A Kind of Romance (23 page)

He didn’t say a word, but I figured his sappy smile was promising. A second later, he launched himself into my arms and held on tight. I breathed in the sweet scent of his shampoo and cologne before gently pushing him away. It was dark in the gallery, but I could see the joy in his face clearly. As we stood staring at each other wearing matching goofy grins, I felt an intense desire to be inside his head. I wanted to know every detail about him. What made him happy, sad, angry, or thoughtful. Somehow I knew he wondered the same things about me. It felt very boyfriend-like, but different than it had for me in the past. This time it felt like a beginning.

“GUESS WHO
I just ran into at the gym?”

I swiveled in my office chair to stare unseeing at the city view behind me. I’d spent my entire morning on a conference call and had thirty minutes ’til my lunch appointment to meet with a prominent new client with a substantial portfolio. The guy had assets strewn across three continents and a staff of people managing his finances. I was under the impression he didn’t really understand what he had. He only knew it was a lot.

“I’m busy, Carter. Let’s pop some popcorn later and do each other’s hair. Then you can tell me—”

“Fuck off, asshole.” His hearty laugh made me chuckle too.

Carter’s self-deprecating brand of “realness” was what I needed on a day like this one when stress threatened my sanity. He was like Benny minus the sass and attitude, I thought with a smile. I had a brief vision of my lover lying naked in my bed that morning with the covers low on his hips. I’d stared at him for a long moment, thinking he looked so damn perfect. Like he belonged there. The thought hadn’t freaked me out. We spent every bit of our spare time together, and unbelievably, it wasn’t all spent in bed. The heady sexual attraction was easier to explain than the light-headed, woozy feeling I experienced when he walked into a room. Hell, even just hearing his voice on the phone made my pulse race. It was only a matter of time before my friends and coworkers noticed.

Gina didn’t ask what
I
was doing over a weekend now. It was always “Benny and you.” I didn’t correct her or glibly point out that we weren’t actually a couple. What difference did it make? We
were
together doing “boyfriend” things, like hanging out at the local coffee shop or going to the movies or the theater. We hung out with each other’s friends and even visited family together. For all intents and purposes, we were in a relationship. We simply chose not to label it.

“Are you there?”

I sat up quickly and refocused. “Yeah. Sorry, what’d you say?”

“Where did I lose you?”

“Somewhere around hello.”

“You getting worse in your old age, Zeke. You can’t hide the fact you’re an asshole quite as well as you used to.”

I snorted and swiveled around to check my incoming e-mail on my computer. “And the best part is I don’t even care. So who did you see at the gym?”

“I’ll tell you at lunch. I’m just calling to make sure you didn’t forget about me.”

I stopped typing and sat back. “I forgot. I have lunch with a new client. Sorry.”

“You’ll have to guess who now.”

“I give up. Who?”

“Taylor.”

“Ahh. And what did he have to say?”

“Nothing much… except he told me you’ve been talking.” His intonation clearly said he wasn’t pleased.

“Relax, Cart. I’ve talked to him via cellular device a couple times. Nothing’s going on and—”

“Does Benny know?”

“About what? There’s nothing to—”

“Don’t fuck up a good thing, Zeke.”

My brow furrowed in indignation. “Hang on! I’m not fucking anything up.”

“I hope not. What did Taylor want from you?”

“Nothing really. You know the rule about keeping your friends close and your enemies closer. He’s up to something and… I’m curious. That’s all. Don’t worry. We aren’t getting back together. My dad would disown me, and though I sometimes think that could be a blessing in disguise, I can assure you it won’t be over Taylor.”

“I think it’s weird. The guy is a snake. Why would he even mention that he’s been talking to you to me? Unless he wanted to plant a seed. I wonder if he thought
I’d
be jealous,” he scoffed.

“Are you?” I teased.

“Dream on, sunshine. But I still don’t trust him. He fucked you over. End of story. What happened to his married lover?”

“According to Gina and the office grapevine, his boyfriend’s wife is onto him. Maybe things got complicated in paradise, and Taylor’s drawing me in to make his man jealous. He claims they’ve been over for months. Frankly, I don’t know, and I don’t care.”

“Then why bother?”

“Because at some point, it may be useful.”

“You’re hopeless. What can you possibly have to talk about with that idiot?”

“Baseball? It’s not important.”

“Zeke, Benny is—”

“Hey, Benny and I are friends. This is separate.”

“Why do you do that?” Carter sighed.

“Do what?”

“That thing where you try to convince yourself and anyone who will listen that you’re a lone wolf. It’s okay to admit you’re happy and that maybe you’ve actually met someone special. You give yourself away every time you look at him, anyway.”

“How do I look at him, smartass?”

“Like you don’t want to look away.”

CARTER’S SIMPLE
observation was on replay in my head throughout my lunch meeting and most of my afternoon. He was right. I was becoming obsessed. I had plans to see Benny that weekend, but I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I had a feeling something might be wrong with me. I thought about him constantly, and just when I was beginning to think I was in this alone, he’d call or text and everything felt… kind of perfect. This wasn’t what I’d planned. Friendship and sex was supposed to be the extent of Benny and me. Mooning over him like a lovesick idiot… not so much.

I moved around my desk later that afternoon as I listened to his story about Spiral’s new album cover. He sounded excited. I had a conference call in ten minutes, but I wasn’t ready to say good-bye.

“If they go with the shot featuring the band, then my name goes on the cover as stylist. That would be huge! Can you imagine how incredible that would be for my portfolio?”

“Who makes the final choice?” I asked, glancing at my watch.

“Supposedly the label, but if I know Rand, it will be him. He’s a control freak. There’s no way he’ll let them make a decision he isn’t one hundred percent behind. And I know that photo is his favorite.”

“Then congratulations.” I beamed, turning to peer out the window at my Jersey skyline view on another gorgeous day.

“Thank you, but we’ll have to see what happens. No point in getting excited only to be disappointed.”

“Probably wise. Hey, I have to get going, but… are you free for dinner tonight? I’m taking a side trip by way of Brooklyn within the hour, but I won’t be late and— Maybe we should celebrate or something.” I winced as soon as the words left my mouth. Desperate much?

Benny chuckled. “That sounds great. But I’m taking you out to dinner.”

“Oh?”

“Yep! Dinner at Johnny’s. I have an inside contact or two who can guarantee the best table in the house. And the special tonight is chicken parmigiana. It’s
magnifico
! What do you say?”

“I say
magnifico
.” I repeated in a very American accent to make him laugh. “Then we’ll go back to my place and play pool.”

“Before or after sex?” he asked nonchalantly.

“After, of course.”

“Of course. See you later, Prince Charming.”

I knew I had a dopey smile on my face when I ended the call. Whatever. It couldn’t be helped at this point. I stood to grab a bottle of water before signing on to my conference call and noticed I’d missed a message.

Taylor.

Most likely it was one of his occasional hello calls. I hadn’t seen him in weeks, but we’d talked. And as I’d tried to assure Carter, our conversations were… harmless. Boring even. He talked about work, new restaurants he’d tried, or a show he’d been to. I was curious about his motivations, but I didn’t feel a fiery mistrust the way I had earlier in the summer. Now, it was background noise. A text message popped up a moment later.

Hi Zeke. Sorry I missed your call. Are you free for a drink later?

Curiosity won. I pushed Call, thinking this was a good opportunity to see what my ex wanted. It went straight to voice mail. As I listened to Taylor’s deep masculine tone requesting the caller to leave a message, a strong sense of déjà vu came over me. And with it, a wave of frustration. It was the one emotion that always seemed at the forefront of my relationship with him. He wasn’t around when I needed him, and he had a peculiar talent for holding people at arm’s length. Even me. Perhaps I’d been as attracted to the challenge he presented as I had been to his hot body. A buzzing sound was followed by silence. I fixated on the headline scroll running at the bottom of the large screen in front of me. The constant flicker of information with graphs, charts, and analysis was strangely cathartic, but I was aware of the alluring quiet on the line seducing me with a promise of… what? A game? There was nothing between Taylor and me but the wreckage of old frustration. There was no relationship or even friendship to salvage. There was only pride.

I disconnected the call. What the fuck was I doing? A sense of loss and longing washed over me. It had nothing to do with Taylor, though. It was a familiar pull toward a hollow darkness I knew all too well. I hadn’t felt it in a while. Probably because of Benny. I wished the day was over already. I wanted nothing more than to sit in an overcrowded Italian restaurant eating fresh bread while sipping Chianti and listening to Dean Martin croon “That’s Amore.” I closed my eyes for a moment, wishing I had someone to point me in the right direction. Someone I trusted who didn’t need a backstory to know I was in over my head and could use a little guidance. Fierce longing hit me like a bolt of lightning. I missed my mom.

THIRTY MINUTES
later I was in Brooklyn, breathing in the dreaded antiseptic smell of a health-care facility. I cut my conference call short before waving a quick hello to the nurse on duty. Unlike my father’s brief visit at Mount Sinai in the spring, I knew this place well. The nurses greeted me by name and offered kind platitudes as they directed me toward the visitors’ lounge. There was no need for an escort. I could get there in my sleep now. Left, right, short left.

I gazed at the framed landscape print above the sofa in the waiting room. It was one of those innocuous ones featuring a stream, trees, and fluffy clouds in an impossibly blue sky. It could be anywhere or nowhere. You weren’t supposed to have a strong opinion about it either way. I stuffed my hands in my jeans and turned at the sound of shuffling feet behind me.

“Good morning, Zeke. It’s so nice to see you today. A lovely surprise. I was tellin’ Miri how lucky she is to have such handsome gentleman callers. You just missed George.”

I smiled at Susan, one of the daytime nurses. Then I turned to my mother, noting that her short, gray, curly hair looked tidy and her pink floral dress looked pretty against her pale skin. These visits were becoming more and more predictable. Usually, I was a stranger she was meeting for the first time. Not too long ago I could gauge a visit by the initial few moments of contact. Everything was in her eyes. I foolishly still hoped for a spark of recognition. Something to let me know she knew me. If only for a little while.

“Hi, Miri,” I said in a soft voice. “Do you feel like a walk in the garden?”

She grinned widely and reached out to squeeze my hand. “I’d love to.”

I took her arm and nodded briefly to Susan before leading my mother through the sliding glass door into the facility’s small garden. The wide, circular path was surrounded by lush foliage. There were benches under tall, sturdy trees along the perimeter and a pretty rose garden in the middle. On touch-and-go days when she was easily agitated, I headed directly for the roses. Today I stayed on the path. I patted her arm as we meandered, speaking in a low, soothing voice about the weather, the flowers, and perfect temperature. Getting too personal too soon always backfired. She had to work to stay in the moment now. It was better to let things flow naturally. On a good day, she’d be engaging and even funny. As long as I didn’t push, I’d get a glimmer of the woman I knew. It might not last, but it was worth taking a chance.

She seemed comfortable with me today. Sometimes she’d get caught up with our size difference and mumble over and over about how tall I was. Sure, I had an easy eight inches on her, but it was hardly a topic we could engage in for more than a minute or two. And if she spun on anything for long, it invariably made her anxious. Today, I felt anxious enough myself. I couldn’t say why. I selfishly needed to be close to the part of her that exuded motherly benevolence. My thoughts were restless, and I needed an anchor. Or the memory of one.

“There aren’t as many roses on the vine now,” she commented wistfully. “Oh! This one is nice. I love the pink ones. Dark pink especially. George always brought pink roses. He was a darling man.”

“George
is
a good guy,” I agreed, leading her to a nearby bench. Her tone indicated she was speaking in past tense about a man who’d passed away, rather than the one who came to see her every day. The man she’d loved most of her life. “Susan said he came by this morning. Did he bring roses?”

She ignored the question and cocked her head thoughtfully. “You remind me of him.”

“George? How so?” My raised eyebrow and comical expression made her laugh. Dad and I looked nothing alike.

“I don’t know. You’re very handsome,” she added with a smile. “George is too. And he’s kind. But he has a stubborn side. I bet you’re stubborn. Are you?”

I tried to keep the disappointment from my voice when I answered, “Yes. George thinks so too.”

She waved her hand, indicating she didn’t want to linger on the topic. No doubt it jarred a fragment of memory she couldn’t place. The name George was significant, but she didn’t know why. She was lucid enough today to avoid triggers. It was frustrating in a way because that trigger was where our history was stored. Without it, we were strangers looking for common ground.