by Carsen Taite
Mac reflected on her “date” with Charla and e-mails with the likes of the fisherwoman. She realized these would make funny stories one day, but she wasn’t ready to laugh about her exploits. She thought about sharing Jordan’s success as an anecdote of the wonders of electronic matchmaking, but loyalty prevented her from intruding on her best friend’s privacy. It wasn’t like Jordan practiced any discretion, and frankly, her one-night stands didn’t add up to success in Mac’s book. But she still wasn’t ready to discuss a close friend with this complete stranger.
A gentle voice prodded her out of her musings. “Hey, Laker Gal? Are you ready to call it a night?”
Mac snapped back to the conversation. “Oh, gosh, I’m sorry. I think I fell into a food coma. Usually, I try to eat like a lady on at least the first few dates and wait until much later in the relationship before I reveal myself as a foodaholic.”
“Would you like to give this another try?”
Mac paused. She felt cautious about rushing into a series of dates destined to climax with the combining of households, but the evening had been pleasant and Rebeca was beautiful.
She wasn’t proposing, and she never would if Mac always took this long to answer her questions. Fumbling her way out of rambling thoughts, she finally responded, “I’d love to.”
“Great. I’ll give you a call.”
Ten Tips for Online Dating. Let me guess, Mac said to the screen. Don’t eat all the food on earth on your first date. Save some in case she decides she wants to see you again. An hour after arriving home, she’d given up on the possibility that her indigestion would cure itself and had taken an antacid. Settling at the table with a tall glass of water, she noticed the new mail icon displayed on her laptop. Rebeca, no doubt, writing a Dear Huge Pig letter: At first I thought you were cute, but then you ate the entire city of Dallas in one sitting. When I said I wanted to see you again, I didn’t mean you had to make yourself big enough I could see you across town .
Actually, Rebeca seemed to have had a good time and Mac had too. Maybe she would actually call. Of course, these were modern times. Mac didn’t have to sit around waiting for women to call her. She signed onto the TLL site and glanced at the pop-up bar to see who else was signed on. She was a little disappointed and surprised to find Jordan wasn’t present. Apart of her wanted to share the details of her evening, but Aimee’s words of caution echoed and she reaffirmed her decision to keep this new venture under wraps for now.
Grinning, she started typing a “had a great time” message to Rebeca. She wrote and rewrote, struggling with what should be such a quick and easy task. The very act of sending a message seemed a little too eager, and she wasn’t eager. In fact, she was feeling inexplicably reticent. Unable to put her finger on what was holding her back, she took one last look to see if Jordan had signed on. Her absence decided the question.
She deleted the message to Rebeca, unsent, and went to her bedroom to read a few pages from Lost Loves before falling asleep.
The revelation lay like a land mine between them and both feared to tread the hazardous path back to the other. Shannon drew into herself, seeking healing for the wound inflicted on her vulnerable soul. Why, she cried silently, why did I speak my feelings? I barely know this woman.
This fact was made plain by the proclamation uttered from her lover’s lips. “I will never say I love you. I will never be in love with you or anyone, for that matter.”
The words were not couched in sentimental phrasing, but instead landed like rocks thudding on the soil, ruining the garden Shannon had prepared for the growth of their future together. She posed a simple question, hoping the answer would carry the rocks away. “Why?”
“I don’t believe in love. I do like you immensely and I thoroughly enjoy what we have together. Can’t that be enough?”
Why should it have to be? Shannon’s inner voice screamed. Her outer voice formed rational questions.
“I don’t understand. Where do you draw the line between ‘immense like’ and love? What are you trying to tell me?”
Dylan paused before delivering a careful response.
“I will never make a life commitment to you, never pledge you undying depth of feeling. I don’t want those things from you or anyone and I don’t expect or want them for myself.”
Shannon sat still unable and unwilling to respond for fear of what might follow. Frozen with disbelief, she held back tears. She had no desire to let this woman, who now seemed a stranger, witness her vulnerabilities any longer. Base instincts led her to reach for the nearest garment and cover her bare breasts. Suffering from the overexpense of feeling, she could not afford to be naked anymore.
A burning desire to know what Shannon would do next wasn’t enough to keep Mac’s eyes open. She fell asleep with the book still clutched in her hand.
“Aimee tells us you had a date with someone new last week,” Megan said.
“Actually, I saw her again yesterday,” Mac replied, looking toward the bike trail. There was still no sign of Jordan.
Everyone was relieved, since they would be able to discuss the details of her birthday party without having her walk up on them. “We had lunch at the Bronx.”
“Are you going to tell us all about it or are we going to have to hold you down and torture you until you talk?”
Mac reflected on her two dates with Rebeca. She supposed they’d had a good time getting to know each other, but something was off and she wasn’t sure if they were getting to know each other after all. Rebeca seemed evasive whenever Mac mentioned her job. Career usually provided fertile ground for conversation topics, so it was strange that she dodged career questions. And she always steered the conversation to Mac’s friends, expressing a strange interest in all they did. When Jordan’s name was mentioned, she acted like a reporter hot on the trail of a breaking story. Mac had spent the last week trying to reconcile the intelligent, together woman from their first date with the evasive, yet inquisitive woman who’d since emerged.
Realizing she hadn’t responded to Megan’s question and unsure about how to relay what were probably nothing more than initial dating jitters, Mac merely shrugged and answered, “What can I say? She’s attractive and fun to be around. We seem to be getting along fine.”
“Fine, huh? I’ve always considered the word ‘fine’ to be a nice substitute for ‘dull.’”
“What are we talking about?” A bag landed on the floor and Jordan pulled out a chair.
Mac glanced around the table, willing her friends into silence, wondering how much of their conversation Jordan had heard on her approach. Deciding she couldn’t have heard much, she replied, “Nothing important. Nice of you to join us.”
“Sorry I’m late. I had to check on a patient. What’s got you all looking so twitchy?” She cocked her head as everyone looked to the others to respond.
Megan spoke first. “Nothing much.” She poked Haley in the side as if to signal she should chime in with a more informative response. Haley gave her a startled look and said nothing.
Jordan obviously thought the whole exchange was amusing. “You’re trying to decide what to get me for my birthday.”
Mac scrambled for a response that wouldn’t give their plans away. “Yep, we are. Glad you’re here to give input. I was thinking a Learjet, but these gals think you wouldn’t get enough use out of it.”
She cast a desperate glance at Aimee, who promptly added, “I personally think we should get you a real house, a sprawling estate in Highland Park. I would reduce my commission, of course.”
Megan picked up the string and ran with it. “A new wing for your practice, complete with the spa amenities you’ve been talking about. You could name it after us, put a plaque on the wall.”
Jordan laughed and started to take her seat when her BlackBerry buzzed. “Those are all great suggestions. I have to take this call, but I’ll be right back with some suggestions of my own.”
As Jordan walked away from the table, Mac sighed. “How
lame are we at surprises? One idle question and we almost gave it all away.”
“We recovered nicely and I’m sure she doesn’t have a clue,” Megan said. “Now, let’s talk about something else in case we don’t see her coming back. Everything will go off without a hitch, I’m sure of it.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
When the shouting died down, Jordan was finally able to focus on the sea of faces all staring at her.
The usual suspects—Megan, Haley, Aimee—were present, along with the entire staff of the Lakeside. She spotted several members of her local LGBT networking group, all the members of her office staff, and a few doctor friends. Someone must have swiped her BlackBerry to make the guest list. This was quite a crowd. Sally Gannon stood in front of her saying something, but Jerry Lee Lewis was wailing the lyrics of “Thirty-nine and Holding” and Jordan was reduced to trying to lip-read.
She nodded when Sally mouthed, “Scotch?”
Sally made her way to the bar, and Jordan watched her engage in a similar exercise to accomplish her purpose. Sally always wore a basic “uniform” of khakis and polo or button-down shirts in muted colors and brown or black Doc Martens.
Her close-cropped hair remained in the same style and she wore no jewelry except a simple stainless steel watch and a plain gold band on her left ring finger. Jordan liked her and appreciated all she did to make Mac’s life easier.
Mac, Megan, Aimee, and Haley crowded around Jordan, exchanging hugs and exclamations.
“You should’ve seen your face,” Megan shouted above the music. “Who would’ve believed you would be easy to trick?”
“You were surprised, weren’t you?” Mac asked.
Jordan laughed. “I’m sure I looked stunned. I had no idea y’all were up to anything. You got me.” She slipped an arm around Mac’s waist, leaned in close, and whispered in her ear, “This was quite a surprise, Miss Lewis.”
“Don’t look at me. This was a group effort.” Gesturing to the rest of the group, she continued, “Everyone here gets equal blame, uh, I mean credit. Now, it’s time for the good doctor to make the rounds and greet her guests.” She pushed Jordan gently toward the crowd.
Jordan felt an overwhelming desire to stay right where she was, but Mac was right, she was obliged to circulate. She kissed her on the cheek, whispered, “Thanks for all of this,” and moved reluctantly away.
As she made her way around the restaurant, she was impressed with every detail of the party. Paper lanterns in a rainbow of colors brightened the room, and the tables were adorned with glass vases filled with colorful gerbera daisies.
Servers wandered the room urging guests to partake of a host of scrumptious appetizers, and a large table near the doors to the Dock was covered with more of the tempting treats. A deejay spun pure 1980s retro. Thinking there would be dancing later, Jordan paused to speak to various groups of her friends, colleagues, and acquaintances, sampling the goodies along the way. About forty-five minutes later, having made her way back to where she started, she spotted another familiar face and wondered how she could have missed seeing Grace in her earlier pass through the crowd. The tall brunette was standing with her back to the bar, lined with guests vying for beverages.
Jordan waded through the crowd to say hello.
Grace’s eyes lit up when she saw her, and she waved a greeting. At the same time, a man standing next to her turned slightly, placing a drink in her hand. The light from the bar illuminated his profile as he placed an arm across Grace’s shoulders and nuzzled against her neck. The smile on Grace’s face turned quickly into a grimace as Jordan stopped walking, immobilized. As Grace started toward her, she forced herself to move. Ignoring looks from the guests she passed, she dashed from the room, not stopping until she reached the back corridor of the restaurant.
Crouching, she bent over and tried to catch her breath.
Her head was spinning and the pit of her stomach ached. The sour taste in her mouth signaled nausea, and dizziness made her sink to the ground. Questions pelted her like hail, striking hard and often. Why was her father here? Why was he kissing Grace? Why was Grace looking like she enjoyed it? How long has this been going on? Who else knew?
Rocking in place, Jordan felt small and vulnerable and betrayed.
“Don’t you dare come in here.” Nick looked affronted.
“We have everything under control and you’ll mess up my system. Go be a fabulous hostess.”
“Fine, fine.” Mac backed off. “I thought you might welcome a little help, but obviously I was wrong. I’ll leave things to your capable hands.”
“I will let you know if I need help, which I won’t. Now go.” Nick waved a knife and Mac hastily beat a path to the door running into an out-of-breath hostess.
“Looking for me?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The young woman was obviously flustered and the words came tumbling out. “There’s a lady by the bar.
She wasn’t on the guest list, but she said you meant for her to be here tonight. I asked her to wait while I checked with you, but she insisted.”
Mac was puzzled, but decided if a party crasher was the only problem tonight, then things were going pretty smoothly.
“No worries. Why don’t you show the mystery guest to my office?”
Relieved, the young woman nodded and returned to the front of the restaurant while Mac went to her office to wait. At the sound of a knock, she called out, “Come on in.”
Looking up at the woman walking confidently toward her, she was thrown to see it was Rebeca Blixen. There wasn’t enough time to filter her initial reaction. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Hello, Mackenzie. I take it you’re not happy to see me.”
Mac didn’t know what she felt. Or rather, wasn’t sure which of the various feelings she was experiencing was going to take precedence. Rebeca looked hot and she was dressed to the nines. Despite the delicious sight of the woman standing in front of her, Mac felt annoyance creep in. She had purposely not invited a date tonight. She and Jordan had been a little out of sorts lately and she wanted to recapture some of their former camaraderie with a girls’ night out, no dates for either of them. Plus, she wanted the party to go off without a hitch, which meant expending her energy on hostess duties instead of dating niceties.
“Unhappy isn’t the word.”
“Mad?”
“I’m not mad,” Mac said. “I’m confused about why you would show up here when I told you I had plans tonight.”
“Maybe I wanted to grab a bite to eat.” Rebeca sidled over to stand behind Mac’s chair. Lightly kneading Mac’s shoulders, she said softly. “I have quite an appetite.”
“Come on, now. It’s pretty obvious we have a private party going on. In fact, there’s a guest list at the door.”
“The waitress was very understanding when I told her you and I are dating.”
“You did what?” Mac didn’t try to hide her consternation at Rebeca’s gall.
Rebeca swiveled Mac’s chair so they were face-to-face and smiled a sultry smile. “Ease up. You’re acting like I breached a government-secured facility.”
Jordan shook herself off and squared her shoulders, preparing to reenter the party when she heard voices down the hall. One of the voices was definitely Mac’s and she sounded pissed. The other voice was fairly soft and hard to make out, but it sounded familiar. She could hear more as she walked softly toward Mac’s office. Pausing outside the door, she found herself eavesdropping as she decided what to do.
“Well, I’m here now.” This time the voice was un-mistakable. Jordan nudged the door open a few inches, just in time to see Rebeca Blixen pout seductively and bend low over Mac. “It’s a party. Will one more guest send it into a tailspin?”
“That’s not the point.” Mac sounded annoyed. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Infuriated, Jordan swung the door wide. “I think what Mac’s trying to say is that she didn’t want me to know she’s dating you.”
Mac jump
ed and twisted to face her. “Jordan, what are you doing back here?”
“Sorry, Mac.” Jordan didn’t bother to temper her sarcasm.
“I wasn’t spying. I was looking for a friend, but I think I need to look elsewhere.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mac stood and quickly moved past Rebeca. “Hey, birthday girl, let’s head back up front.”
Jordan shrugged her off, jerking her head in Rebeca’s direction. “What about your date?”
“Oh, she’s leaving. Jordan, this is—”
“Malibu,” Jordan interjected, “nice to see you again.”
Mac looked back and forth between each of the women standing in the room. “What’s going on?” She stared at Jordan.
Jordan stared squarely back, her hazel eyes fire-flecked with anger. “I’ve already met your new girlfriend. Don’t try to tell me you didn’t know.”
Mac turned to the other woman. “Rebeca?”
“Why, yes, dear, Dr. Wagner and I are already acquainted.”
Mac didn’t miss the innuendo dripping from Rebeca’s response, and the craving in her eyes told her innuendo had been something more concrete on at least one occasion.
Realization dawned and she spat her response. “Don’t ‘dear’ me. I think it’s time for you to leave. Past time, in fact.”
Rebeca turned to Jordan. “Looks like I’ve worn out my welcome with your friend. Are you leaving? Can I give you a lift?”
“Oh, I’m leaving, all right, but not with you. Get out of my sight.”
With a shrug, Rebeca strode over to Mac, pulled her close, and kissed her full on the mouth. She quickly regained her balance as Mac pushed her roughly away. With a wink at Jordan, she left the room.
“What the hell is going on here?” Mac demanded.
Jordan turned in surprise. “I should be asking you.”
Pointing to the departing Rebeca, she asked, “She’s your new girlfriend? No wonder you didn’t want to tell me.”