The Night Off

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The Night Off Page 19

by Meghan O'Brien


  Things with Colleen must still be bad. Colleen had been so full of anger that night, her revulsion for Nat palpable and terrifying. She knew Colleen always came first for Emily, so the fact that she hated Nat so badly made it hard to imagine a happy ending. She didn’t believe Emily would choose to alienate Colleen so she could pursue a relationship with the sex worker she’d just met. Emily’s devotion to her sister was one of the things Nat loved most about her, so she couldn’t fault Emily for her priorities.

  “But she is eighteen. And she’ll be living her own life soon.” Nat spoke to the phone in her hand, as though Emily were on the other end. “What will you have then, Em?”

  Her phone remained silent. Emily wasn’t going to call.

  “Fuck.” Nat set it on the couch cushion and dropped her head into her hands. It hurt to be apart from Emily. Didn’t Emily feel it, too? “Obviously not,” she said.

  Normally she would force herself to hang back and wait for Emily to make the first move. Tonight it wasn’t so easy to play it cool. She was nervous about tomorrow, and although Bridget had spent the weekend offering steady encouragement, what she really wanted was the simple reassurance of hearing Emily’s voice. She glanced at her cable box. It was ten o’clock, when they’d normally talk.

  Knowing she might be making a mistake, she dialed Emily’s number and held her breath as her phone rang. Her heart beat so hard she could feel it thrumming in her chest, and her stomach turned over in anticipation. Emily picked up just as she decided that she would have to leave a voice mail.

  “Hey.”

  Nat sat up, ramrod tense. Now that Emily had answered, she almost wished she hadn’t decided to call. “Hey. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called like this.”

  “No, it’s fine.”

  Emily spoke in a near-whisper, so it was difficult to discern her tone. Nat wasn’t sure whether she was pleased or upset by her decision to call, which made her confused about how to proceed, or even what to say. She decided to stay as neutral as possible until Emily gave her more to go on. “How are you?”

  Emily sniffled. “I really miss you.” She made a small, sad noise, then fell silent.

  Nat could feel Emily struggling not to say more. “I miss you, too. I figured you’d call when things had cooled down a bit, but I can’t stop worrying about you.” About us, too, but Nat left that part unspoken. “I wanted to check in and make sure you’re okay.” Nat hesitated. “And that Colleen is okay.”

  “She’s still angry.” Emily laughed without humor. “At least I think she is. She went to her orientation on Saturday morning, didn’t come back until late, and has either been out or locked in her room since. She hasn’t spoken to me, except to make snide little remarks.”

  Nat hung her head, rubbing her hand over her scalp. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so low. “I’m so sorry, Em. That’s my fault.”

  “No, it’s not.” Emily’s voice wavered. “You were only doing what I asked you to.” Guilt rang through in her words, raising the hair on Nat’s arms. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I should have known that Colleen’s behavior has been unpredictable enough lately that even a ‘guaranteed’ overnight is anything but. We should never have been at my apartment. So it’s not your fault, okay? I don’t blame you at all.”

  Nat wished that actually made her feel better. “I know you don’t have a lot of time left before she leaves for school, and that you want to make the most of it. The thought that our relation—” She stopped, wary of describing what they had in such definitive terms. Doing so might scare Emily away. “The thought that meeting me has jeopardized this time for the two of you kills me. If I can do anything to fix this, tell me. I’ll do it.”

  “There’s nothing you can do.” Emily fell silent, then sighed heavily. “She can’t stay mad at me forever. Not over this. Right?”

  “I can’t believe she’s stayed mad this long.”

  “She’s always been strong-willed, so I guess I’m not shocked. But yeah…she’s never been this upset with me before.” Emily sniffled, then whispered, “Sorry. I didn’t call because I wasn’t sure what to say. It was a long, lonely weekend, and I thought about calling you constantly, but at the same time…I don’t know. I guess I’m just feeling overwhelmed. And confused.”

  Confused. That didn’t sound promising. “I get it. I hope my call doesn’t make things worse.”

  “No.” For the first time since she picked up, Emily’s tone shifted and Nat heard familiar affection in her voice. “I meant what I said. I miss you. It’s nice to hear your voice.”

  “Yours, too.” Heart rate finally slowing, Nat stretched out on the couch and allowed Emily’s presence to soothe her jangled nerves. “How was work today?”

  “Same as always. I had a hard time concentrating, honestly. My mind is going a million miles an hour.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Nat was desperate for some insight into what Emily was considering. Did she plan to keep seeing Nat, or was whatever they had over? Did she think Colleen would ever accept her? If not, was that a deal-breaker? Trying hard not to allow her insecurity to show, Nat said, “Whatever you’re thinking about, I’ll listen. And I’ll support you however I can.”

  “Thank you.”

  Nat tried not to read too much into Emily’s refusal to elaborate. Emily wasn’t used to confiding in others, and this situation was suddenly a big, complicated mess. No doubt she had some very tough decisions to make—decisions that would impact Nat’s state of mind more than she cared to admit. But she wouldn’t interrogate or push Emily in any way. She couldn’t make up Emily’s mind for her, and begging her for reassurances wouldn’t lead anywhere good. The situation with Colleen had created so much emotional turmoil between them that she hesitated to add to it in any way.

  Emily cleared her throat. “Enough about my fucked-up life. How are you? How’s work?”

  Nat cringed. She hadn’t booked an appointment since Deb had offered her the interview. She’d told Janis that she simply needed a break, but honestly, if she got the job at Deb’s restaurant, she would never do another escorting appointment. Janis didn’t know that yet. Only Bridget knew, and that’s the way Nat had planned to keep it until after she knew whether she got the sous chef position. Choosing her words carefully, she said, “Work is work.”

  There. That was sufficiently vague.

  “Did you have any appointments over the weekend?”

  She should just lie. It would be easier. But she couldn’t—not to Emily. “No. I spent most of the weekend with my friend Bridget, watching God-awful reality television. I’m still working to restore my faith in humanity.”

  “Anything interesting coming up this week? Something kinky, maybe?”

  Nat closed her eyes. She sensed that Emily wanted to live vicariously through her, since they presumably wouldn’t be having sex anytime soon. If she were smart, she’d make something up—she knew Emily well enough to come up with a fantasy that would really get her going. But it wasn’t worth potentially getting caught in a lie. Not to mention that it didn’t feel right pretending to fuck other women when that was the last thing on her mind. “No. I’m actually…taking some time off.”

  “Oh.” Emily sounded perplexed. “Is everything okay? You’re feeling all right?”

  “Everything’s fine.” Nat weighed the pros and cons of just coming clean. She hadn’t wanted to tell Emily about the interview until she knew the outcome, but now that Emily knew she wasn’t working, withholding the truth sure felt a lot like lying. Taking a leap of faith, Nat said, “I have an interview tomorrow. For a job.”

  “Tomorrow?” Now Emily was clearly shocked. “What kind of job? Another escort agency?”

  Nat was surprised by how much it stung that Emily hadn’t assumed she might finally be pursuing her dream of becoming a chef. That was probably her own fault for not displaying more confidence in her culinary abilities, but still—it would have been nice if Emily had reacted with
excitement instead of confusion. “No. It’s a sous chef position, at a restaurant in Marin.”

  “Really? Wow.” Emily didn’t sound excited in the least. On the contrary, she radiated anxiety. “When did this happen?”

  “I set up the interview last week. I would’ve told you sooner, but…” Nat was unsure what to say. But I was worried you would think, correctly, that I was doing it because of how I feel about you? “I didn’t want to jinx it.”

  “You never mentioned that you were planning to change careers right now. Not even three weeks ago, I was only the second person you’d ever cooked for. I mean, I know you told me a culinary career had ‘crossed your mind’, but you never indicated that you were planning to do it anytime soon.” Her heart sank as Emily spoke. She’d hoped for advice, encouragement, something. Not the panic in Emily’s voice. “What changed? Why now?”

  “An opportunity presented itself. I decided to give it a shot.”

  Silence. Then Emily said, in a tight voice, “This isn’t because of me, right? Because I would never expect you to quit your job. Seriously. And I really don’t want you to make any big decisions on my account.”

  Nat bristled, both at the lack of support and the implication of Emily’s words. “I told you before that I can’t sell my body forever. That I wanted to cook someday.” She debated hiding her hurt feelings for only a moment, then decided not to. It was one thing not to ask Emily for promises, but if being together came at the cost of suppressing all her emotions, Nat wasn’t sure it was worth that. “Honestly, Em, I thought you’d at least congratulate me for trying. But I mean, don’t worry…I probably won’t get the job, anyway.”

  “I’m sure you will get the job. Your food is incredible.” Emily’s compliment should’ve given her a boost, but not like this, delivered with an undercurrent of dread. “This just…seems really sudden. Very rash. And the timing…well, it’s hard not to worry that you’re doing this because of me. Because of…whatever we’ve been doing.”

  Nat didn’t understand how Emily could manage to make her feel even worse than she had before she called. Tired of apologizing for the depth of her feelings, she said, “Would it really be so awful if you were the reason I didn’t want to fuck other women anymore?”

  Emily inhaled sharply. “Oh, Nat.”

  She knew she’d made a mistake the moment she heard the despair in Emily’s voice. “It’s not like I wasn’t already planning to try and make a change. I didn’t decide I wanted to be a chef because I met you. You’ve just given me a reason to try.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  Nat assumed that most women would be pleased that their lover wanted to be faithful. The exhaustion in Emily’s voice made it clear that her fidelity was anything but welcome. “I’m sorry that I’m having a hard time fucking other women now that we’re together. The last thing I want to do is upset you, but I can’t help how I feel. I’ve never…cared for someone before. It turns out that escorting doesn’t work for me when I do. That doesn’t mean I expect anything from you in return.”

  “That’s what you say now.” Emily sounded like she was on the verge of tears. “But how could you not?”

  “I’ve never asked you for more than you can give—not before, and not now.” Nat’s frustration bubbled over, fueled by her disappointment over the direction their conversation had taken. “Don’t turn this around on me. Don’t act like I’m the one who’s sabotaging this thing.”

  Emily drew in a breath as though she was about to fire back a retort, then stopped, exhaling. “Nat.”

  “What?”

  Sniffling, Emily whispered, “I can’t do this anymore.”

  Nat stared up at the ceiling, hollowed out by her mournful tone. She had a bad feeling about where this was heading, but she refused to make it easy on Emily. She refused to let her throw away what they’d found without argument. “Can’t do what?”

  “Whatever it is we’re doing.” Emily sounded so heartbroken that her first instinct was to wrap her up in her arms until she was better. Except she was the reason for Emily’s misery, apparently. “Seeing each other.”

  “Fucking?” Nat cringed at the bitterness in her voice. Sometimes it felt like sex was all Emily wanted from her and Nat’s desire for more was merely an inconvenience. Then other times, she seemed to reciprocate Nat’s feelings. In those moments, it seemed as though they both realized they’d found something special. This was the moment of truth. Time to find out what Emily thought was going on between them, even if it destroyed her. “That’s what we’ve been doing, right? Fucking.”

  Emily took a deep, shuddering breath. “You know it’s more than that.”

  Nat’s chest expanded until she felt like it might burst open. “So is that the problem? That it’s more than fucking?”

  Through her tears, Emily whispered, “Right now…yes.”

  “Right now, I understand. But what about after Colleen leaves for school?”

  Emily’s quiet sobs spoke louder than any answer she might have offered.

  Nat closed her eyes. All of a sudden she felt very foolish. “Colleen hates me. So I guess that’s that.”

  “Don’t blame this on Colleen.” The fire in Emily’s instant, impassioned response made Nat’s stomach clench. “This is my decision. Based on what’s right for me—and for you.”

  “Don’t tell me that not seeing you again is what’s right for me.” Nat lost her own battle with her tears. She hated being so weak with Emily, but she was done holding back. Emily was breaking her heart and Nat was going to damn well let her know it. “I’ve never dated anyone before, either. Never truly believed I would find someone who was worth it. But you are, Em. You’re so worth it. Sometimes, I swear it seems like you feel the same way. That’s why I don’t understand what’s happening right now. Or why you’re doing this.”

  “What’s happening is that I’m telling you I’m not worth it. I’m not giving you what you deserve. You’re amazing, Nat. I mean…absolutely incredible.” Emily’s voice broke. “You should be with someone who can spend every night with you, someone who can return your feelings without hesitation…someone who’s capable of even being in a relationship.”

  “How do you know you’re incapable if you’ve never tried?”

  Emily barked a joyless laugh. “Just trust me.”

  Arguing only made Nat feel more pathetic, but she wasn’t ready to concede defeat yet. “There’s something very real between us. You can’t deny that.”

  “I’m not denying it.” The raw pain in Emily’s voice sent a shiver through Nat’s body. “You’re right, we do have a connection. One I don’t want to lose. But I just don’t see a future for us…not the kind I know you want.”

  “What can you see for us?” Nat wasn’t sure she wanted the answer to that question, but she had to ask. “You say you don’t want to lose our connection. Do you see any way we can avoid it?”

  “I don’t know.” Emily hesitated. “Do you think it’s possible for us to go back to something uncomplicated? Something casual?”

  Nausea rose in Nat’s throat. “What, like an appointment? You want to just book a couple hours with me when the mood strikes?”

  Emily was quiet for a long time. Then, wearily, she said, “If that’s an option, maybe it’s the best way to keep things less personal but still see each other occasionally. I could pay you, of course.”

  Emily’s words hit her like a punch in the gut. Was that all she had been? A good lay? It shouldn’t come as a surprise, she supposed. That’s all she’d ever been to every woman she’d fucked. Why should Emily be different?

  Yet Nat had thought she was.

  Hardening her heart, Nat said, “Okay, then. I guess there’s nothing more to say.”

  “Nat, wait. I didn’t—”

  “No. You want to keep things impersonal, fine. I understand, even though I wanted more than that with you. But, hell, I’m available to anyone with enough money…right? So if you want to fuck me again, y
ou can do what everyone else does. You know, if it’s not going to mean anything, anyway.” Nat swallowed, forcing back the urge to throw up. Emily had just ripped her heart into pieces, and all she wanted to do now was hang up so she could mourn in private. “It’s safer that way, right, Em?”

  “Nat, please—”

  “If you want to make a date, just call Janis. I assume you’ve still got the agency’s number.” Hand shaking, she put her thumb on the phone’s End button. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you when I see you, I guess.”

  She hung up before Emily could reply.

  *

  Shit. Emily dropped her phone over the side of the bed, closing her eyes when it hit the floor with a soft thump. That wasn’t how she’d envisioned their conversation unfolding. After spending the entire weekend isolated from Colleen and struggling with her attraction to Nat, she hadn’t resolved anything by the time Nat finally called tonight. As selfish as it felt to still want to see Nat when it clearly conflicted with her responsibility to Colleen, she couldn’t bear to think about never being cradled in Nat’s arms again. Seeing Nat’s name flash on her phone had made her happier than she’d been since the moment before Colleen caught them.

  Yet she’d just broken up with Nat. Hadn’t she?

  Emily rolled onto her side and buried her face in her pillow. Their conversation replayed in her head, over and over. She’d been so comforted to hear Nat’s voice, even though it killed her to realize how badly she craved Nat despite the clear harm their relationship had caused to her fragile bond with Colleen. She felt guilty for wanting Nat, as though she had no right to anything of her own if it made Colleen uncomfortable. That probably wasn’t fair to herself, but she’d always put Colleen first. Always.

  Like that time their parents disappeared for two weeks when she was eleven and Colleen was four. That first night their folks didn’t come home, she had calmly made dinner for Colleen from the meager contents of the pantry, then put them both to bed. She called in to her school the next morning, disguising her voice as best she could, and made up a story about a family emergency. Even at that age, her biggest fear was being separated from Colleen if child protective services were called. So she’d simply decided to hold down the fort until their parents returned. With no money and very few groceries, she’d had to get creative. She went without, eating only one small meal a day so Colleen could have more. When their parents finally returned twelve days later, they’d offered only mumbled apologies and a box of Ho-Hos. Emily felt guilty even eating one, knowing Colleen would have less.

 

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