Missing Beats

by K. L. Shandwick

  “I’d like that. Where did you have in mind?”

  “The Drake?” My heart stuttered in my chest because that’s where we had our first date and that fact wasn’t lost on me. I must have taken too long to answer because he added, “Yeah, it’s where we began so I thought it was as good a place as any.” It was as if he’d read my mind.

  Once we’d arranged our dinner date our conversation carefully avoided anything that may have sparked any emotive discussion, and ten minutes later our call was done. I lay back in the bath wondering if we’d ever have the natural carefree feeling we’d had before Kane showed up. I worried that if we couldn’t get that back whether reuniting would be a waste of time.

  *****

  For the rest of my week life was pretty uneventful. I’d kept my world small, refusing an offer of drinks after work with Candice, and had closed her down the one time she mentioned my love life. I had become an expert at avoidance to anything she said that would open that particular avenue of conversation. All in all life at the office and at home became a little more sedate as the days passed.

  Occasionally, my mind ticked over thoughts about Kane and Elliott before I mentally forced myself to put any notion of Kane to one side. He’d pretty much done me the best favor he could have when he had ended the call. It had gutted me but it gave me the fire to fight the good parts of seeing him again. Hanging up was pretty symbolic because it was almost akin to what he’d done before, when he simply cut me off all those years ago.

  *****

  By Saturday night, the horrible nerves in my belly were back, and I was apprehensive. I wasn’t sure how dinner with Elliott was going to pan out because he hadn’t called me all week after the call on Thursday. Us trying to take things slowly wasn’t helping me to feel any sense of security. A passing thought made me wonder if Elliott was thinking the same. Torturing myself I sat with my phone in my hand wondering if I should call him to confirm the dinner date and decided it was ridiculous for me to be this worried about something that was supposed to be my future.

  Deciding whatever would be would be, I turned on the TV and tried to find a movie that would take my mind off things. Some things just can’t be avoided because when I thought I had, lo and behold, there was Kane sitting on another fucking sofa, a blue one this time, headlining a prime time TV chat show. He looked so damned sexy and lickable. My reaction was instant, I wanted to mount the TV on the wall to get at him. It’s a test. It has to be. He’s so fascinating to look at. Life is so cruel sometimes.

  “So where to next? Where do we have to alert the city authorities of the sudden influx in restraining order applications?” The male interviewer asked smugly and chuckled while the studio audience screamed in appreciation when Kane smiled seductively and winked at the camera. “Maryland. I have some urgent personal business to take care of back there,” he said, smirking sexily as he ran his hands through his hair.

  My gaze fell to my hands for a second as I languished in the memory of the luxuriously silky feel of his amazing dark hair running between my fingers. One thought triggered another, his strong hand winding my hair around it as he pulled it tightly and extended my head back to kiss me. Shit! I groaned out loud. He wasn’t even in the room and my thighs squeezed together to soothe the pulsing ache of desire for him. And damn, the Maryland comment was almost missed because I’d been objectifying him again. Well he isn’t coming back here!

  Turning the TV off, I threw the remote down and made my way to the fridge. I grabbed a bottle of wine—there’s no way I’ll get through the night without a little Dutch courage after the feelings he just evoked while I was simply sitting in a chair and he was hundreds of miles away.

  I pulled up my brother Matt’s number, looking for some normal male company, and when I reached him I was out of luck when he told me he was about to go into a Broadway show with his latest squeeze. Smirking, I ended the call and thought it must be love because he hates musical theatre shows.

  It was 11:30 pm when I drained the last of the wine from the bottle into my long-stemmed glass and realized I’d drunk every last drop. And it wasn’t even the standard sized bottle I usually took a week to drink. It was the larger economy one I’d use if I had people to dinner. Feeling brave and very drunk I decided to call Kane back and give him a piece of my mind for fucking up my life.

  Fumbling for my phone I scrolled down through the last incoming calls and found his on the sixth number down. It rang twice and a woman with a Southern accent answered. “This is Kane Exeter’s phone. Kane can’t come to the phone right now because he’s a little busy…Oh God, yeah, there…right there,” she moaned loudly in ecstasy. I think I threw up in my mouth a little at the sound of her.

  I felt distressed and quickly cut the call. I threw my phone toward the far end of my sofa like the damn thing had burned me. I sat in shock staring at it like Kane was somehow going to be able to see my reaction from inside it. What did I expect? I wasn’t sure but not that. I was mortified I had allowed myself to sink so low. Well you definitely dealt with that well. Good job, that told him.

  Slouching further down on the sofa in my drunken state, I was too numb from all the alcohol to have any real feelings or even think straight after that. I couldn’t even cry. He didn’t deserve me to anyway, he’d moved on to groupie number six hundred and whatever. It’s what I wanted, right? And I have Elliott.

  *****

  When I woke with my neck in an awkward position, I had the sudden recollection of the night before, despite the fog from the alcohol. I cringed feeling sorry for myself as I tried to move. I felt like death. Stretching out, every muscle in my body felt stiff and my mouth felt like someone had been stuffing flour coated cotton balls in there. Standing up took more skill than I expected and after swaying a little I made my way to my bathroom. I winced when I saw the state I was in. My teeth and lips were stained red from the wine, and my stomach felt like someone had inserted a lead balloon in it. If anyone had seen me like that they’d have staged an intervention and dragged me off to rehab. Who said I couldn’t party like a rock star? One night of that is enough to last me a year, yet I’ve managed to be carelessly drunk twice in the space of a couple of weekends since Kane showed up. I frowned, an instant ache in my chest because I was so damned bad at trying to do the right thing.

  Thinking of Kane made me wonder if I’d dreamed the whole phone call thing, but when I saw my cell lying where I’d thrown it, depression set in and I prayed that by some miraculous intervention he wouldn’t know I had rung. Glancing at my screen confirmed that miracles rarely happened because he’d tried to call me back. Twice. My dry mouth seemed even more parched and my throat closed with emotion at my stupidity of opening the line of communication again between us.

  The familiar message icon was showing on the left-hand side of the screen. I placed my cell, screen down on the table, ignoring the message and I headed to take a shower. I tried to convince myself I’d feel better afterward. I didn’t, all I achieved was diluting the salty tears from the warm spray that ran over my face. The feeling was a mixture of suffocation and drowning as I stood, face up, and tried to wash the memories of the past week away. I thought that for someone who had previously been particularly well-balanced, some of my more recent decisions had been less than sound.

  Denying the feelings I had for Kane, I was determined to give Elliott my full attention from that point on. I blamed the wine for my lapse in judgment and used the rest of the day to preen myself ready for dinner with him. When I left the sanctuary of my small apartment to meet him for dinner, visually I bore no scars of my induced alcohol coma from the night before. Inside I felt like a train wreck; a big one, and I was still suffering from a hangover. However, as I sat in the cab on the way to the hotel I was hoping to give Elliot the girl that caught his eye the first time we met.

  There was nothing more I could have done with how I looked that evening. The attention to detail I’d worked hard for took hours, but had
looked effortless. The Stella McCartney dress I had chosen to wear was as sexy-as-hell. Midnight blue velvet with a plunging neckline and a bare back. The material started just above the dimples at the base of my spine and accentuated every curve beautifully. It was the best fitting dress I’d ever owned and I knew the dress turned heads.

  I had debated whether to wear it or not because I wasn’t sure if it made my appearance overtly sexy given the circumstances, but once I’d tried it on there was nothing else that compared. It was unlike me, but I had to power dress to give myself some courage. Elliott’s reaction to how I looked was worth all the effort I’d made. He greeted me with a wide smile and eyes that couldn’t hold my gaze as he appraised what I wore.

  “You look stunning, Josie,” he gushed his approval as he led me into the restaurant. Placing his warm hand on the small of my back, he gently stroked my skin with his thumb. A small shiver ran up my spine as the maître d’ pulled out the chair for me then for Elliott. His strong palm brushed across my lower back before he dropped it to his side and took his seat after I had taken mine.

  At first things were a little strained between us, each of us remaining on safe, mutual ground as we spoke about work and movies, all the while ordering food and drinks. Elliott scowled at the waiter for talking to my cleavage rather than to me.

  “I almost covered you up with a napkin there,” he said, without a hint of humor in his tone.

  “Well…I suppose if I wear something like this for you, and you take me out in public, someone is bound to look.”

  “If I stab them in the eye with my fork do you think they’ll get the idea I don’t like it?” he questioned, in a tone that was a little less aggressive.

  “Next time, I’ll wear a sweater,” I said deadpan, thinking the dress had been a stupid idea.

  “Don’t you fucking dare. Your breasts look amazing in that.” I glanced around as heat rose to my cheeks ensuring that no one had heard him.

  Normally if a guy said something like that to me he’d be wearing the drink and I’d already have called a cab home, but it was Elliott sharing a private joke between us. So why does it still feel wrong?

  “How was yesterday, did you do anything exciting on your day off?”

  I sipped my wine, and took my time, for several reasons. First, the smell of it made me want to vomit because I was still hung over, and secondly, I had been a little excited when I called Kane before the woman answered. And most of all, I didn’t want to lie. The conflicted feelings I had been experiencing were killing me.

  “Stayed home, watched TV, drank some wine and fell asleep,” I said, missing out the part where I was completely wrecked and called Kane, interrupting his groupie sex.

  “Sounds relaxing.”

  Having my toenail extracted with rusty pliers would have been more relaxing. “What about you, did you do anything good?” Shifting the focus away from me was the best plan I’d had all day.

  “Yeah.” Elliott looked past me and I turned to see what he was looking at but there was only a waiter passing.

  I giggled when he didn’t expand on his answer. “Are you going to tell me what you did?” I asked, smiling at the expressionless look on his face.

  “Met up with a friend that came to town and I ended up getting home at 10:00 am this morning,” he said, fingering his silverware as he ran his index finger up his wine glass collecting the condensation.

  His honest answer pissed me off. I had been torturing myself at home while he’d been out partying with one of his buddies. I knew I had no right to feel the way I did because of what I’d done. We were supposed to be starting again. But then again, I had called Kane so what gives me the right to put my foot down?

  “And where is this buddy now? At home still recovering from the excess?” I asked, trying to keep the annoyed tone from my voice.

  Elliott stared at me with an intensity that riveted me to my chair. “She’s flying back to California. She’s been here for two days.” The way he delivered the bombshell was callous and I knew it was meant to sting. It had stung. Everything he’d said to me was a lie. Elliott hadn’t forgiven me at all, he obviously wanted revenge.

  Chapter 14

  Attracting attention

  Oh my God! What am I doing here? When I began to rise from my seat Elliott grabbed my wrist and pulled my arm down so that I had no choice but to sit back in the chair.

  “Don’t start acting like the wounded party, Josie, you’re the one who fucked the rock star remember?” The icy tone of his voice gave me chills, but I was damned if I was going to let him humiliate me.

  “How could I forget when he was so much better than you?” I spat back, wanting to hurt him for punishing me the way he was.

  “Really? You have no idea what I’m like between the sheets, I gave you the dumbed down version. We were new remember? I don’t know what you’re getting your panties in a twist for, I spent some time with Katie…and damn it was a good time, and now we’re even.”

  You think? By that point I didn’t care who was looking, how I was dressed or if I ever set foot in The Drake Hotel again. The way I’d tormented myself for letting him down had been unnecessary, because for the previous two days he’d been screwing his old flame in some skanky hotel while I’d been denying the best sexual encounter of my life in my efforts not to disappoint him again.

  “Let go of my arm. Let it go right now,” I growled in a low voice and glanced nervously around me.

  “And if I don’t?” he sneered, looking at me menacingly.

  Grabbing the table cloth in my fist, I raised an eyebrow. “You want to humiliate me, Elliott? Then I guess I’d better make it worth it. Let go or I’ll be attracting a whole lot more attention—”

  “Damn, baby, so glad you came.” All of a sudden Kane was standing beside me and from the scowl he had on his face he’d obviously seen the frightened look on my face as he quickly surveyed the scene.

  “Is this guy bothering you, baby?” Glancing up in confusion, first at Kane, then to Elliott, I wasn’t sure who was the most shocked to see Kane, him or me. Everyone in the restaurant had fallen silent when they realized Kane Exeter was there. Most of the patrons had taken out their cells to capture the moment.

  “They didn’t call my room to let me know you’d arrived so I came down to check. Have you been waiting long?” His comment took me by surprise and I couldn’t understand why he had been expecting me.

  Elliott’s grip had gone slack the moment he’d seen Kane and as soon as I’d noticed this I pulled my hand free. I stood up, almost too close to Kane, and although I was relieved that he had intervened, I had no idea what was going on. Looking around the room I was aware of the other diners watching us. I was in no fit state to deal with either of them by that point. “Here take my seat, you two deserve each other, I’m out of here.” Shoving my way past Kane, I was disgusted that I had let myself get into such a position between two men. That happened to other girls not me. In my haste to leave, my velvet dress caused friction against the starched white, cotton table cloth, displacing everything on the table.

  All eyes were on me as I fled the restaurant to the sound of Kane calling my name. When I saw at least three people taking pictures of the scene, I about died of shame over the whole sorry chapter in my life. By the time I reached the street a yellow cab was parked close to the sidewalk at the side of the hotel. Hurriedly, I flagged the driver so that he wouldn’t drive off. I slid into the seat and closed the door feeling relieved to be out of there. When I looked through the restaurant window I saw Kane still standing by the table. Elliott was out of his seat squaring up in confrontation with him and I felt a new level of shame while I mumbled my address to the taxi driver. My eyes were fixed on the scene and I continued to watch the mess I’d made until we pulled away from the curb and I lost sight of them.

  Fighting back tears I called Candice. “Hello?” I said when I heard her voice. I couldn’t attempt another word after that
because I was an emotional mess. My throat constricted and I swallowed painfully.

  “Are you there, Josie? Has your phone called me from that huge ol’ purse again?” she asked, laughing.

  “Sorry, I’m here…” Again, I struggled and as if Candice sensed it she asked, “Where are you, Josie? Are you okay?”

  “Going home,” was all I could manage.

  “On my way,” she said intuitively, knowing I needed someone with me. I closed my eyes in relief that she hadn’t asked any questions. Her apartment was only ten minutes from mine and I knew she’d arrive there before I did. She had a spare key and could let herself into my apartment so I wasn’t worried about her hanging around outside in the dark. Knowing she’d be waiting for me was comforting and I sagged back into the black leather seat and let the tears I’d been biting back stream down my face unchecked.

  Paying the cab driver, I avoided eye contact with him. I walked quickly inside my building when I saw my next door neighbor, Barney, leaving at the same time. He gave me a friendly greeting as he passed me. I wasn’t in the mood for small talk and ignored him, and quite frankly, the way I had felt, he was a prime candidate for a kick in the balls, because my hate for all men felt real. I pressed the button incessantly for the elevator, taking my frustration out on the poor thing because it was either that or punch the wall and swear like a sailor.

  The ride up to my apartment seemed slower than usual, and just as I reached my apartment door my cell began to play that stupid Beyonce ringtone I’d forgotten to change. Since Kane had gone I had set my phone to vibrate and I must have knocked it from vibrate to ringtone again without realizing it. Thinking it may be Candice I pulled it out of my bag and saw that it was Kane. What the fuck? Why can’t he just leave me alone? Why was he even there?

  This was all too much to deal with. I placed my key in the lock, but Candice beat me to it by pulling the door open before I could use the key. “Thank God you’re okay. Where were you? What happened?” She grabbed me and hugged me tightly before pushing me to arm’s length to look at me. One look at my face had her backtracking. “It’s okay, you don’t have to answer. It has something to do with Elliott, right? It was him you were meeting? Where did you have dinner?”