by Lane Hayes
Two
FRIDAY TRAFFIC was brutal. As usual. I switched lanes as I neared the La Cienega exit off the 10 freeway, then refocused on my hands-free Bluetooth conversation with Jake. He sounded pissed.
“Please tell me you’re on your way. She’s three sheets to the wind, and it’s seven thirty. A little assistance would be appreciated, asshole.”
“I’m close. The traffic sucks, man. I’ll be there soon. What do you mean, though? When did Julie get to your place? I thought she said seven. I’m not that late.”
He huffed in irritation. “She went to Bran’s store when you didn’t show up this afternoon. You told her you were leaving early today. Ring any bells? She said she got tired of your same ol’ shit and left to find someone fun to hang out with, which means she’s been glued to my boyfriend for the last three hours. Why do you make plans with her and not follow through? Jesus, Nate!”
“Jake. I was at work. Look, tell Bran I’m sorry.”
“Bran isn’t the one who’s mad, asshole. Just get here.”
He hung up before I could respond. Jake was extremely mild mannered. He didn’t get angry easily, and it didn’t make sense that he’d gripe about hanging out with Julie before I got to his house. She was his friend too, for fuck’s sake. And Bran loved her. They could spend hours talking about fashion, movies, and recent celebrity mishaps. They didn’t need me there. I swiped my hand through my hair in agitation as I navigated my Range Rover through a veritable sea of red lights. My weekend was not off to a good start.
THE SPANISH-STYLE front door of Bran and Jake’s bungalow swung open before I had a chance to knock. I heard their old yellow Lab, Mack, bark as he ambled over to greet me with his tail wagging happily. I bent to scratch between his ears, then cautiously glanced up and handed my host a bottle of Cabernet. Jake scowled but took the bottle wordlessly and gestured for me to follow him to the kitchen.
“Where are Bran and Jules?”
“Outside. We’ve been feeding her appetizers and water, but I don’t know what time she started. Dude, she was bombed when Bran brought her home. And no, they didn’t go to a bar first. She hired a driver and showed up to his store already blasted.”
“What got into her? She likes a cocktail or two, but it’s not like her to get tanked.”
“We’ll talk later. Just do me a favor.”
I nodded as I took in Jake’s grim expression. He gazed at me pointedly, and his mouth was set in a straight line. In other words, he was serious.
“Be nice. Don’t….”
“Don’t what? I’m always nice.”
“Right. Come on.”
I followed him out the kitchen door leading to their expansive backyard. Bran had lived in the small two-bedroom West Hollywood bungalow for five years now. When they officially became a couple a little over a year ago, Jake and Mack moved in too. The house itself was cozy, as in tiny, but the grounds were larger than expected. We found Bran and Julie sitting under a bright red umbrella at the wooden picnic table on the patio. Julie was slouched in one chair with her legs propped by the one Bran was sitting in across from her. She was wearing tight white jeans and a snug-fitting light pink top that accentuated her generous breasts. Though the sun was low on the horizon, she wore a huge pair of dark sunglasses too. Bran looked up and made a funny face as he gestured for me to take the chair next to Julie.
“Was traffic awful, hon? We barbecued the chicken and mixed the salad already so we’re good to go. I hope you’re hungry!” Bran was always cheery, but his tone was a touch manic, and his smile was too bright. “I’ll bring everything outside. Be back in a sec.”
“I’ll help you,” Jake offered, obviously glad to leave me with our schnockered friend.
I tugged at the pant leg of my navy Zegna suit and shifted in my chair to get a better look at Julie, who had yet to acknowledge my presence. I cocked my head slightly and lifted my right hand to brush her blonde curls away from her cheeks.
“Hey there. You okay?”
She sniffed and nodded but still wouldn’t look at me. Or talk to me.
“Jules, what’s wrong?”
This time I got a humorless half chuckle as she shook her head in disbelief. “Really, Nate?”
“Uh.”
“We talked the other day. You said you wanted to get out of the office early today. You said you—whatever. It’s the same story, different location. I’m not surprised. I just wish….”
I gulped and said a quick prayer she wasn’t about to go down an old worn-out path. We’d been here before. She said she knew we weren’t good for each other. Why was she doing this now?
“Jules, I’m sorry I’m late. I had a meeting and traffic was terrible.”
“And you don’t know how to use a phone? Hey. I know better. Or I should. Let’s have a glass of wine. Open one of Jake’s fabulous reds, darling, and let’s celebrate.”
I eyed her warily, not trusting her mood. “What are we celebrating?”
“Summer. Autumn. Life. Love. Work. Pick your poison. Just open a bottle of red, and I’ll drink to whatever you want.”
I smiled wanly and loosened my tie. I was aware of her watchful gaze through her dark lenses and wondered what was going on in her head. Fuck. There was no hope I’d be able to gauge her turbulent thoughts without her help, and I was afraid I didn’t want to know anyway.
“Be right back.”
“Hurry. They’ve been stingy with the alcohol all night, Nate. I’m desperate.”
Great.
THE REST of the evening was painfully uncomfortable. Three grown men looked on helplessly as the lone girl in the group went from bouts of hysteria jumping from one over-the-top tale of the woes of a jewelry designer slash single woman on the go to the next. She only had one other glass of wine, but it was enough to propel her to another realm. A raunchy one. She was the only one ready to swing from a chandelier as we all shifted awkwardly in our seats. If everyone in our small group was partying at her level, we probably would have shared a laugh at her story about the well-hung sausage maker who couldn’t keep his eyes off her tits whenever she went into his store.
“Seriously. I can’t stop looking at his sausage and his eyes are glued to my chest! I’m pretty sure I ordered an eight-inch kielbasa last time I was there. The guy didn’t blink. Like every woman walks into his store ordering it up by the inch. Anywho, the bulge in his pants makes me think he’s got closer to ten. Is that even possible? Do guys really have ten-inch dicks? Bran? Enlighten me!”
“You never can tell, honey. Here, drink some more water.” He handed her a full glass and clandestinely moved her wineglass out of reach, giving Jake a meaningful glance to get rid of it immediately.
“I have to use the bathroom. I’ve had too much water already.” She hiccupped as she stood and swayed unsteadily on her feet. “Be right back.”
When she bumped into the door, Bran sprang to his feet to help guide her. He threw a wide-eyed, panicky look over his shoulder as she clutched at his elbow, but Jake and I were equally flummoxed. I’d never seen her so fucked up. I licked my lips and took a sip of water. Wine suddenly had zero appeal. Jake and I stared at each other for a moment.
“What the hell happened tonight? I don’t get it.”
“What exactly don’t you get? She’s still in love with you, moron.”
“In love?” My face contorted to show my astonishment, and my stomach sank uncomfortably.
“She came to LA for you. Not for Bran and me. I know this hasn’t been easy, and you might not like the idea, but you’ve got to talk to her, Nate. You have to be clear.”
I sighed and reached for my wineglass. “We’ve been through this a million times. We’re good friends, and we always were, I don’t get why—”
“You send mixed signals. That’s why.” Jake absently stroked Mack’s fur and stared out into the darkened yard. “She’s having a hard time coping. Just talk to her.”
“Again.” I shook my head and took a healthy sip of w
ine.
“Maybe you weren’t clear the first time. She’s—”
“Passed out cold,” Bran supplied. He stood in the doorway with one hand draped theatrically over his heart and the other on his hip, casting a wary gaze toward the house. “We need to move inside to keep an eye on her. But before we do, Nate, Jake is right. As difficult as that conversation may be, you need to set her straight. That means you’re going to have to talk about what happened in detail because she obviously still thinks there’s a chance for you two. And let’s call a spade a spade, you have a tendency to speak through unclear action rather than words.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You told her she should come stay with you this weekend.”
“That’s not quite how it went. She told me she was coming to dinner here and then asked to stay….” I sighed. “Should I have said ‘no, sorry, you have to stay with Bran and Jake and listen to them having sex all night’?” I made an effort to keep my voice down, but Jake shushed me as his boyfriend burst out laughing.
“She said that? Aw, I’m blushing,” Bran teased.
“You fucking love it, weirdo. Stop torturing me, and give me some advice I can use. Please.”
Jake rolled his eyes at me as he pulled Bran’s hand so he’d move closer to his chair. I watched their interplay. Hands on shoulders, fingers entwined. No words required. They moved in synchrony. I swallowed hard as I acknowledged for the first time I’d never experienced that type of harmony with a partner. Ever. Certainly not in my marriage. And I knew there was no hope of finding it with Julie.
“I’ll spell it out for you.” Bran pointed toward the house theatrically. “That drunk-ass girl passed out on our sofa needs you to clearly tell her you’re her friend, and there is no hope for more and never will be. You need to let her know what happened last summer isn’t something you want to repeat.” Bran squeezed Jake’s hand and kissed his cheek before turning toward the back door. “Shit. I’d better get her a bucket.”
Bran scurried back inside, leaving Jake and me sitting in strained silence.
“I’m sorry, Jake. I really thought… I thought she was better.”
“Me too. Thankfully, she loves Bran, and he’s amazing with her. I think he managed to keep her from dwelling on things.”
“He’s a good man. He knows I like him, right?”
Jake gave me a sardonic half grin and nodded. “Bran is very comfortable in his own skin. You don’t need to assure him you care. He knows.”
“You’re lucky. He’s good for you. Better than Derek was.” I tried for a lighter tone but failed. It probably wasn’t a smooth move to mention an ex he’d been broken up with for almost three years.
“He is. And yes, I’m very lucky. You do realize that’s the first time you’ve said it out loud. I mean the part about Bran being better for me than Derek.”
“Point taken.” I let out a breath of air I hadn’t been aware I was holding. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow. You okay with her spending the night on your sofa? I don’t want to transport her to Santa Monica in her current condition.”
“No problem. I’ll drop her off in the morning to pick up her car. Just make sure you have aspirin, lots of coffee, and have thought a little about what the fuck you’re going to say. Because if you don’t… this is never going to end.”
SATURDAY MORNING dawned bright and beautiful. I wasn’t one to sleep in on the weekends. My usual routine was to get up early, exercise, and then get to work. There was always something to catch up on from the previous week or a chance to prepare for the upcoming one.
After a five-mile run, a refreshing shower, and a healthy breakfast, I should have been raring to dive into my project, but I couldn’t concentrate. I stood on my balcony overlooking Ocean Avenue and cradled my third cup of coffee as I stared out at the impressive view. An even row of tall, majestic palm trees dotted the boardwalk and the Pacific Ocean looked calm and inviting beyond. It was a gorgeous, mellow day in perfect contrast to the stormy aura of misery I sensed looming. I used my usual tricks to strengthen my defenses, but it was hopeless. A thick shroud of pain fell over me like a prickly blanket, leaving me restless and uncomfortable.
A light knocking startled me. Time’s up. I sighed heavily and turned to open the front door. Julie stood in the doorway wearing an oversized black T-shirt she must have borrowed from Jake with her white jeans from the night before and those humungous dark glasses. She looked miserable.
“Coffee?” I offered.
“Yes. Please.” She followed me to the kitchen and sat heavily on one of the barstools. When I set a steaming cup at her elbow she smiled weakly and made a grunting noise I took for a “thanks.”
An uncomfortable silence fell as she picked up the cup and looked anywhere but at me. I studied her blonde curls and pretty petite features and wondered why I wasn’t attracted to her. She was a smart woman. She was funny, successful, and a truly loyal friend. But you can’t fake chemistry.
I had a sudden flash of memory of Alex standing where I now was with his arms crossed over his chest, challenging me relentlessly about music, family, and speaking Spanish. The spark of humor mixed with varying degrees of disbelief in his expression resonated with me in a way I didn’t understand. Actually, that was a lie. I understood the attraction. I just didn’t want to deal with it. And I had to fix this first anyway. I licked my lips nervously and cocked my head to the side.
“Jules?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry.”
She waved her right hand at me dismissively as she raised the cup to her mouth. My inclination was to take her lead and move on without bringing up anything unpleasant. We might laugh it off later if it came up but to actually say the things Bran and Jake urged me to would be hard.
Fuck. I had to try.
“Jules, look at me.”
She tilted her pointed chin in my direction, flinching when I reached out to gently remove her sunglasses. Her eyes were red and puffy. She looked terribly unhappy. I hated seeing her so sad. I ran my thumb over her cheekbone soothingly but pulled back gently when she leaned into my touch. I was afraid I was sending the wrong message again, and my friends were correct… I was the world’s worst communicator.
“I’m sorry about yesterday. I’m sorry I didn’t call you to let you know I’d be tied up at work. I should have been more clear.”
“Nate, it’s cool. It’s my fault too. I only have myself to blame for the blazing headache and upset stomach I’ll be dealing with all damn day. I’m a big girl. It’s all good.”
She was letting me off the hook. As much as I wanted to pour another cup of coffee and move the conversation to a neutral topic, I knew it was time to man up. I took a deep breath and tried again.
“Jules, I have to ask or maybe… look, you know we’re friends, right?” I ignored her hurt expression and pressed on. “What I mean is…. Julie, I want us to be friends. Only friends. I need to know we’re on the same page. We went through something extremely painful, I know, but can we please….” I was too unsure of my footing to continue.
Silence. Maybe I wasn’t clear enough.
I watched her carefully for clues. Her nostrils flared slightly, and I noted a tremble in her right hand when she pushed her curls away from her face.
“Okay,” she whispered. If I hadn’t been standing as close as I was, I would have missed it.
“Hey, I—”
“Stop. Please, Nate. This is embarrassing enough as it is. I get it. We’re friends. That’s all.”
Our eyes met and held. I nodded and tried a smile. It was weak at best. Maybe this was one of those things only time made better. But then again, I had no fucking clue. It had almost been a year.
“Okay. Good.”
“Look, I’m going to finish this coffee and get on the road. I know this is uncomfortable for both of us.” She held up her hand, and a ghost of a smile graced her lips when I sputtered to deny the obvious. “But I have to say one thin
g. Hear me out.”
“Go ahead.”
“Sometimes when I get sad about—I start thinking about you feeling the same way, and I worry about you. Maybe I’m not it, but aren’t you lonely? I’m a tough cookie. I’ll meet the right guy eventually. What about you?”
“You think I need to meet the right guy?” I joked.
“Maybe. Guy, girl. Who cares? Maybe if you opened up about what you lost too….”
I swallowed around the lump in my throat before turning to rinse out my coffee cup. My hands shook as the cool water cascaded over my fingers. I had to pull myself together immediately.
“Look, I’m sorry. We’re friends, and nothing’s changed, other than I’m about to embark on a rotten drive with a hangover from hell. You and me? We’re good. The rest… I think it would be wise for you to be honest with yourself too. Maybe you’ll finally be able to let someone in.”
She handed me her cup and turned away to pick up her purse and the overnight bag she’d left in my entry the day before.
“I’m off. Wish me luck with the traffic gods. And don’t be a stranger.” She flung her small body at me, embracing me tightly. I returned her hug and gently pushed her back.
“I won’t. Promise.”
“Good.” She stepped back, opened the door, and turned with her hand on her hip as she set her giant sunglasses on her dainty nose. “And by the way, fuck you. You said you’d let me sleep on your sofa so I didn’t get woken up to sounds of hot gay sex in progress. ‘Fuck me, baby. That’s it.’ Jake and Bran never stop! God, I hope the batteries in my vibrator are still working when I get home. Ciao for now!”
She waved a cheery good-bye as she sashayed down the hallway. I laughed at her antics, thankful to be back on even ground. This Julie I understood. The one with the wistful tone and pensive stares… not so much.
“‘Fuck me, baby. That’s it’?”
I turned to see Alex leaning against his doorjamb wearing snug-fitting dark workout clothes and a playful smirk. I chuckled at his obvious curiosity as I made my way toward him.