Don't You Remember

by Lana Davison

  “Look at you all on the defensive.”

  “No, I’m just being mature about it. I’m not a teenage girl.”

  “But it’s OK to have a crush on someone, even when you’re over the hill.”

  “I’m hardly over the hill, but I’m closer to twenty-six now than twenty-five. Boo hoo…”

  “I do miss our little get togethers. Let’s do lunch this week. Can you do Thursday?”

  “I’ll make it so, Captain,” I joked, pretending to be a character on Star Trek.

  “Copy that,” he laughed.

  “Later.”

  “Ciao, Bella.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  I arrived at work and collected a selection of magazines and newspapers at reception and walked to my cubicle. I put my coffee and reading material down and turned on my computer while I took my bag off my arm and placed it in one of my desk draws for security.

  I started at the top of my pile of paper tabloids and read the front-page headlines in the papers and in celebrity magazines. They were covered with pictures of Johnny and The Fuel Injectors and Johnny and Eliza. The headlines read: ‘Will They or Wont They?’; ‘Another great night for Johnny Cromwell and The Fuel Injectors’; ‘Eliza Does Not Deny Being Engaged But Wears No Ring’. And so on and so forth. There were tons of innuendos about Johnny and Eliza’s possible engagement. I got fed up with it all and threw the lot in the bin.

  I began to sift through some files on a case I had been working on. A real life case about organized dog fighting and if there was one thing I hated more than anything, it was animal cruelty. I was going to get to the bottom of this and report on it. First, I needed to speak to my contacts at the police; two undercover cops who I had used me to help leak a story between an informant and a drug dealer. The informant was working for both sides, telling the police what they wanted to hear but steering the drug dealer away from the police by telling him about the planned bust. The police asked me to write the article as a message to the informant and the drug dealer. It was their public way of saying no one is going to do business with you now given that the police were watching.

  The phone rang and I picked it up. “Hello.”

  “Hello, you,” Sean replied.

  “Hello yourself,” I said smiling.

  “I missed you last night. I would have much rather been with you than at that meeting. It went on a bit but I had to stay until the bitter end,” he said, sounding annoyed.

  “The things we do,” I joked.

  “Yes, the things we do for our careers.”

  “Do you want to go out after work?” I asked.

  “Yeah I do. Let’s meet at 7. Do you think you’ll be finished by then?”

  “I should be. I’m going to get cracking with my report. I’m writing about organized dog fighting in New York.”

  “I hope you get the bastards.”

  “Don’t worry, I will. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s animal cruelty.”

  “OK. I’ve got a meeting to go to. Another one, on the same building we discussed last night at the work dinner. It’s never-ending. Mind you it’s a monumental project. Time consuming is an understatement.”

  “Off you go then. Speak to you later.”

  “Can’t wait.”

  “Nor me.” With that I hung up the phone.

  *****

  Johnny and Eliza flew back to New York the very next day on the band’s private jet. With seven International tours over the past ten years, the band now had their own jet with leather cream seats that reclined into beds; a fully stacked bar; small functional kitchen; two shower rooms with two toilets; and could seat up to sixteen people plus two staff.

  Johnny let Eliza and her long legs exit the plane before him or the other members of the band – it was his way of being a gentleman. They got into a security vehicle and arrived at Johnny’s apartment around lunchtime. Johnny turned on the TV and saw himself repeating his thank you speech from the night before, along with clips of Eliza. This was on the news! Hardly newsworthy, he thought to himself wanting to see what the real news was. He gave up and switched off the television, looking at Eliza standing at the kitchen with her ear to the phone simultaneously making some coffee on Johnny’s industry professional coffee machine.

  “Well it’s ridiculous; we’re just two normal people. I don’t know what the fuss is. But I promise I’ll take a look.” She paused. “Love you Mum, bye,” she said, hanging up the phone.

  “What was that all about?” Johnny asked, turning to face Eliza.

  “Oh, Mum said we’re all over the tabloids. On the news and basically everywhere,” she replied as she busied herself frothing the milk. “Do you want a cappuccino?”

  “I’d love one.”

  “I don’t know what all the fuss is.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “Mum said the headlines read ‘Will They or Won’t They?’ It’s all in relation to marriage.”

  “Can’t they just leave us alone?”

  “I know. But it does get me thinking.” Eliza said, giving another little marriage hint. “You know I’d say, yes,” she finished.

  “Yeah, well, maybe you will have to wait for a surprise,” he said, getting up and walking to his bedroom to find a sweater.

  Eliza followed and stood at the doorway with her cappuccino in her hand “You know I don’t mean to put you under pressure, but I do love you and if this relationship is going somewhere, and I think it is, then the natural progression is marriage. That’s all, enough said. I’m not saying any more.”

  “Good,” he winked. “You will just have to wait and see. I’m not saying any more either.”

  Eliza turned back to the kitchen and finished making Johnny’s drink. “Your coffee’s here, come and get it.”

  Johnny walked back to the kitchen to collect his drink and kissed Eliza on the lips. “Thank you for this,” he said, holding up the coffee mug. “It won’t be long,” he said, referring to a proposal.

  Johnny picked up his guitar and thought of Jen, as if he felt guilty now that he planned to marry Eliza. He felt stupid for thinking such thoughts but nonetheless decided to put his feelings down on paper. This was a good time to write a song – when he felt raw.

  The phone rang. “Johnny, it’s for you.”

  “I’ll pick it up in here,” he shouted as he stretched over to get the phone on his bedside table. “Hello,” he said hearing Eliza put the phone down in the kitchen.

  “Johnny, it’s Pamela, Michael’s wife.”

  Johnny paused for a moment.

  “Michael, from Hunter Management,” she continued.

  “Hi, Pamela,” Johnny said, trying to remember when he last spoke to her. Michael had a tendency to keep work at work and his home life at home, rarely mixing the two.

  “I know this phone call might come as a bit unexpected, but I’m calling because I’m arranging a surprise party for Michael.”

  “OK,” he acknowledged.

  “And, well it’s not going to be at the house, in fact I’ve hired out a club called Amber in midtown.”

  “Yes,” Johnny said wondering where this was going. Was this an invitation?

  “Johnny it has a good size stage and well, I was wondering, you know seeing you’re Michael’s favorite band and not to mention his best client, I was wondering…” She paused as if she was nervous to ask. “Well, do you think you could perform one song? Only one, no more than one. I know you don’t normally get asked this, but well…”

  He cut her off mid sentence given her nerves were talking now, “I’d love to.”

  “Oh. Oh my. Well, I didn’t think it would be that simple.”

  “No, Pamela, it’s that simple. Feel free to ask me anytime. Michael’s been good to me. I’m happy to help out.”

  “Thank you, Johnny. Thank you very much, you are so very kind.”

  “Not at all.”

  “All I need to tell you for now is to mark off 9 March. That will give you plenty of time
to get used to the idea.”

  “Um, Pamela, I play for a living. I am pretty used to it by now.”

  “Of course you are. What was I thinking? Anyway, that’s all I was calling for. Thank you again Johnny. I really do appreciate your kindness.”

  “Any time.”

  “Bye, Johnny.”

  “Bye, Pamela.”

  *****

  I walked out of the building five minutes before seven. My day had been productive; I’m right on target and will make the finishing touches to my report tomorrow morning. Even though I wore my thin jacket, the night still felt cool with a bit of a cold breeze in the air making me hunch my shoulders. I looked around for Sean but he surprised me by walking up behind me. “Boo!” he said, playfully.

  I kissed his lips, happy to see him. “I knew you were there,” I lied.

  “You did, did you?” He took my hand and led me down the stairs in front of the building. “I’m taking you to dinner. I’ve made a reservation at Ruby’s.”

  “Yum.”

  “I want to ask you something too, it’s important.”

  My mind went wild with what it might be; it could only mean one thing. He was going to ask me to marry him, I was sure of it. I suppose he could ask me to move in with him, but why would he when he spends most of his time at my place? I was nervous because I didn’t know how I should answer his marriage proposal. I began to think about Johnny, reminding myself that if I accepted Sean’s offer of marriage then there would be no hope for us. What was I thinking? There had never been any hope for us anyway, especially when he decided to leave me when I needed him the most. I’ve lived the last ten years without him. I had a shiver thinking about how undeserving he was and that this man, the one holding my hand, had proved many times over that I was special. Sean had put a sparkle back in my eyes, the one stolen from me by none other than Johnny Cromwell.

  Still walking fast, I kept up with Sean, simply because he was pulling me along holding by the hand. “It’s hard to walk fast in these in heels,” I complained.

  “I’m racing because I have made reservations and they told me if I’m not there before 7.30pm then I would be subject to losing the table.”

  Oh dear, that sounded serious. Why was he being so serious about losing our reservation? Sure Ruby’s is a nice enough restaurant, great food, great ambience and all that. But did it matter? I suppose it did matter if he had planned some special way of proposing to me. Did he have a ring placed in a champagne glass? Or would it be brought out with the dessert? I had made up my mind. What was I procrastinating for? I would say yes. That’s it. I would marry Sean.

  “Sean,” I said, stopping firmly on the pavement my feet aching.

  “Come on, we’ve got to keep going. We’re not far now,” he said, pulling my hand again.

  “Sean!” I stayed where I was. He stopped and I kissed him on the lips.

  Sean beamed, “What was that for?”

  “Because you’re wonderful and I want you to know that.”

  “You are too. Come on,” he ordered, pulling me gently in his direction.

  We continued up the road and crossed over two blocks and arrived at Ruby’s. Sean opened the restaurant door for me and let me go inside first. He walked to the maitre de at the front desk.

  “Reservation for Gallow.”

  She looked down her reservation diary and said “Ah… Mr Gallow, yes, please come this way.”

  We followed the maitre de to a secluded table set in a corner of the room. It had two candles and a single red rose placed on it.

  “Here we go. Is this table to your liking, Mr Gallow?” she asked.

  “Yes, it’s perfect. Thank you.”

  Sean pulled my chair out for me and gestured for me to sit down. I did. We got comfortable at our table and, as if on cue, our waiter arrived.

  “Can I get you any drinks?”

  “A bottle of champagne,” Sean said.

  “What’s the occasion?” I said wincing as I said the words. I had worked out that Sean was going to propose and I had the audacity to say ‘what’s the occasion?’.

  “Every day is special with you,” he responded casually as he rolled up his shirt sleeves.

  Our champagne arrived and as our waiter poured the drinks I found myself fussing with my hair, then my shirt. I fiddled with my chair as if to get myself perfectly comfortable, ready and waiting for this big bombshell that was about to be thrown on me.

  He took one of my hands and placed a champagne glass in it, then took my other hand in his hand. “I’m nervous to ask you this,” he said.

  I gulped.

  “I want to ask you to marry me.” Without letting me respond he said, “But don’t answer just yet, there’s more.”

  I gulped again.

  “I’ve been asked to set up an Office in Dubai.”

  I nodded to show I understood.

  “I want to take the job. It’s a big opportunity for me and I want you to come with me.”

  “I see.”

  Not letting me say any more he continued: “And if I do this then I will be leaving in four months. I’ll do a couple of trips there first to try and find some real estate for the office and for us to live in. If that is, you want to come. I know this is a lot to take in. It’s not just a marriage proposal, it’s also a life changing proposal.”

  “Right,” I said, pausing to think. “So when do you want me to give you an answer?”

  “When you’re sure you want to come.”

  “And, if not?”

  “Then… Well let’s cross that bridge later. I don’t want you to feel as though you are under pressure.”

  “What would I do out there?”

  “You’re a writer, you can write.”

  “OK,” I said slowly still in deep thought. “And are you absolutely sure you want to do this?”

  “Absolutely 120 percent sure. I’ve never been so sure. This is the opportunity of a life time and if this goes well then I’ll be made a partner in the firm.”

  “So this is huge. A big deal?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Getting married is one thing, changing my entire life is another. It’s not that I’m opposed to the idea, I want to explore my employment options and see what work opportunities there are for me, if that’s OK with you?”

  “That’s perfect with me. The fact that you’re not giving me a flat out ‘no’ is a bonus.”

  “Did you honestly think I would say no?”

  “Not really, I didn’t know what to think. I just told myself to go for it. To be honest I felt like I’d won this contract against the odds and that maybe, just maybe I could win over the most amazing woman I know too.”

  “You say the nicest things,” I smiled tucking my hair behind my ears.

  Sean added, “You know you could also be a lady of leisure. There would be no pressure to work. We won’t need the money; the package they’ve offered is very good. There’s a large travel element too, so we could well and truly see the world. If you want to, you could just enjoy ex-pat life and be one of those ladies who lunch.”

  “Mmm,” I said, looking at the menu. I wasn’t sure what to think about being a lady of leisure as I had always thought of myself as a career girl.

  “Oh, and one other thing,” he said while scanning the menu. “It’s my cousin’s birthday on 9 March and he’s having a big party at a new club in Midtown. We’re invited.”

  “I’ll write it down,” I promised as I opened my bag and picked out my pocket sized diary.

  “I think it’s at a night club called Amber,” he finished.

  “Right.” I noted the information in my diary and wrote the words ‘black dress’ and underlined them.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Eliza woke up next to Johnny and looked at his sweet face, all baby-like while he was asleep. She was getting more and more broody these days with her sister recently having had her second baby. She unnecessarily put herself under pressure to have children
soon as well. Eliza wanted children but she didn’t want to have them on her own. She wanted her children to have a father and someone to share the responsibility of their upbringing. And Eliza knew Johnny would be a fantastic father, he had so much to give a little person. Sometimes she imagined what their little family would look like. She saw herself and Johnny with a boy and a girl in that order, precisely two years apart. They would probably still live in New York or maybe they would move to Los Angeles or even Malibu, so the kids had more space and could be close to the beach.

  Johnny opened one eye and caught Eliza staring at him. “What?” he asked yawning.

  “Nothing, I was just looking at you sleeping. You look so sweet and innocent.”

  He laughed and grabbed her close to his body, pulling her so she fit underneath. “Why don’t you slip out of these?” he asked pulling at her tank and pajama shorts.

  Eliza took her clothes off and giggled. “What are you going to do to me?” she teased.

  “Whatever you want.” He nuzzled at her neck.

  “You do what you want,” Eliza said, looking directly into Johnny’s eyes. She really did love this wonderful man.

  He opened her legs, positioned himself between them and entered her easily. Eliza positioned her hands on his chest, feeling the firmness of his pectoral muscles. She moaned moving the arch of her back playfully enjoying his body inside her. She looked into his eyes to try and get closer to him, to connect, but somehow he looked right through her, as if somehow he was not living in the moment. Was he thinking of someone else? Was he thinking of his ghost? She reasoned with herself that Johnny had moved on, their relationship was stronger than ever. Was it Eliza who was looking too deeply into a situation that didn’t exist? Perhaps it was her who had doubts, not the other way around? She dismissed her silliness and told herself she was making a mountain out of a molehill.

  Eliza was a good lover, but she didn’t let herself go enough, preferring to pleasure her partner, rather than losing all her inhibitions and having satisfaction herself. For a selfish lover this would be the perfect relationship, but Johnny wasn’t single minded when it came to making love. For him the session was very much a win win situation for both parties. This is what he loved about making love to Jen, they were so in sync with each other, both unselfish making sure it wasn’t one sided, but equally selfish making sure that each of them was pleasured. Johnny loved the way Jen had no reservations with him and he had never found someone he enjoyed making love to quite as much. But what did that matter when she was no longer around?