Serious Potential

by Maggie Cummings

  Betsy trailed her fingers along Tracy’s forearms as Tracy held her firmly from behind. “I cannot believe I waited so long to do that,” she said with a slight chuckle.

  “You and me both,” Tracy responded with a laugh of her own. “I was beginning to give up hope.”

  Betsy turned around. She touched Tracy’s beautiful face. “I’m sorry I put you off for so long,” she said very seriously.

  “It’s okay.” Tracy snuggled in and kissed her sweetly. “I’m glad you waited until you were sure. You feel okay with everything now?”

  “I do.” Betsy bit her lip and met Tracy’s eyes. “There’s only one thing.” She let the words hang between them for only a split second before breaking into a real smile. “I suppose we’re going to have to make up for some serious lost time,” she said leaning forward and kissing Tracy seductively.

  “I’m in. Can we start right now?” Tracy asked with a satisfied grin as she pulled Betsy on top of her.

  Leaning on her forearms, Betsy looked down Tracy’s body and then met her eyes, not even trying to cover the need she felt rise to the surface again. “Most definitely.”

  *

  At six twenty in the morning, a groggy Tracy stretched her arm across the empty space beside her where Betsy had spent the few hours of sleep curled against her. Shifting onto her back, she caught sight of Betsy walking into the bedroom wrapped in a towel, wet from the shower.

  “Come back to bed.” Tracy’s voice was thick with sleep.

  “I have to go to work.” Betsy sat on the edge of the mattress patting the ends of her hair. “But you can stay as long as you want.”

  Betsy leaned forward to drop a kiss on her lips, but Tracy, undeterred, placed a hand behind Betsy’s neck and pulled her all the way in. She kissed her deeply and peeled the towel away, using her whole body to coax Betsy back into the bed. As they kissed, Tracy maneuvered Betsy on top of her, their naked bodies touching everywhere.

  “A few more minutes?” Tracy breathed in her ear.

  “I shouldn’t.” Betsy started to get up, sliding a leg to each side of Tracy’s waist as she righted herself. She stopped for a second and leaned back down to kiss her again, the ends of her wet hair touching both their faces. “I have patients at eight,” Betsy whispered, making no further movement to leave.

  Tracy smiled, knowing she had her. “Not a problem.” She ran her hands along Betsy’s legs, settling her hands on her hips, inching Betsy’s body up slowly, while she shimmied herself down underneath, pressing her lips gently to the insides of Betsy’s thighs when she reached them.

  “What are you doing?” Betsy’s voice hitched in her throat.

  Tracy’s self-assured chuckle was quickly drowned out by Betsy’s low moans.

  Despite her initial halfhearted protest, Betsy relaxed easily, moving with purpose against Tracy’s mouth, gripping the headboard and breathing out Tracy’s name as she let herself go completely.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Meg was locking the front door heading out to work when Tracy pulled into the driveway. “Good morning,” she called out with a knowing smile.

  “It is a good morning,” Tracy responded definitively. She opened the car door but only got out halfway. “Hey, do you want me to drive you to the ferry or something?”

  “Nah, I’m good. I’ll just grab the bus.” Meg ticked her head to the side in the direction of the bus stop just outside the development’s perimeter. “I’m sure you could use the extra sleep right about now,” Meg added, wiggling her eyebrows. “I can’t wait to hear all the details, though. Call me when you get up.”

  “I want to hear about your weekend too,” Tracy said. “Everything good with Sasha?”

  “Everything is good.” Meg smiled big.

  “How about I meet you in the city for dinner after work? We can give each other the play-by-play.”

  “No Betsy tonight?”

  “Tomorrow night. She’s working late tonight.”

  Meg nodded. “The only thing is, I wanted to check out this hot yoga class after work.” At Tracy’s surprised reaction, Meg shrugged her shoulders. “New Year’s resolution, don’t make fun of me.”

  “Never, dude. Text me the address, I’ll go with you. We’ll eat something healthy afterward. My treat.”

  *

  As with everything even remotely physical, Tracy seemed born to contort her body with ease, the one hundred and five degree room appearing to barely faze her. Meg struggled a good deal more, but she survived the Bikram class without passing out or puking, both major feats in her opinion.

  Ninety minutes later, sitting in a sleek wooden booth in Soho, Meg sipped coconut water and listened as Tracy filled her in on what had happened—finally—between her and Betsy.

  “So how ’bout your weekend at the Cape with Sasha?” Tracy asked.

  Meg smiled. “It was good. So good.” She knew she sounded wistful. She didn’t care.

  “What did you all do for New Year’s?”

  “We just stayed in. Jesse made this unbelievable dinner for the four of us.” Her mouth turned up at the memory. “We played games. Told stories.” Meg leaned forward and toyed with the edge of her napkin. “I was nervous Sasha would back off around them. The way she does at work or with her friends.” A full smile came out. “I couldn’t have been more wrong.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Trace, she was amazing.” The pitch in her voice was high, but she couldn’t stop smiling, even though she knew she sounded dorky. “She was relaxed. Funny, charming. She told us about her time at Oxford, living in England. But it wasn’t even that.” Meg licked her lips. “She was herself. The way she is with me, when it’s just the two of us. And”—Meg looked down, a touch embarrassed about going on and on, but she didn’t stop talking—“she was affectionate. I mean not just when we were alone.” She felt herself blush. “In front of Lexi and Jesse. She was constantly touching me, holding my hand, rubbing my back. It was…it was, well you know. It was great.”

  “Oh my God.” Tracy grinned devilishly. “You are so in it.”

  “I so am.”

  Tracy raised her glass. “That makes two of us.”

  *

  “Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up.” Meg nuzzled into Sasha for warmth in the freezing vestibule as Sasha searched for her apartment keys. Finally reaching them in the bottom of her purse, she pulled them out slowly, distracted by the buzz of her vibrating phone. Her body stiffened as she read the text.

  “What’s the matter?” Meg asked.

  “Shit, Meg.” Sasha stepped away, putting some space between them as she peered down the street. “My friends are on their way here.”

  “What?” Meg was confused. “Who?”

  “Jane-Anne and Sabrina.” Sasha nervously tried to force the wrong key in the door. “Sabrina’s here. She’s been talking about coming up but when I didn’t hear from her, I figured it wasn’t happening.”

  “Shouldn’t you be happy?” Meg took the keys, finding the correct one and handing them back to Sasha. “Isn’t she your best friend?”

  Sasha shuffled nervously from foot to foot. “Yes, but”—she opened the door and talked over her shoulder—“you can’t be like this in from of them.”

  Meg stopped. “Like what?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Um, I actually don’t.”

  “Look, I just don’t want to be all couple-y in front of them.” Sasha turned around at the foot of the stairs. “I don’t feel like answering questions about us. I’m not even really sure what this is yet.”

  Meg felt her frustration rising to the surface. “What does that mean?” She shook her head. “Am I the only one who’s into this?” She took a deep breath and got her voice under control. “Come on, Sash. I thought we were together. Aren’t we?”

  Sasha looked nervous and her voice came out shaky. “We are. I don’t know.” She tipped her head to the side letting a long breath out. “I’m not where you are, Meg.” She looked at
her shoe. “Not yet, at least.”

  Meg felt both anger and hurt coming to the surface, but there wasn’t a chance to deal with either. Inside the vestibule on the other side of the glass door stood the twins, identically excited at their arrival. Sasha moved past Meg and opened the door for them.

  “Hey, guys.” She greeted them with warm hugs.

  Jane-Anne walked to Meg and gave her a quick hello hug and kiss. “Meg, this is my sister, Sabrina.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Meg forced a smile and pushed off the wall heading to the door. “I was just heading home.”

  “Meg,” Sasha started, but she didn’t say anything more.

  “I have an early morning meeting tomorrow,” she lied.

  “Geez, why go all the way back to Staten Island then?” Jane-Anne asked through a laugh.

  “Meg, you can stay if you want,” Sasha echoed. But the flat tone she put on to convince her friends the offer was made out of convenience rather than shared intimacy pissed her off even more.

  “Nope. I’m good.” Meg didn’t even try to mask her annoyance. “’Night, girls. See you at work, Sash,” she added, pushing the door roughly and heading out into the cold January night.

  *

  The next day Meg purposely stayed busy with work calls until one thirty. She was dying to talk to Sasha to hear what she had to say, to smooth over their tiff from the previous night. But she was still frustrated and she wanted Sasha to come to her. She lost that battle when she bumped into Sasha in the break room.

  “Hey.” Meg was already annoyed at herself for speaking first. She reached past Sasha and grabbed a seltzer from the company fridge.

  “Hey,” Sasha responded, looking up from the tea she was brewing.

  Meg leaned into the counter. “So, are we going to talk?”

  Sasha looked around nervously.

  “Not here obviously,” Meg clarified, reading Sasha’s body language.

  But Sasha spoke anyway. “Meg.” She dropped her voice. “I think we should stop.”

  “Stop what?”

  “You know.” Sasha gestured between them with her eyes. “This.”

  Meg put her aluminum can on the counter, her voice full of disbelief as it matched Sasha’s quiet volume. “Are you serious?”

  “I’m sorry.” Sasha’s eyes welled up, but she continued anyway, her voice shaking ever so slightly. “I don’t know what I want. And with everything going on in my life right now”—she paused, clearly trying to keep it together—“I’m not going to ask you to put your life on hold to wait for me. I’m sorry,” she called over her shoulder, leaving her steaming teacup on the counter as she fled the kitchen.

  In the days that followed Meg expected Sasha to call, or text, or corner her at work and say she had made an enormous mistake, beg for another chance. But she didn’t. A week rolled by, and then another with nothing.

  Their day-to-day routine changed very little. They still saw each other in the office and participated in group projects as required. It was what was missing that got to Meg—gone were the after-hours meet-ups, post-happy-hour or otherwise. Thursday lunches disappeared as well, a loss no one else noticed, but one that cut Meg to the core. Meg felt her heart sink when Sasha sat next to Scott during last Monday’s all-hands meeting instead of taking her usual chair next to Meg. Even though she was dead sure nothing was going on between them, Meg almost couldn’t control her facial expression when he leaned over to whisper in Sasha’s ear and Sasha held in a laugh at whatever moronic thing he had said.

  Meg confided her sorrow in Tracy and Betsy, who was around more often than not lately. They were awesome listeners and great friends, but Meg tried not to bring it up constantly. They were in their honeymoon period, spending every free moment together, cuter than cute could be. There was no need to bring them down with her drama.

  *

  Valentine’s Day approached and Meg was downright depressed, even in the face of Bay West’s newest brainchild. It was a miracle Meg had allowed herself to get talked into going to the event by her four closest friends, but probably not her best decision considering her emotional state. Still, she couldn’t really think of a plausible reason to not attend the Sweethearts and Singles Social that was slated for Saturday night. The premise that all couples—the Sweethearts—in attendance would receive a reduced admission rate, a package price, if they brought one unattached, single friend along was kind of genius.

  Both of her coupled pairs of friends—Lexi and Jesse, and Tracy and Betsy—made a game all week of getting Meg to be their single. They were having fun with it, each offering over-the-top incentives to sign her loyalty over. Meg barely played along.

  The night of the party was so brutally cold Meg couldn’t believe anyone would bother leaving the warmth of their living room. But then she did so herself, shaking her head at the packed crowd inside the Commons as Tracy negotiated their discounted entry fee.

  With a slight frown, Meg slipped on the pink rubber wristband handed to her at the door, the color indicating she was unattached. She looked around for a place to drop her stuff, but most of the tables were already claimed. Finally she spotted Jesse in the far back corner and headed that way to secure a seat with her friends. Marnie and Chris were present too, making a rare but welcome appearance at a social.

  Meg pounded two drinks, spending her time talking to Lexi and Marnie about the wedding until she excused herself to say hello to some girls she knew from the rental section. She spotted Tracy and Betsy swaying in a corner on the dance floor, looking adorable and happy and completely lost in each other. She was a little drunk by the time she spied Reina across the room and she had to narrow her eyes to focus, but sure enough Reina was sporting a pink band as well. Taking one final sip of her drink, Meg was about to go chat her up but a blondish tomboy beat her to it. For the best, she thought as she quietly grabbed her jacket and slipped out of the Commons.

  Meg pulled her winter hat down to her eyes and followed the path that wound behind the pool and the tennis courts and through the auxiliary parking lot until she found herself at the back of the rental section standing on the bluffs at the edge of the development. She was hoping the amazing view on such a clear night might lift her out of her doldrums. But when she stood by the rocky cliff staring ahead at the lights of the city across the water, she thought only of Sasha and what she might be doing.

  Walking the path back, she kept her head down until a movement by the front door of the business office of the development caught her attention. Squinting her eyes to get a clear picture, she watched as Taylor Higgins walked out the front door, looking both ways before turning back to launch herself at Kameron Browne, who exited just behind her. They groped each other openly, kissing hard as they fell into the shadows of the doorway. Meg stayed where she was, her eyes frozen open, shielded by the side of the building until she saw them depart separately in opposite directions.

  Meg’s mind populated with a million thoughts at once. For starters, she was kind of grossed out seeing Taylor, who was twenty-five at best, making out with Kameron Browne, who had to be pushing sixty. On top of that, it appeared Taylor had moved directly from Meg to Kam, which pretty much decimated her already fragile ego. But putting that self-centered thought aside, what dismayed Meg the most was what Kam and Taylor’s tryst said about long-term relationships in general, to say nothing of Kam and Mary’s relationship specifically. She’d heard the gossip about their past infidelities, but they seemed happy together when she saw them around the neighborhood. Yet here was Kam, sneaking around with a renter young enough to be her daughter, while Mary worked her butt off at the social.

  Meg shuffled back home wondering if there was hope at all for any of them.

  She brushed her teeth and washed her face quickly, wanting to avoid Tracy and Betsy when they returned from the dance. She checked her texts, and both her work and personal email accounts, but there was no message of any kind from Sasha. Reaching for the remote, she tuned into reruns of the
legal drama she used to watch with her mother and fell asleep with the covers over her head to the distinctive drumbeat of the program’s signature theme song.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Sasha was a no-show at work on the Monday after Valentine’s weekend. Come to think of it, she’d been out the second half of the previous week too. Her absence caught Meg’s attention because she knew Sasha had a client proposal scheduled on Wednesday and she was always such a wreck about big meetings that it was unlike her to miss any days leading up to one.

  Early Tuesday Meg was still watching the clock in hopes Sasha would come by and say hello, following a routine that had become somewhat regular since they’d split. Deep down Meg knew Sasha missed her, despite her inability to be ready for a real relationship. At nine twenty, Meg got up from her desk and went into the kitchen, just to pass Sasha and Scott’s shared office, but there was so sign of her, just Scott banging away on his keyboard. Meg returned to her own room just as an email addressed to the entire agency popped on her screen.

  It is with great sadness that I must inform you of the passing of Sasha Michaels’s mother, Ellen Michaels. Ms. Michaels lost her battle with cancer early Monday morning. Please keep Sasha and her family in your thoughts during this incredibly sad time…

  There was more, only Meg couldn’t read it through her watery eyes. She reached for her phone and speed-dialed Sasha. She was barely fighting back tears as she listened to the phone ring until Sasha’s voice mail picked up.