I wasn’t about to argue with her. I’d actually been planning to take a half day off tomorrow to pack, so I welcomed the excuse. Still confused about her behavior, I felt a little strange just leaving and searched my mind for something to ease the mood.
Amelia reached across her desk, holding out one of her hands. Without thinking about it, I took it in mine and she squeezed my fingers.
“Thank you again, Doctor. I couldn’t have done it without you this month.”
My throat dry, I managed to say, “You’re welcome.”
The rest of the night and all the way home, my hand seemed to tingle from her touch.
Chapter Twelve
I usually find flying anything but pleasant. While I’m not afraid to fly, I do have a touch of claustrophobia that is exacerbated when I’m crammed next to a million people in a tight space. My European friends always mock what they call my American need for a “bubble,” but in my case, it’s absolutely true. Jammed in next to some gigantic man or, God help me, next to a chatty old lady that won’t let me read and needs the bathroom every five minutes, flying anywhere always makes the thought of walking there more appealing most of the time. Further, forced to look for the best bargain anytime I went anywhere, I usually had to book flights with connections through someplace that simply extended the unpleasantness for more time than necessary.
It hadn’t occurred to me that we wouldn’t be flying in a commercial airplane. I’d anticipated, with great excitement, stretching out in first class and drinking as much free champagne as I could guzzle, but, as we approached Louis Armstrong International, we took a strange turn, away from the main concourses and terminal.
I glanced over at Amelia to see if she noticed, but she was engrossed in her tablet, trying to cram information one last time before the
trip. The Rolls drove up to a locked gate that opened electronically after a brief pause. We drove to a parking area near a separate runway that held several smaller airplanes, and my stomach dropped when I saw the Winters Corporation logo on the tail of a beautiful small jet.
“Ah,” said Amelia, glancing up. “Here we are.” She put her tablet away in her purse and waited as George came around to open her door.
Too stunned to say anything, after I got out of the car, I stood there dumbly and watched as several men appeared to carry our luggage to the plane for us, bustling around with great efficiency. Another group of men and women were inspecting the plane and moving around it out on the tarmac, taking notes and adjusting things as they went.
Amelia was now looking at her phone, tapping out texts. Mirrored sunglasses covered her eyes, and her hair was uncharacteristically down, falling in dark, loose curls around her shoulders. While we would have the evening in New York to get adjusted and relax before starting work tomorrow, she was dressed, as usual, as if she were going to be in a fashion shoot later. Her makeup was expertly applied, highlighting her high cheekbones and lips. Her cool beauty coupled with her clothes and sunglasses made her look very much the celebrity. I glanced around, expecting to spot the paparazzi she’d obviously dressed up for. Clad in my oldest yoga pants and a ratty, paint-spattered T-shirt, I felt like a bum she’d picked up on the side of the road.
“Ready?” she finally asked, looking up at me.
“I’m sorry I didn’t dress up.” I glanced down at myself and gestured at my clothes.
“Don’t be silly. I told you that you had the day off today. You’re allowed to dress as you want on your own time.”
“Maybe I can change on the plane. I didn’t think about it.” I was still embarrassed. “Of course people might see us when we get there. I’m sorry. I always dress like this to fly. I didn’t expect…”
She touched my arm lightly. “Really, it’s fine. I’ll have our driver in New York drop you off at your friend’s house. No one will even see you.”
She was probably just being nice. While I’d be staying in the same hotel as she was for the rest of the trip, I’d arranged to meet up with Lana, an old graduate-school friend of mine, and was staying with her and her partner tonight. We rarely got to see each other, and when I’d made plans with her, I hadn’t thought it might not be appropriate to disappear on a business trip for an evening. At best, I was being rude leaving Amelia alone. At worst, I was being unprofessional. More than likely, I was being both rude and unprofessional. Still, it would be too awkward to cancel now and, as I hadn’t seen Lana in months, disappointing for both Lana and me. Further, I couldn’t tell if Amelia’s breezy attitude about my night away was genuine or if she was disappointed in me. Her absorption in her phone was making her opinion about it hard to read.
The pilot approached us then and invited us to board the plane. I grabbed my little overnight bag and followed Amelia across the tarmac and up the walkway, still feeling like a grubby little sister next to her.
The inside of the plane was more spacious than I’d anticipated. The seats were all a creamy white leather, wide and inviting. There was a small eating nook in one area of the plane and, I noted, a miniscule bedroom next to the surprising large toilet and shower room. Already seated, tablet on her lap, Amelia looked up at me after I’d taken the tour.
“Do you like it?”
“My God! It’s going to spoil me for regular flying for the rest of my life.”
The pilot reappeared. “Please be seated and buckle in. We’ll be departing in a couple of minutes.”
Amelia was in a set of chairs that faced each other, and I took the one across from her. She continued to look at her tablet, and I took that as a sign to start working myself. I pulled out my new laptop and opened it, reviewing once again the various art shows that were happening this week. While I’d firmly decided on at least three shows to visit, I had room in my schedule for one more. I’d narrowed down my choices to about ten more shows that had potential, and after I logged onto the plane’s wireless, I scrolled through the websites for the thousandth time that week. I was so engrossed in my search, I hardly noticed us taxiing and becoming airborne until the pilot announced that we were free to move about the cabin. I looked up, surprised to see Amelia watching me. She saw me see her stare and didn’t look away. Not able to control the tumult of feelings her directness caused, I blushed under her gaze.
“You’re a very focused person, Doctor,” she said finally.
“It’s a habit from grad school. If I get locked into what I’m doing, I’m not tempted to stop. Now I do it with almost everything.”
“I wish I had that kind of discipline. I get distracted very easily. Especially by things I’d rather look at.”
I felt my entire body flush and start sweating.
Seeing my face, she laughed. “I’m sorry, Doctor. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
“You didn’t exactly embarrass me…”
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.” Her expression was serious. “You likely saw the society spread featuring us at the dinner a few weeks ago.”
I nodded.
“And all of that talk at dinner with Brent when we were there also seemed to embarrass you a great deal. I hope it doesn’t bother you to be…associated with me in that way. The gossip-mongers always seem to want to hook me up with any woman I’m seen with. My sister Emma was once the subject of their dirty talk about me until my lawyer sent the newspaper a clear statement about us. There will likely be more of the same during this trip. If it bothers you, please say so, and I can do the same thing as I did with Emma for you.”
I hesitated, weighing my words carefully. “It doesn’t really bother me, Miss Winters. I’m surprised by it, I guess, and a little embarrassed, but I wouldn’t say it bothers me.”
“I imagined you would be embarrassed,” she said, looking a little defeated.
“What do you mean?” Her reaction surprised me.
She made eye contact with me. “To think that anyone would believe you would be with me in that way. I should be so lucky.”
I looked away,
not sure how to respond. I was quiet long enough that she apparently took my silence as assent, and when I looked back at her, she was staring out the window, her expression somewhat melancholy.
Before I could chicken out, I said, “Anyone would be lucky to be with you, Amelia.” It was the first time I’d called her by her first name, and my heart raced with my daring.
She looked back at me, obviously completely surprised, and then laughed. “I’m sorry. I’m being a petulant child. I wanted to hear you say something nice about me, and I basically forced you to. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
Before I could retort, the co-pilot opened the door to the cockpit and walked back toward us. “Is there anything I can get for you ladies? Wine? A cocktail? We should be arriving at Teterboro in about two hours.”
“Let’s start this trip out right, James,” Amelia said. “A bottle of the 2004 Belle Epoque, please.”
He disappeared into the small galley kitchen, returning a few minutes later with two glasses and a bucket of ice. He set them down and returned a moment later with the champagne. He showed the label to Amelia and she gave her approval, flashing me a quick look to show her amusement with his formality. He popped the cork expertly, poured us two glasses, and excused himself.
“To a successful trip,” Amelia said, holding up her glass. We clinked glasses, and I drank some of the very best champagne money can buy.
Chapter Thirteen
Lana seemed a little surprised to see me climb out of a limousine but didn’t say anything about it. It’d been over a year since we last saw each other in Paris, and I was happy that she looked so much better than she had at the end of her degree. Her color was back, and she looked healthy and happy. A tall redhead, she had always been something of a fashion plate, and a year in New York hadn’t changed that. We hugged for a long time, Lana exclaiming over my weight loss and long hair.
“Mostly it’s long out of laziness,” I said, following her inside past her doorman. “I kept meaning to get it cut, but you know how it is at the end of the PhD. Between the defense, graduation, and interning, I had no time at all.”
“Well, it looks fantastic. I mean, you can pull off short hair, which is lucky for you, but I think this longer style looks amazing on you.” Lana pushed the button for the elevator, and we stood there gazing at each other fondly as we waited.
“So how is MOMA?” I asked.
She sighed happily. “It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of. I mean, the money is shit. I think all museum money is shit, really, unless you’re the director or something. It certainly wouldn’t pay for my apartment if I didn’t live with Jess. But the work is incredible. The art is incredible. Even the artists I’ve met have been incredible, for the most part. I keep saying the word, but basically everything is incredible. I couldn’t be happier. If you have time this week, I’d happily take you on a private tour after hours.”
Her apartment was far larger than any I’d ever seen in New York, with floor-to-ceiling windows all along the far edge of the room. The view of Columbus Circle and Central Park was impressive, and I stood there for a moment watching the traffic as Lana prepared coffee. Unlike my other friends in New York, who were lucky to have room for a pullout couch, Lana had a guest bedroom. The luxury of all of this was striking after our hovel-like, hole-in-the-wall apartments in Paris. The difference now was that Jess, Lana’s partner, was a doctor, and between the two of them, they could afford a nice place. While I’d met Jess a few times while we were in graduate school, she had been interning and doing residency here in New York while Lana was in school in Paris, so the two had been forced to live separately the entire time Lana was studying there. Jess flew over as often as she could and vice versa, and the two of them generally hid from the world when she was visiting Paris. The stress of the degree and of being apart had taken a toll on Lana’s health. By the time of her dissertation defense last year, she’d looked skeletal, she was drinking far more than was healthy for anyone, and she had a dry, rasping cough that wouldn’t go away. Seeing her here in this beautiful place looking as good and healthy as she did now made me more hopeful about my own future.
Lana appeared a moment later with a French press and two mugs, setting them down on her coffee table. “Do you take cream or sugar? I feel like I used to know.”
“Neither, thanks.” I sat down across from her.
We sipped at the coffee quietly for a few moments before Lana said, “So tell me about this job. It’s some kind of art business? Must be a pretty impressive one if you’re jetting off to New York and riding around in limousines.”
Since she was working in exactly the field we’d been trained in, I could sense her dismissal of the work, even, perhaps, her disapproval, and this didn’t surprise me at all. I too had been somewhat dismissive of my job until I was actually doing it. I spent the next ten minutes explaining the work to her, doing my best to make it sound as impressive as it actually was. A born New Yorker, Lana, who was only vaguely familiar with the Winters Corporation, didn’t understand what the name meant and implied in New Orleans, and despite my enthusiasm and excitement, I was doing nothing to change her mind.
“But you’re basically in sales,” she said finally, “and an errand girl.”
“I mean, I guess technically, but it’s more than that, too.” I sounded unsure, even to myself.
She was still looking at me critically, but instead of getting angry, I found her disdain amusing. Seeing my expression she smiled at me. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to come off like such an ass. It’s just…” She shrugged.
“I know, I know. It’s not what I’ve trained for. I’m well aware of that. My Aunt Kate and everyone I know has basically made it clear that I’m wasting my talents.”
“When you first told me about it in your e-mail last month, it sounded like you meant for this job to be a stop-gap until you could get on at a university down there. I hear you talking now, and it sounds more and more like you want to do this as a career.”
I was surprised into silence and took a long time to reply. “I don’t think I’d say that, but I do love it. I’m surprised at how much I love it, in fact. My boss…”
“Tell me about her,” Lana said, watching me strangely. “You’ve mentioned her a few times. I take it she’s big shit down there?”
I paused again, blushing as I thought about Amelia. While I desperately tried to think up a way to cover my embarrassment, I noticed Lana watching me, eyebrows raised. “Wait a minute,” she said. She set her coffee down on the table and looked at me closely. “What’s this? Do I detect something here? Is something going on between you two?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” I was looking anywhere but at her.
She laughed. “Sure you don’t.”
The blush on my face grew hotter and darker, and I had no immediate response to what she’d just said. The truth was, I’d been thinking about talking to Lana about Amelia since I’d had the idea of staying with her. Now as I thought of it, I realized what I’d been hiding even from myself: discussing Amelia was one of the main reasons I’d wanted to see Lana. I’d felt strange the last few weeks with no one to talk to about all of the feelings I was having. While Meghan was trying to be understanding, I still felt awkward bringing Amelia into conversation with her in part because of her clear antagonism toward Amelia. Lana didn’t know Amelia, and she was the only lesbian I had even been close with. I knew she could help me figure things out. Still, that didn’t make bringing up Amelia with her any easier. Now, put on the spot, I realized Amelia was the last thing I wanted to discuss.
As I tried to make myself broach the topic, I saw Lana’s face split into a wide, knowing grin as she watched my struggle. She’d always read me better than almost anyone I knew, with or without words.
I started to sputter some excuse, too embarrassed now to say anything. However, before I could speak a single word, the door to the apartment opened and Lana’s partner Jess came in, still dressed in her scrubs
. An attending at Columbia Medical, she was in every way impressive and intimidating. Tall and muscular with a no-nonsense short haircut and a square, masculine face, she filled any room she entered with a strong sense of confidence and authority. Lana sprang to her feet and raced over to her, the two of them embracing and then kissing, deep and long. My face heated up again, and I looked away, trying to give them a moment of privacy as they briefly caught up.
“So nice to see you again, Chloé,” Jess told me as she shook my hand. “You’re looking well.”
“We were just talking about her new boss,” Lana said, grinning at me. I threw her a warning glare and she winked.
“That’s right,” Jess said. “Lana told me you were here on business. Some kind of art sales or something?”
“Something like that.” I didn’t want to explain myself again.
Jess looked sympathetic. “Well, I’m sorry you have to do that kind of work. I know it’s hard to get a place in a museum or university in your field. I hope you’re making a lot of money, at least.”
Lana pushed at her playfully. “Don’t put her on the spot, Jess.” Turning to me, she asked, “Do you want to freshen up before we go out to eat? I know Jess needs a few minutes.”
Glancing down at my ratty clothes, I excused myself and heard them murmur happily together as I closed the door to my bedroom behind me. Third wheel again, I thought to myself, a jolt of true envy spiking through my stomach.
*
“I hope you don’t mind,” Lana said once we were seated at the restaurant.
A Palette for Love Page 10