by Harper Bliss
“Despite pouring all that champagne, she sold plenty of cappuccinos.” Annie glanced at the coffee shop counter. The queue there had gotten longer. People were apparently keen on a last shot of caffeine before heading home. Lou was helping her prepare the coffees. Seeing the two of them working together reminded Annie of when she’d just opened the book shop and she and Jane were giddy with delight every time a box of books arrived they could put on display. It had been such an exciting time full of promise.
Annie was brusquely pulled from her memories because Kristin was headed in their direction.
“Thank you very much for contributing to my bottom line,” Kristin said, and briefly tapped Jane on the shoulder. “I hope your next book is coming out soon, so we can do this again.”
Annie felt Jane stiffen next to her. Did she know? Of course she didn’t. Annie shook off the thought, and, instead of looking Kristin in the eye, she stared past her.
“It shouldn’t be too long,” Jane said. “Meanwhile, we can get Caitlin James in here.”
“I have an even better idea,” Kristin said.
Now Annie was forced to look at her. And she didn’t want to be rude to the woman who had saved her shop from the greedy grips of Pages. When she looked at Kristin talking to Jane like that, Annie felt nothing but remorse for even the flimsiest, most innocent thought she had entertained about Kristin.
“Caitlin and Josephine’s book will be out in a few months. We could have the launch party here. Have Josephine sing a few tunes. That should fill the place right up.”
“That’s a great idea,” Jane said.
They both looked at Annie. It was her turn to say something. She nodded. “Wonderful,” she said.
“Meanwhile, I’m sure Caitlin won’t mind reading from one of her previous books. Sheryl wasn’t lying when she said Caitlin loves that kind of attention.”
“I could probably sell one percent more books if I were that kind of person as well,” Jane said. “But I’m not, so I’ll stick to a book signing once in a while.”
“We’re all different,” Kristin said and gave Jane one of her more brazen smiles.
Annie could kick herself for feeling jealous of her own wife because that smile was solely aimed at her. She really needed to get a grip soon. Hadn’t Beth’s unwelcome visit been enough of a reminder?
“Come here.” Annie tugged Jane toward her. She wanted to kiss her, really kiss her, and reacquaint herself with her wife and how she felt when she melted in her arms. And further forget about Kristin. Although Annie had no choice but to ask herself whether she was feeling so frisky because—despite Beth turning up—she and Jane had had such a great night, or because she’d spent a few hours in Kristin’s company. This forgetting-about-Kristin business was going to be harder than she thought.
Jane stepped into her embrace and put her head against Annie’s shoulder.
Annie kissed her on the top of her head and applied some pressure with her arms, hoping Jane would intuit where she was going with this. Annie could do with letting off some steam, no matter the reason for her late-night friskiness.
Jane’s head just kept lying there, not a muscle in her body moving—or implying she was catching Annie’s drift.
Annie pecked her on the first patch of bare skin she found near Jane’s temple. She accompanied her kiss with a little groan that could not be misinterpreted—not unless Jane deliberately wanted to do so.
“I’m sorry, babe,” Jane said. “I’m knackered. And I have to write tomorrow morning.”
Annie ran a hand through Jane’s hair again. Maybe she just needed a little more persuasion. She also wondered when Jane was going to let her read the next chapter in her work in progress. Annie hadn’t seen anything new from her in about a week. She knew better than to push Jane on the matter, because sometimes it just took a little longer and Jane would come to her with a new chapter when she was good and ready. But Annie felt like pushing tonight. Maybe because Jane was brushing her off. Or because seeing Beth had riled her up more than she believed. Or because it was as though Annie could still feel that hug Kristin had given her before she’d left the book shop earlier.
“Will I get a new chapter to read tomorrow then?”
“I don’t know.” Jane pushed herself away from Annie. “I’ll do my best.” There was such defeat in her voice, Annie instantly regretted having asked the question.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” She pulled Jane close again.
“It’s been a bit of a crazy night. That’s all.” Jane didn’t sink into her embrace the way she had before. “Let’s go to sleep, please.”
“Sure.” Annie let go, knowing she’d lie awake for a long time.
Chapter Ten
The next Thursday, Annie went swimming leaving Jane to mind the shop for a few hours. Jane couldn’t help but flinch every time someone walked in, in case Beth decided to make an appearance again.
Annie hadn’t said anything more about it, for which Jane was glad. Perhaps they had truly put it behind them. Enough time had passed. But after the initial shame of having to relive the attraction she had felt toward Beth back then and its consequences—the pain she’d caused her wife and the stress she’d put their relationship under—another sentiment had burrowed its way forward.
During the seven years since she’d kissed Beth and all hell had broken loose, she had missed her. Because Beth hadn’t just been a woman who had crossed her path one day to whom Jane had been undeniably attracted. Beth had been her friend for two years prior, and Jane wasn’t the kind to make friends easily. Beth’s absence had left a hole in her life. A hole she’d been dreading to fill, because what if it happened again? What if she got so close to another woman that the same kind of attraction took hold of her all over again?
“Jane,” Mia shouted from the other end of the shop. “It’s three o’clock.” She tapped her watch, then pointed at the table. “Look what I have.”
Jane saw a steaming mug of cappuccino on the table. She broke into a smile. She could do with a coffee and a way to take her mind off Beth. A chat with Mia sounded like a good means to that end. After last week’s book signing, Jane had come to appreciate Mia even more.
Jane walked over and sat, making sure she faced the till in case someone came in and wanted to buy a book. Earlier that week, Annie had changed the window display and put some Caitlin James books there, as well as a poster announcing that her upcoming book, co-written with Josephine Greenwood, could be pre-ordered inside. If the past hour was any indication, Caitlin and Josephine’s book should be a big hit. Jane couldn’t wait to get her hands on it either.
She and Mia made small talk for a bit. For some reason, maybe because of her growing appreciation for Mia, chatting about this and that didn’t trigger Jane’s visceral dislike of small talk. Perhaps it was Mia’s easy way that compensated for Jane’s more stilted conversation.
“You keep looking at the door,” Mia said, after a while. “Are you expecting anyone in particular this afternoon?”
“No. More like hoping a particular person won’t turn up again.”
Mia arched up her eyebrows. “Anyone I know?”
“No.” Jane looked into Mia’s eyes. They were so inviting and Jane had let her guard down around Mia already. More than anything, she wanted to say the words out loud to someone else—and it couldn’t be Annie, because that would mean racking up the past. Journaling was all well and good, but it could never be a substitute for a live conversation. Apart from Annie, Mia was probably the easiest person to talk to in Jane’s life at the moment. Plus, she was there. She was sitting right across from her.
“Someone from my past turned up at the book signing. It has shaken me a little.”
“Ah,” Mia said. “An ex?”
“Not really. I mean, sort of.” Jane drank from her coffee. If she was going to talk about Beth, she was going to talk about her properly. “We were friends. We met when she interviewed me about ten years ago. I was still traditionally publ
ished then. We just hit it off, became friends… very good friends. She beta-read all my books. I even discussed plots with her and we came up with ideas together. I just loved being around her. She made me laugh and, even more amazingly, she made me relax. You may have noticed, but I have a hard time relaxing.” Jane threw in a small smile.
Mia just nodded. She was a great listener.
“Beth was just a really great friend. Someone I could confide in. The works, really. But then… I don’t even know how it happened. It somehow turned into more. This was after two years of friendship, so hardly a lightning strike of desire. We started falling in love. But I was already in a relationship, of course. Nothing happened. Well. We kissed. Once. One single time. But emotionally, I was extremely unfaithful. I had to stop seeing her in order to save my relationship with Annie. I had to give up my best friend, which I did. When she turned up the other night, I hadn’t seen her for years. It was more painful than I expected it to be.”
“I can well imagine,” Mia said.
“Not just for me. But for Annie as well. I felt so bad for her. I make it sound as though stopping all contact with Beth saved Annie and me, but it was much more complicated than that. I hurt Annie. Profoundly. To see the partner you love and whom you’ve supported through thick and thin for a decade, fall for someone else… That’s not something you recover from in a couple of days. But we got past it in the end.”
“You chose Annie,” Mia said. “That must count for something.”
Jane shook her head. “It doesn’t count for anything. I shouldn’t have had to choose her. It should have been her all along. I got carried away.”
“Oh come on, Jane. You must think about love and relationships all the time with the kind of books you write. You must know it’s hardly ever a fairytale and it actually is choosing each other over and over again.”
Jane gave a half-hearted chuckle. “I’ll tell you what, though. I’ve gotten more sympathy for my heroines. It was bloody hard to live through one of the dramas I put them through in every book. Real life is much harder than fiction.”
“But look at you and Annie now. Lou and I admire the two of you so much. We want to be you when we grow up.” Apart from a tiny grin on her lips, Mia looked dead serious.
“I’m so glad Lou has found you.” Jane was ready to let the spotlight of their conversation shift to Mia.
“She wasn’t very happy when she first ran into me again, I can tell you that. But it just goes to show that life can be really tricky, or funny, or just a bit of a bitch, depending on how you want to define it.”
“Really? I thought the two of you had somewhat of a whirlwind romance?” Jane tried to remember what Annie had said about Lou and Mia running into each other in the shop one day. Like the second cold war had broken out or something. Things seemed to have warmed up pretty quickly after that. She was curious now.
Mia shook her head. “We have a past, but I’d rather not talk about it. We’ve put it behind us. Which is exactly what you have done.” Mia put her hand on Jane’s arm. “There’s only one guarantee in life: we all make mistakes. That’s all there is, really.”
“You make it sound so grim.” Jane looked Mia in the eye. “And you’re not married to Annie McLean, who doesn’t seem to put a foot wrong and who is always composed and always knows what to say and seems to have a handle on happily skating through life, for which I admire her greatly. But once in a while, it does make me feel like a giant loser in comparison.”
“You’re being way, way, way too harsh on yourself. You’re Jane Quinn, for crying out loud. That must be good for something.”
“It is most days,” Jane lied. She didn’t want to lie to Mia. It just came out. Or maybe it wasn’t that much of a lie. It was enough most days to do what she loved best in the world, except on those days when the words stalled in her brain and would be damned if they made it past her fingertips and the keyboard onto that big blank screen flickering in front of her. That made her feel most worthless of all. Because what is a writer who doesn’t write? Maybe she should ask Mia that next. She seemed to have her head screwed on right and be in possession of a good amount of common sense—of which, Jane knew, she sometimes didn’t have enough.
The door of the shop opened and they both looked up. Jane flinched a little less than before she’d had the cappuccino—and before she’d started talking to Mia.
Chapter Eleven
“Beth Walsh turned up at Jane’s book signing last week,” Annie said to Rita.
“Did she now.” They’d just finished their weekly Tuesday evening stint at the Sydney Charity Kitchen and were standing outside, waving goodbye to the last people leaving.
Annie was of two minds about asking Rita if she wanted to go for a drink. It wasn’t really their habit, but Annie didn’t feel like going straight home. Not because of the memories of Beth Walsh. It might have stung to have seen her and be reminded of the worst year of her and Jane’s history together, but it was her own imagination she feared the most. Lying awake at night, Jane obliviously sleeping beside her, while Annie came up with ways not to think of Kristin—which was the worst way to try and stop thinking about anything, let alone a woman you had a silly crush on.
Annie had the benefit of experience on her side. She knew first-hand what having feelings for someone other than your wife could do. She figured if she talked to Rita about Beth Walsh, she could process some of her own feelings about Kristin.
“Do you have time for a drink?” Annie shot her old friend a hopeful smile.
“Sure.” Rita acquiesced more easily than Annie had expected. Maybe she’d been waiting for Annie to ask.
They headed for a pub around the corner and found a spot outside. While Annie got the drinks, she wondered what to say to Rita. The only reason Rita knew about Beth was because Annie had been so affected by it at the time, she hadn’t been able to keep it from someone who’d known her for so long.
Annie didn’t go about broadcasting how her partner had fallen in love with someone else. And she and Rita were not the kind of friends who shared the most intimate details of their private lives. They talked about Lou’s well-being and the book shop and their respective significant others in broad terms only. They were not best pals the way Jane and Beth had been.
“What did Beth have to say for herself?” Rita asked as soon as Annie deposited a glass of wine in front of her.
“I didn’t speak to her. She was gone before I was able to. Not that I would have said a whole lot. It’s in the past.”
“You sound upset. That’s why we’re sitting here, isn’t it? Because you want to talk about it?”
Annie nodded. “I had thought that by now Jane and I would perhaps be able to share a little joke about the whole thing. As a sign that it was truly behind us. But maybe it’s not. Maybe some things are too hard to get over.”
“For you or for Jane?”
Rita’s questions were on point this evening. If she kept them coming, Annie wasn’t sure she would be able to keep from opening up about Kristin.
“I’m over it. I’ve had to drag myself past it so I could learn to trust Jane again. I read about a dozen books about relationships and they all told me the exact same thing: these things happen. It’s completely normal for people in long-term relationships to develop feelings for someone else. Because we are humans, not machines who follow a well-devised trajectory. And one person can’t possibly be everything for another. That’s just a myth and so on and so on. I do believe that’s all true, but it’s still a shock when you discover that the woman you love has been having very deep feelings for someone else.” Annie worried the drink coaster with her fingers, tearing it into little strips. “In a way, I wished she’d just slept with someone else, you know? Someone she was simply irresistibly attracted to and then forgot about. But this was worse. She was in love with her. I knew it for the longest time, I just didn’t want to see. They were always hanging out together and it was always Beth this and Beth that. And y
ou know Jane. She doesn’t socialize easily. It was like she was a different person around Beth. That’s what hurt me the most. The intimacy between them. It didn’t matter one bit that it wasn’t physical. In fact, it was only when things did get physical—and only then—that Jane realized she had to draw a line because otherwise she would lose me.” Annie paused for a much needed sip of wine. She looked at Rita, wondering if she had something to say—Rita usually had something to say about everything.
“Doesn’t sound to me as though you’re fully over it. Even though seven years seems a long time to hold on to a grudge like that. Especially one against your wife.” Rita scanned her face. “I was at your wedding, Annie. You married Jane after this happened. That must mean something.”
“It means a lot. It meant a lot when she asked. In a way, the whole thing made us stronger. I’m convinced of that.”
“So what’s the problem?” Rita bored her eyes into Annie’s again.
“Just a bit of a bad week, I guess.” Annie shrugged, unsure whether she was fooling her friend. “I’m not sure Jane is actually writing anything these days. She’s not a secretive author who keeps her manuscript close to her chest until it’s finished. She’s usually so fast, I’m always having to catch up with what she’s written.”
“So you think something is going on with Jane? Something to do with Beth?”
Annie should stop spinning tales. She hadn’t told any lies, but she wasn’t exactly being truthful either. Once she told someone, however, it would be out there. The words would be spoken out loud. Maybe that was what she needed. To hear how foolish the words would sound when they came out of her mouth.
“It’s not Jane. It’s me,” Annie said. “There’s this woman.”
“Ah.” Rita reached for her glass. “I knew there was something you weren’t telling me.”
“I feel so stupid. I can’t stop thinking about her. Not that I’m pursuing anything. I wouldn’t dream of it.” Perhaps that was a little bit of a lie. “But I see her a lot and it’s been doing my head in.”