by Kaye Blue
And for myself.
Because as sorry as I felt for Alex, I had planned much the same thing for myself. And I had even managed to convince myself that it was the right thing, but after having spent these days with Alex, felt what it was like to have real emotion, I wasn’t sure if I could accept that.
Not anymore.
Twenty-Three
Alex
*
As Mia and I walked back from the sushi restaurant, I couldn’t help but consider our conversation from earlier.
It struck me that I didn’t have a real way of answering her question, but what could that answer be?
Was I happy?
That question was one that had never even figured into my consciousness. Happiness was for other people. My focus was on surviving, then thriving, and then eventually proving everyone who had ever doubted me, told me in word or in deed that I was less than them, wrong.
Happiness hadn’t come into play.
In fact, I could only think of a few times happiness had ever been a thought.
All of them involved Mia.
I hadn’t told her that, of course, and it wasn’t something I even wanted to acknowledge to myself, but it was true.
Those hours with her where I could rest, those times we spent together laughing, simply just being, those were happiness.
Without her, such a thing didn’t even seem possible, so I hadn’t even contemplated the idea, knowing that it had been forever closed off to me.
But these last weeks with her had given me a glimpse of something different.
There was still friction, right underneath the surface, that roughness, that grind, that kept me from fully falling into the hope that something more could have been possible.
But if I ignored that, I could see what could have been, how wonderful it would have been.
“You okay?” Mia asked as we rode the elevator to the penthouse.
“Yeah,” I said.
She looked like she didn’t believe me, but she didn’t press the matter, something for which I was grateful.
I reminded myself yet again that I was playing with fire, and yet again I ignored that warning.
I shouldn’t have been doing this, had come to regret in some ways that I had ever even started down this path.
But that regret was small, dwarfed by the way I felt when I was around her.
“You sure you have to go?” she asked once I had seen her inside.
I couldn’t tell from her expression whether she thought me leaving was a good thing or bad thing, but that she had even asked the question spoke volumes.
It was an interesting dynamic, one where Mia was sometimes the aggressor, but other times I could tell she was being tentative, holding back.
I hated those times.
“You want me to stay?” I asked, deciding to throw the challenge directly at her.
“Yes,” she responded without hesitation.
I always knew she wasn’t one to resist a dare, and the dare in that question had been obvious. Some part of me thought that maybe this time she would keep her feelings to herself, but she didn’t.
And I wasn’t brave enough to try to examine what they meant. Instead I looked at her, my heart elated, my mind filled with regret.
“Yeah, I do have to go,” I said.
I had been letting things at work slide, tasking my staff with more and more projects so that I could spend time with Mia, but some things needed my complete attention.
When I glanced at her, I saw the regret in her expression, something that both made me happy and made me want to take it away.
A thought, a crazy one, popped into my head, and before I could stop it, it came out.
“You want to go to Marcos’s with me tomorrow? Nothing big, just a quiet dinner,” I said.
She lifted her lids, her expression as surprised as I felt. Inviting her to Marcos’s was a huge deal, and Mia didn’t miss that.
“Would you be comfortable with that?” she asked.
Her question didn’t give me any insight into what she was thinking, and I wondered how I should answer.
“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t comfortable,” I finally settled on.
The words could have been taken as a dig, but Mia simply nodded curtly. “Excellent point. Sure, I’d love to. I haven’t seen Marcos since…”
“We were teenagers,” I said.
“Yeah. Summer of eighth grade, the year before we started high school,” she said.
Marcos, who somehow had the misfortune of having an even worse mother than I had had spent a summer with us, and he, Mia, and I had been constant companions. It was one of my fondest memories, and I was quite interested to see how the grown-up Marcos and grown-up Mia would interact.
Tried to tell myself that it wasn’t any more than that. I knew Marcos was burning with curiosity to see her, and I could do him that favor. And besides, there was no way I was going to miss Marcos’s get-together, so this was just killing two birds with one stone.
All of my explanations sounded reasonable, logical, and I was able to convince myself that yes, I was simply doing this for expediency’s sake. It had nothing at all to do with wanting Mia to be a part of my life that I had never shared with anyone else.
“I’ll pick you up around seven,” I said.
“See you then. Don’t work too hard, Alex,” she said, her expression sincere.
“No such thing,” I replied.
She lifted a brow, but didn’t say anything else, and, using all of the discipline I was able to muster, I turned and left, wishing I could do anything but.
*
Mia
*
All through the night, and through the next day, I was a ball of nerves.
Not because of seeing Marcos. He had made quite the impression when we were younger, and unless he had changed drastically, I expected him to be fun-loving, if not a little impolitic.
No, what had me on edge was the nature of this invitation itself.
Alex was inviting me into his inner sanctum. And I had no idea what it meant.
Instinctively, I knew this was not the type of thing he would do for just anyone, but what I didn’t know and didn’t dare try to guess was what it meant for me.
Maybe it meant nothing because I already knew Marcos, and Alex knew I wouldn’t get the wrong idea.
Or maybe…maybe he had started to see this as more than a sex thing, a way to get back at me for the past.
I didn’t allow myself to hope that, though I wanted to more than anything.
That want was as scary as my confusion around his invitation.
All those promises to keep myself distant, try to maintain balance, space, keep myself and my emotions out of Alex’s line of fire seemed to have fallen on deaf ears.
Because him doing this only made me want to be that much closer to him, and being that much closer to him was something dangerous.
At seven o’clock sharp, I heard the front door open and watched as Alex walked in.
As he had done so often, he had ditched the business suit and was dressed casually, a look I decided I preferred him in. There was nothing wrong with suits, and in fact he was positively devastating in them. But it was nice to see him this way. It felt like I was getting to look past the armor that he presented to the rest of the world.
“You ready?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I responded.
I had found a nice tank top and pair of capri pants, which was about as dressy as things got for me.
“I’m guessing I’m not underdressed,” I said.
Alex chuckled and locked the door behind us after we left.
“No, Marcos doesn’t stand on that kind of ceremony, so you’ll fit right in,” he said.
As we rode down the elevator, I asked, “How is he?”
“Marcos?” Alex asked.
I nodded quickly.
“You didn’t get to see him when he got older, but you got the picture. He was always that same wild, untamed
boy you met that summer. He grew up, got a little tougher, but then, something that still shocks me to this very day, he fell in love,” Alex said.
“Why does that shock you?” I asked.
“Let’s just say Marcos had some unique perspectives on that kind of thing, but he met the right woman and changed all that,” he said.
“Sounds like there’s quite a story there,” I said.
“There is,” he responded.
He opened the car door and I sat inside, then watched as he walked around the vehicle.
That was one of the new developments that I appreciated so much. Not the very act of opening the car door, which was something I was more than capable of doing myself. Rather, what it represented. At least to me, it meant he was conscious of me, concerned about my comfort, viewed me as more than a really expensive form of therapy.
So that small gesture, the others that were too numerous to count, all made this even more than I had thought it was before.
And yet again, that voice whispered that I needed to watch my step, not let myself get too involved.
But I somehow managed to tell that voice to shut up and prepared myself for this experience.
Twenty-Four
Mia
*
“Marcos!” Alex said when he walked around the side yard of a small bungalow he’d parked in front of.
“Back here,” came a muffled, deep-voiced reply.
“You don’t want to go through the front?” I asked, following closely behind Alex.
“No need. We usually hang out in the yard,” he said.
I stayed quiet, but couldn’t stop myself from smiling. The idea of Alex and Marcos enjoying a quiet evening in the yard was one that I would not have ever thought of, but one that seemed right when he said it.
When we finally turned the corner of the house, which was actually much larger than it looked from the street, I was greeted with a beautiful yard.
“This place is amazing,” I said.
“Yes, Marcos’s wife, Shay, has quite the green thumb,” Alex said.
He opened the gate and then I followed as he walked toward Marcos where he stood at the grill.
“Marcos, come say hi to Mia,” Alex said.
“One second,” he said, his focus completely on the grill. “Shay likes it medium, and I’m going to make it perfect.”
I chuckled, the serious expression on his face amusing, especially considering he was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, khaki shorts, and flip-flops.
“Where is Shay?” Alex asked.
“She’s putting the baby down. She’ll be back in a bit. The steaks will be done in ten minutes, and Ed will be back with the beverages,” Marcos said.
“Not surprised he’s late,” Alex said with a fond smile. We waited a few moments, gathered around the grill until, I assume, Marcos had gotten the steak perfect.
Once he had, he dropped his tongs and then walked toward me, his arms outstretched.
“Mia! It’s great to see you after all these years!” he said, capturing me in a giant bear hug.
And that was a very apt description for it. Where Alex was taller than average, muscular but still lean, Marcos was burly, tall, broad, and bulky. Still, he moved with the grace of a man half his size, and had a buoyant expression in his eyes.
His stubbled cheek, the way he cut his hair, and his general demeanor left me no doubt that he was a force to be reckoned with, but at least for now, he was being friendly.
“Marcos,” I said, returning the hug.
“You know, that summer I spent in your town was the best of my childhood. Bar none. I didn’t appreciate it at the time, but that was fucking awesome. Thank you,” he said.
“You’re welcome,” I responded.
I hadn’t really done anything, at least not that I could recall, but apparently Marcos and Alex shared the same fondness for that summer, and I guess to some extent the town.
Too bad it couldn’t have lasted.
“Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable. How do you like your steak?” he asked.
“Medium-well,” I said.
Marcos looked wounded, and threw a hand over his heart.
“You’re murdering meat. You understand that, right?” he said with a solemnity that was hilarious.
“What can I say? I just…”
“Right,” he said, with a dramatic shake of his head, “you’re grossed out by the blood and pink and stuff, but I gotta tell you if you have a good medium or medium-rare steak, you are in for the treat of your life.”
“Marcos, no one wants your raw-ass steak. Finish so we can sit down and talk. And I’m hungry,” Alex said.
“Yeah, yeah,” Marcos said as he went back to the grill.
There was a small table set for five or six, and Alex and I sat at it.
He chitchatted with Marcos, and I occasionally chimed in, but a few minutes after we sat down the door to the house opened.
I watched, fascinated as a very short, very curvy black woman walked out.
She gave Marcos a quick kiss, then went over to hug Alex, and then finally reached out to offer her hand.
“Hi, I’m Shay, Marcos’s wife,” she said.
“I’m Mia. Alex’s…friend,” I said, covering quickly.
“Nice to meet you, Mia,” the woman said, her face bright with a sincere smile.
“You as well,” I responded.
“Shay, can I get you to try medium-rare?” Marcos said.
She smiled once more then turned to Marcos. “No,” she said on an urgent whisper.
She walked closer to him, her voice fading on the wind, but I watched, giggling as she and Marcos had a hilariously emphatic and obviously affectionate debate about the correct temperature of steak.
I looked over at Alex, who met my eyes and then began to smile.
“What can I say? They take steak seriously around here,” he said.
I started to laugh and he joined in.
I was glad for the distraction. I had somehow forgotten to ask Alex what I should call myself or how we should explain our relationship. I also hadn’t asked him if Marcos knew the circumstances surrounding it, so I felt at a bit of a loss.
Alex, perceptive as always, seemed to sense the question.
“It’s fine. They know what’s going on,” he whispered.
I nodded, not sure if I was relieved or embarrassed.
I had never expected that anyone else would know the details, but then Alex had probably never expected that I would cross paths with them. At the very least, they seemed not to be judging me, so I decided to go with it.
“Have I missed the party?”
I turned at the sound of a new voice and watched as a man dressed in dark jeans, a dark shirt, and a black blazer rounded the house and came into the yard through the gate.
“Almost,” Marcos called without looking up. “How long does it take to get beverages?”
“Don’t be so impatient. Not just any beverages will do,” he said.
He reached into a bag and pulled out a fancy looking bottle.
“Hundred-year-old Scotch for me. And for the lady, mango juice,” he said, settling another bottle in front of Shay.
He bowed, the movement making the last rays of evening sun bounced off his dark hair and playing up the auburn highlights.
Then he shifted to look at me.
His face was classically handsome, his eyes as dark as the hair on his head, his neatly trimmed beard giving him an overall handsome package.
“I’m afraid we’re not acquainted. There’s no way I would have forgotten you,” he said.
“I’m Mia. Alex’s friend,” I said, extending my hand.
“Pleased to meet you, Mia,” he said, taking my hand and then placing a soft kiss on the back.
A little slick for my taste, but he seemed friendly enough.
“Alex,” he said, giving Alex a big smile.
A smile that Alex actually returned. “Ed,” he said, shaking the other man�
��s hand.
“Soup’s up,” Marcos called.
Ed rounded the table and sat on my opposite side, leaving Shay and Marcos across the table. As the night progressed, I listened to Alex and Marcos trade barbs, with Ed occasionally chiming in, and Shay and me gabbing about this and that.
“What do you think about the steak?” Marcos asked after we finished dinner.
He peered at me intensely, green eyes not quite the same as Alex’s, but still familiar.
“He tried to pawn one of those steaks off on you, huh?” Ed whispered conspiratorially.
I laughed, as did Alex and Ed.
“Don’t try to pressure our guest,” Shay said.
“I just asked the question,” Marcos replied, lifting his hands innocently.
Shay scoffed but then looked at me. “Mia, please don’t feel like you have to answer that question,” she said.
I laughed, and then looked at Marcos.
“Don’t worry, Marcos. It was delicious,” I said.
He looked relieved, but then smiled and said, “I had no doubt.”
I chuckled, and Shay rolled her eyes, and nudged Marcos lovingly.
Then I heard a sharp cry through the baby monitor at one end of the table.
“If you’ll excuse me for a moment, Mia,” Shay said. “You three behave.”
She got up and went to attend to the baby, and then Marcos looked at me.
“Mia, you mind if I borrow Alex and Ed for a minute?”
“This can wait,” Alex said.
I shook my head quickly. “No. It’s no problem,” I interjected.
“It shocks me to say this, but I agree with Alex. Work can wait,” Ed said.
“Fine, but we need a meet sometime this week,” Marcos said.
Alex smiled. “I thought I was supposed to be the workaholic.”
“I can’t catch a break today,” Marcos said.
“The both of you are all business. That’s why you keep me around,” Ed said.
“I’m not sure why we keep you around,” Alex said teasingly.
“A weaker man might be wounded,” Ed replied, his eyes sparkling. “But I know you love me.”
He blew Alex a kiss, and Alex responded by throwing his napkin at Ed’s head. Everyone laughed, and after a few more minutes of conversation, Ed stood.
“Mia, it’s been lovely,” he said, smiling widely.
“Great to meet you, Ed,” I responded.