Plus, knowing Gavin, he was probably holding his own over there. Unlike her, he seemed to enjoy talking to people. He was sociable. He was friendly. He was open. He was warm. Come to think of it, he was all the things Blake wasn’t. Which might explain why she enjoyed his company. He compensated for traits Blake lacked; he was the yang to her yin.
The thought made her turn toward him. But as soon as she spun around, she caught a glimpse of the only face she should recognize besides Gavin’s.
David.
A few more wrinkles had settled in around his eyes, and his gray hair looked considerably whiter. But his smile held the same warmth it’d held ten years ago, and the sight made the memories of that time flood through her.
She was so caught up in staring, she’d forgotten that David might recognize her as well.
Until his eyes caught hers for a brief moment.
At first it was a flash—a quick glance in her direction before he returned his gaze to the man sitting across from him. But in an instant they were back on her, as if it had taken him a few moments to process the sight before him. The person he’d been speaking to was still talking, but she had a feeling David had stopped listening. He put a finger up to the man and said something before pushing his chair out and standing.
Though he’d obviously recognized her, and there was no escaping whatever conversation was coming, she turned toward the bar again, not wanting to watch him approach—as if facing the opposite direction would allow her some emotional distance she knew she wouldn’t get. She was aware of her shaking leg and the way she spun the cardboard coaster—a clear sign of her nervousness that she didn’t do anything to stop.
“Ms. Monroe?” David asked, putting a gentle arm on her back before probably realizing the contact might be too much for her and letting it drop. “Is that you?”
Blake took a deep breath and stood taller, squaring her shoulders before turning toward him. “In the flesh,” she answered with a quick smile that didn’t show her teeth.
David shook his head quickly like he’d just seen a ghost and was trying to decide if the image was real. “How are you? God, I’ve thought about you so many times since the hearing.”
“I’m good,” she assured him, and she meant it. Though she was far from what most people would consider normal, she wasn’t the mess David probably remembered.
“That’s so good to hear,” he said. And he gave her one of those smiles that seemed more out of relief than of genuine happiness. “Tell me what you’ve been up to. What’s it been? Ten, fifteen years?”
“Just over ten,” she answered. “And don’t be jealous, but I have two jobs and barely any money, so not much has changed for me in the employment department.”
David chuckled, but it faded quickly. “As long as you’re getting by and you’re healthy, that’s all that matters.”
Blake nodded in agreement, and the two were quiet for a moment until David spoke again. This time he seemed a little more hesitant. “What about a significant other? Boyfriend? Girlfriend? Do you have anyone you’re—”
“You know I don’t get attached.”
“I do. But I thought maybe ten years might have changed that,” he said, though she recognized the disappointment on his face.
“I’m hoping to bang my roommate soon if it makes you feel any better.” She pointed to where Gavin was seated. “He’s the hot blond talking to some of the people from your firm.”
David let out a loud laugh and shook his head in amusement. “I see you haven’t grown a filter in the last decade.”
This time Blake was the one laughing. “Some things never change, I guess.”
“Guess not,” David said. And then, “I should probably get back over to my table, but I have to ask… What are you doing here?”
Blake bit her lip if for no other reason than to hold back the smile she could feel trying to escape. She raised an eyebrow before asking, “Do you really want to know the answer to that?”
He seemed to think over her question for a moment before saying, “You know what? Knowing you, I don’t think I do.” Then he put a hand on her shoulder and rubbed it gently, cautiously. “It was good seeing you, Blake. If you ever need anything, give me a call, okay? I mean it.”
She nodded, but for some reason, she found it difficult to speak.
“And I hope you and the hot blond have a good time tonight. Enjoy yourselves.”
She watched him walk back to his table, her shoulders falling with relief that she hadn’t had to think much about her past and that David had been so accepting of her presence here. Taking a few deep breaths, she prepared herself to go back to the table and act like the universe hadn’t just fucked with her.
But as soon as she turned toward Gavin’s table, he was inches away from her face, a brow furrowed in what Blake identified as curiosity. “Whatcha doin’?” he asked. “You’ve been gone longer than I thought you’d be.”
“Miss me already?” She tried to keep her voice light, but she was sure her expression betrayed her. She couldn’t let Gavin find out how she knew David. She’d already had enough judgment for a lifetime.
“Yes,” he said. “But more importantly I thought maybe you missed your old colleagues. I’m surprised you don’t want to catch up with them more. It’s been a while since you’ve seen them.”
“Yeah, it has. So long actually that they barely remember me. Guess I don’t make as memorable an impression as I thought.” She held up two fingers to the bartender so he’d bring more shots. She’d offer one to Gavin, but if he didn’t want to drink it… Well, she’d never been one to let top-shelf liquor go to waste. David did say to have a good time.
Gavin studied her for a moment, not even responding when she offered him the shot the bartender had just set down. “Blake,” he said, “I know this probably isn’t any of my business, but you asked me to come here, so I kind of feel like it’s my business now.” He sighed, and Blake could sense the uncertainty in it—like he was unsure about whether continuing was a good idea, but he knew he had to. “Did you ever work for Belson’s firm?”
She hadn’t been sure what he was going to say, but his question didn’t surprise her. “Not exactly,” she admitted. It was more like Belson had done work for her. Though she hadn’t had the money to pay him, David had offered to help her for free after her caseworker—who’d been an old friend of David’s—had reached out to his firm.
Gavin set the shot back down and crossed his arms over his chest, looking more guarded than she’d ever seen him. But one thing he didn’t look was surprised. “Okay,” he said, drawing out the word. “So then I gotta ask,” he said. “How do you know David Belson?”
“I don’t,” she answered immediately, hoping her quick response would solidify its truth for him.
His head pulled back in confusion. “What do you mean you don’t know him?”
“What do you mean what do I mean? I don’t know him,” she repeated. “Exactly what I said. I’ve never even seen the guy before tonight.”
Gavin shook his head and rubbed his hands over his face. “Really? So you just like…came to some random guy’s party?”
“Yup.”
“I don’t get it. What exactly are we doing here if you don’t know this guy?”
Blake smiled as she picked up the shots and handed one to Gavin. “Eating and drinking for free,” she said. “My friend Emily works here, and she tells me when private parties over thirty people are coming in. That’s enough that if anyone here wonders who we are, they’ll probably just assume we know someone else.” This would’ve been the truth if she hadn’t happened to know the person retiring. “Usually Celeste comes with me, but she got stuck working, so you were her stand-in tonight.”
“Oh.” Gavin had been listening to her speak but hadn’t responded, and his blank expression revealed nothing about what he was thinking. He opened his mouth a few times but closed it each time without saying anything. Finally he seemed to find the words. “So you
crash retirement parties?”
“Basically. Yes,” she answered. “Or birthday parties, engagement parties, weddings, and baby showers. If she isn’t working, Emily tells whoever is to set two extra places. They always have extra food at these things, so why waste it?” she asked, not expecting an answer. “We even did a rehearsal dinner one time. That one was a mistake in hindsight. Someone asked me to give a speech…and the bride’s father hit on Celeste… It was a mess.”
“Huh. Well, I guess crashing parties is a better scenario than what I thought was going on.”
“What did you think was going on?” Blake wasn’t sure she wanted to know, but her curiosity got the better of her.
“I don’t know. Like…anything, I guess.” He pointed back to the table where the other partners were still seated and enjoying the entrées that had been brought out. “When you left, they said they were defense attorneys, and I thought maybe—”
“That I needed defending?” Blake raised an eyebrow in amusement.
The gesture seemed to relax Gavin, who took a deep breath and let his arms fall to his sides. “I don’t know. I mean I didn’t think you murdered anyone or anything.”
“Neither did the jury.”
Despite her serious delivery, Gavin barked out a laugh. “Stop,” he said. “My thought was totally valid. You brought me to this guy’s retirement party, and you said you worked with him. Then no one remembered you, but you talked to him for like five minutes, so I just thought—”
“That I killed someone,” Blake said, interrupting Gavin’s rambling. Though she had to admit she found it cute.
“No! I definitely didn’t think you killed anyone. Aggravated assault at most,” he joked, making Blake smile. “I honestly didn’t really think about what the crime might’ve been. I just thought maybe you needed legal representation for something and David Belson got you off.”
Blake tried to suppress her smile at his words. “I’m fairly confident when I say that David Belson could never get me off.”
“That’s not a visual I want to think about,” he said, making the two of them burst out laughing. When they finally calmed down, Gavin’s expression sobered a bit, and he leaned against the bar.
“So, wait, why was Belson talking to you then if you don’t know him?”
“He saw someone he didn’t recognize and came to see who I was and what I was doing here.”
“Oh shit. Really?”
“Yeah. But don’t worry. I used my charming personality to convince him that we should be allowed to stay. He told us to have a good time, so we’re totally good.” It was as close to the truth as she could provide at the moment.
Blake had been focused on her explanation, but when her eyes went back to Gavin’s, they seemed to twinkle with something she couldn’t quite identify. “What?” she asked, suddenly nervous about what Gavin’s reaction was going to be.
He shook his head. “Just you,” he said with a laugh that alleviated the tension she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding. “You’re something else, that’s all.”
She didn’t know what that “something else” was, but she had to agree.
Chapter Eleven
As the night went on, Gavin loosened up and even found himself having fun at a party that he wasn’t technically invited to around people he wouldn’t otherwise have ever associated with. Not that he did much interacting with anyone other than Blake. Once they returned to their table and had eaten one of the best meals Gavin could remember eating in years, they’d had a few more drinks and dessert before heading home.
By the time they got back to the apartment, they could barely make it up the steps without stumbling into one another. Or maybe that was only true for Gavin. Blake seemed more accustomed to the effects of the alcohol than he did. It had been a while since Gavin had been drunk, and the fuzziness inside his head as he carefully ascended the stairs felt unfamiliar. He leaned against the wall outside the apartment as Blake unlocked the door and pushed it open. Then he gestured for her to enter because he wasn’t going to let her open the door for him and walk through it before her.
“Crashing retirement parties is fun,” he said, collapsing onto the couch. “Oooh, we should try a family reunion next. Really test our skills,” he suggested as he thought about how they’d somehow been able to carry on a conversation with strangers.
Blake laughed, but it seemed half-hearted. “I don’t think I’m ready for that yet,” she said, taking a seat next to him.
Gavin looked at her—studied the way she rubbed her fingers over her thighs like she didn’t know what to do with her hands. He also noticed the way her eyes were focused on the coffee table in front of them. He wasn’t sure if she was just a little out of it from the alcohol or the long night, but he could swear that she was avoiding eye contact with him. “You okay?” he asked.
This time she looked at him. “Yeah, fine, why?” she said casually, though when he saw her eyes, he could tell she looked anything but fine. There was a blankness to them. Like she was thinking about something far away.
He shrugged, unsure of whether to press the issue. But she’d opened up the door by asking him why he thought that, so he decided he might as well answer. “You seem…distant or something all of a sudden. Did I say something? Or do something?”
“It’s stupid,” she said.
“It’s not stupid if it upset you. Tell me so at least I’ll know not to do it again.” It reminded him of when he’d seen Blake having the nightmare, and he wondered if the two were somehow connected.
Blake was silent, and Gavin did his best not to fill it. If she were going to share whatever this was with him, she’d have to be the one to decide to do it. Finally, she sighed. But he wasn’t sure what that meant exactly until she spoke a minute or so later. “The family reunion thing,” she began. “It’s probably the one type of party I have no experience with. I could probably fake my way through a bris easier than I could a reunion. At least those have an actual focus. I mean, I know the focus is on cutting off a part of someone’s penis, but still,” she said with an awkward laugh.
Gavin remained quiet but took note of the fact that she’d made a joke during what seemed like should be a serious conversation. “Can I ask why you hate family reunions?” It wasn’t that Gavin couldn’t relate to the dread that accompanied those types of get-togethers, but he had his own reasons for disliking them. He guessed Blake did as well.
“It’s not that I hate them so much as it is I’ve never been to one.”
“Never?” Gavin couldn’t hide his surprise.
She shook her head. “My family wasn’t the reunion type, I guess.”
His eyes locked on hers, and he couldn’t identify what he saw in them. There weren’t actual tears behind them—at least none that he could make out. But there was a heaviness to them, a weight that let him know Blake had more layers to her than he could probably ever peel back. But he had to try anyway. “What type were they?”
* * *
Blake’s head was spinning, and it wasn’t from the alcohol. She could handle way more than the six shots she’d had over the course of three hours. But what she couldn’t handle was how easy it felt to share things with Gavin that she typically kept to herself. When he’d mentioned the family reunion, it had struck a nerve for her, but she couldn’t explain exactly why. She’d accepted her family situation—or lack of one—when she was a kid. It wasn’t like coming to terms with her troubled childhood was anything new. Still, sitting here with Gavin, feeling close to someone for the first time in as long as she could remember, did things to her that she’d rather not think about.
“They were…” She struggled to find a way to describe her parents that was truthful, yet didn’t reveal every last detail about them. “They weren’t around a lot,” she finally settled on. She deliberately omitted that the reason was because they were neglectful deadbeats who’d rather think about where their next fix was coming from than whether their daughter had eate
n that day. “I’m not close with them.”
Gavin nodded like he understood, but she knew he didn’t. And in his defense, she hadn’t given him the opportunity to try. “I’m not too close to mine either,” he said.
“Oh yeah? Why?” She suddenly found herself hoping that Gavin’s parents were pieces of shit, too, so she could commiserate with him, but even she knew that was a horrible wish to make. She also knew that they’d wanted him to go to college, so the chance of them being complete lowlifes was slim.
“We don’t agree on…well, anything, now that I think about it.” He laughed, but Blake heard sadness in it. “What about you?”
“Same,” she said, because there was no way she could get into all of her shit right now. Or maybe ever. Her story was raw and messed up and so fucking crazy that it caused a type of pain most people hadn’t ever felt. At times, she thought she should’ve been embarrassed by her past. But she wasn’t. She never had been. Shame hadn’t ever been a factor in her decision to keep her history to herself. The opposite had been true actually. She felt a kind of pride that she’d been able to overcome such a troubling upbringing, and had somehow come out of the mess relatively free from any real damage.
Sure, she was guarded and cautious and private. But those were bandages more than they were scars—mechanisms put in place to protect her from any further pain and hopefully allow her to heal. At least that was what Shrink One, Two, and Three had told her. Even as a child, her life was like a Dr. Seuss book of psychiatric professionals. “My parents didn’t really have the time for me, let alone the time to get to know me,” she added, because not only was it the truth, she also found herself wanting Gavin to understand her a little better. And for the first time, she welcomed that connection with someone.
The realization was frightening.
She’d been looking down at the floor as she’d spoken, but something brought her eyes up to Gavin’s. “Well, that’s their loss,” he said as he cupped her cheek. “Because you’re worth knowing.”
Misadventures with My Roommate Page 8