lot of things seemed to be changing. Ever since Hannah had come into my life, I didn’t feel like such a recluse. She was the first outsider that I could be myself around, even if she was my complete opposite.
I sighed heavily, the wardrobe battle still going on in my head rattling from my thoughts when my phone beeped with a text message.
Thursday Afternoon: See you there at 7.
It took me a while to realize I had a ridiculous grin plastered all over my face, but I couldn’t help myself. And suddenly I was finding myself counting down the hours until seven o’clock the same way I counted down the days to Thursday afternoon.
***
“You’re late,” Simon teased when I stepped out of the cab at exactly 7:14.
“I know, I’m sorry. The traffic was horrible.” I figured that was a good enough excuse. I didn’t want to tell him the real reason was due to my indecision over my dress. My final decision didn’t go to my two main contenders; instead I opted to go with my royal blue off-the-shoulder dress.
“Is this where the party’s at?” I asked as we stood in front of the Capri Art Gallery.
“Yeah, it’s the grand opening. A friend of mine owns it.”
“Okay, so what’s my story?” I asked.
He creased his eyebrows in confusion.
“Umm…well, I don’t think you want to introduce me to everyone as—”
“Oh.” He was finally catching on. “Why do I have to tell them anything?”
“You don’t, but...oh, just forget it, I’ll think of something.”
We walked into the small building filled wall to wall with people. I took off my coat and draped it over my arm while his eyes gave me the once-over.
“You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
After checking our coats at the door, he reached for my hand and we worked our way through the crowd, stopping every now and then to look at some of the bizarre paintings on the wall. Simon grabbed two glasses of wine from a tray as a waiter walked by. I took one from his hand, taking a much-welcomed sip.
“Simon, hello. I’m so glad you were able to make it.”
I turned around in time to see a very voluptuous brunette kissing Simon on the cheek. Her eyes widened at the sight of me, immediately making my guard go up.
“Simon, how are you, buddy?” The man behind her extended his hand to Simon.
“Bree, this is Lyle and Tiffany Rhoads. Tiffany owns this gallery.”
“Congratulations. It’s very nice to meet you.” I extended my hand to them, cringing when the man took it in his and lifted it to his lips. My first impression of him wasn’t a good one, with the intense stare he had cast upon me, causing me to look down at myself to make sure I wasn’t standing there naked.
“It’s a pleasure.” The woman barely cracked a smile. “How are things going? How’s Jack?” She focused her attention on Simon once again, putting her arm around him and doing her best to alienate me.
“He’s well.”
“I’ve been in Rome for the past month, and I really owe you guys a visit.”
The three of them began to speak about Italy, and I felt like a fish out of water. So instead of being an intruder in their conversation, I decided to take a walk around and see if I could make sense of some of the pictures. I scanned the walls, not seeing the beauty in any of the artwork the way the others seemed to be. They all seemed like paint just slapped on to canvas—even I could do that. I found comfort in my glass of wine, scanning the room at all of the artsy-fartsy people who I didn’t fit in with. But did I really fit in with anyone?
Simon was still deep in conversation with his friends. The woman he’d introduced as Tiffany threw her head back, laughing and clinging to Simon’s arm while her husband stood there pounding down shots, screaming over the music to be heard. I shook my head and glanced at my watch. Soon this would be over. Why did he even invite me to come anyway? There were plenty of single people there, so it wasn’t like he’d have been the only one alone.
I was drawn to a painting in the far-off corner, moving closer to study it a little better. It was the outline of a woman with red blotches of paint streaming down her face. She was bleeding tears. At least that was my interpretation of it. For some reason, I couldn’t take my eyes from this piece, my own tears forming over it.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
I jumped, turning around to find Simon’s friend Tiffany standing behind me
“Yeah, it really is,” I whispered.
“That was done by a French artist who also happens to be a friend of mine. Larmes d'un pécheur,” she rattled off.
I creased my eyebrows in confusion.
“The name of the painting,” she clarified. “It means ‘tears of the sinner.’”
My eyes widened over how much I related to the picture. I turned back around to examine it once again.
“So, how long have you known Simon?”
I took a deep breath, unsure of how to answer that question. “Just about a month,” I replied, facing her once again.
She nodded. “How did you meet?” she continued her interrogation.
“Through an acquaintance.”
“And did that acquaintance happen to tell you that he owns a million-dollar company and is a single dad still mourning the death of his wife?”
It was taking everything inside of me to not lash out over her gold-digger insinuations. “Simon and I are just friends. So his financial status has no bearing on me.”
She let out a sarcastic laugh and moved closer. “You can think that I may actually believe that, but know this: his wife, the one that he’s still madly in love with, was one of my best friends. So it’s my job to look after the man she loved and her little boy, making sure that neither of them get taken advantage of.”
She flicked her hair to one side and cocked an eyebrow. Oh, how I wanted to wipe that smug look from her face, but instead I took a deep breath and internally counted to ten before responding.
“That’s very noble of you to look out after your friend’s husband like that. But I can assure you that I don’t have any ulterior motives where Simon is concerned.”
“Yeah, we’ll just see about that.”
We glared at each other, neither one of us wanting to look away first. I finally relented and began to walk away before turning back around to face her still standing in the same place with the same scowl on her face.
“Maybe you should stop worrying about looking after other people’s husbands and worry about your own.”
Her jaw lowered when she looked in the direction of her husband, laughing and carrying on in a drunken stupor, sandwiched between two gorgeous blondes with his hand on one of their asses.
“Your gallery is lovely.” Sarcasm oozed from my every word.
I wanted to find Simon and let him know I was out of there, but it was too crowded. I’d speak to him again on Thursday and square
away whatever money I owed him for not spending my allotted time at the party. I grabbed my coat from the coat check and reached for the door.
“Hey, where are you going?” Simon asked, coming out of nowhere and halting me in my tracks.
“Umm…I’m not feeling too well.” I knew I was coming off as less than believable, and that was confirmed when he raised an eyebrow at me. “Okay, you want me to be honest?”
He nodded and waited for me to go on.
“Your friend Tiffany is a bitch.”
His smile deepened, and I couldn’t help but smile in return over his amusement. “Hold up one second and let me get my coat.”
“Simon, stay. These are your friends. You don’t need me here.”
He wasn’t paying attention to a word I said as he put on his coat and held the door open for me.
“Damn, it was like one hundred degrees in there,” Simon said as we stepped out into the welcoming bitter cold air and walked down the street.
“I don’t know, it was pretty chilly where I was standing.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I know she can be a little intense at times.”
“Just a tad,” I added. “You didn’t even say goodbye.”
“No biggie. They’ll get over it.”
“If you say so. They’re you’re friends so…”
“Actually, I kind of inherited them.”
“What do you mean?” I reached into my purse and put on my gloves.
“Tiffany and Annie were friends before we met, and I grew to like her.”
“Like her or tolerate her?” I smirked.
“She’s not that bad, once you get to know her. I wouldn’t be able to deal with her personality on a daily basis. I guess that’s why Lyle drinks so much.”
We stopped at the end of the block. “So, I guess I’ll just see you on Thursday,” I said.
He shook his head, taking me a little off guard. “I believe I have you for the evening.”
“Well, I just thought—”
“Have you eaten dinner?”
“No, and actually I’m starving.”
“Good. Then would you like to have dinner with me?”
“Sure. But on one condition.”