60
I didn’t want to wake up, but I did.
I didn’t want to remember the feel of Finger’s warm hands rubbing fragrant oils into my naked body under that harsh, possessive gaze of his that was like taking bullets to the chest, but I did.
I didn’t want to feel fiercely aroused by that erotic memory, but I did.
I didn’t want to use my vibrator pretending it was him pulsing inside me, but I did.
I didn’t want to cry after coming, but I did.
I stayed in bed the whole day, and into the night.
The next morning I woke up at four thirty.
Time to deal.
I’ve always dealt, why should this be any different?
But it was different. The prospect of me and Finger together again loomed over me like the shadow of a two hundred story skyscraper. Stunning, breathtaking.
Ominous.
And he’d been right. I did like telling the men in my bed what to do. That had become my thing, my necessary thing after I’d left Finger and Chicago behind me. I liked the control. It was stabilizing, exciting. I kept my head above water that way. I’d never felt that need with Finger. With him sex had always been a kind of wild freedom, a raw intimacy, an intense passion. Giving in to him just that little bit the other night, submitting to his fiery attention, his extraordinary care was—
I ripped the sheets off my bed and shoved them in the washing machine, took a shower, downed a greens drink, got dressed, and went to my store. I put everything out of my head and only concentrated on putting the finishing touches on the surprise I’d been making for Tania. I’d planned on giving it to her this week, but after the other night, after shutting her out, yelling at her, would she even speak to me?
I detested confrontations, especially with people I cared about. But emotions and denial made things muddy and ugly. Tania had always been there for me, always pitching in, offering solutions, a don’t-worry-we-got-this hug. And now she was in the middle of my and Finger’s tangle in more ways than one.
I had to make this right.
Once Mimi, my new assistant, showed up for work at the store, I went down the block to the Meager Grand and ordered a super large extra deluxe iced coffee that I knew Tania would enjoy. I headed back up the block to Tania’s art gallery/antiques shop, the Rusted Heart. She’d opened up a couple of months ago, making her long time dream a reality, and right here in her home town.
I pushed open the front door of the Rusted Heart, a bell jangling overhead, and strode to the handmade wood slab front desk where she sat, glaring at her computer screen behind a pair of reading glasses. I set the Meager Grand cup on the desk and her eyes widened, tracking up the large iced coffee with a dollop of whipped cream. Good coffee was serious business.
She removed her glasses. “That looks insanely yummy.”
“That’s cold-brewed.”
“Bless you, my child.” She grabbed the coffee and took a greedy sip from the tall straw, groaning. She gestured to the rattan armchair next to her. “Sit.”
I sat down, my muscles relaxing one by one. “I’m so sorry about the other night at my house.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Better. I’m sorry I lost it. You came over because you care, because you were concerned. And I was a mess. I’ve been a burden to you. For years now.”
“No, you haven’t, Lenore.” She eyed me. “Things are complicated. I get that. But maybe you could give an inch.”
I traced over the fresh scab on my arm. “Finger was really angry.”
“Being upset was at the heart of his anger. He’s trying, Lenore. He’s reaching out.”
“He hates me.”
Maybe he didn’t, but he just might one day soon. Hiding behind denial was easier than having to chop its thick vines into little bits and burn the pieces, inhaling its bitter smoke, exposing the naked truth. Not easier, no. I’d just gotten used to it.
Finger hating me had always been a painful idea, but now it was no longer an idea, a “one day maybe” theory, but an imminent reality staring at me in the face with dark eyes that pierced my soul, their molten power melting everything inside me down to its essence. And that essence was us; if I was going to move forward with him, I’d have to be totally honest and fearless in that honesty.
“He doesn’t hate you. He can’t,” Tania said. “I hate all these bad feelings flying between all of us.”
He’d given her a hard time too, and she didn’t deserve any of it. “That’s my fault.”
“I’m not trying to lay blame here.” She put her coffee down and took in a breath. “I’m tired. I was up late last night with my mother.”
“Is she okay?”
Tania explained how her mother hadn’t been dealing very well with her MS this week. Two steps forward, one step back, over and over again.
“I’m so sorry your family’s going through this. I have something that can cheer you up.”
Tania shook the almost empty coffee cup, the ice rattling within. “Vanilla vodka over ice?”
I let out a laugh, and that cramping in the pit of my stomach finally released its evil pinch. “No, no. Too early for that. This is way better. I’ll be right back.”
I went to my store, and placed her gift in a small shopping bag, and went back to her gallery. I handed her the bag, a grin on my face. I knew she wasn’t able to spend much time or money on herself with setting up her business and caring for her mother. She’d had a crush on Butler for a long time and now Butler was free, and her divorce was being finalized. If I could offer her a moment’s pleasure, I damn well would. That I could do. Erase her stress for just a little while. To wipe away the smudges, dirt, and blurriness like efficient windshield wipers.
My grandmother had the right idea. The gift of hand-made pretty was like no other, and that’s why I’d named my business for what she’d given me.
Tania’s eyes widened at the sight of the purple Lenore’s Lace bag. I drew out the piece I’d designed for her.
“Holy—”
“I know.”
She stared at the dark red corset hanging from my hands. Tania speechless? The mark of success.
Her fingertips slid over the textures of silk bands and lace. “It’s gorgeous. It’s—”
“I made it for you. I’m almost finished with it. One piece. One size. Yours. Try it on.”
Her eyes darted to mine. “Lenore—”
“Ah, Tania, trust me. I know these things. With your skin and hair...”
All she needed was encouragement, a last push up the mountain’s peak to see the Promised Land beyond. The air got thin up there, you needed support. I knew the signs, and I knew how to encourage. But I wasn’t only offering a dream here. Reality’s beauty was reaching out to Tania. Her very own beauty.
She took in a deep breath, her gaze magnetized on the corset. She was envisioning herself in it. My pale skinned, black haired, dark eyed Cinderella and her scarlet ballgown. I made one hell of a fairy godmother. My heart swelled. If I could be Tania’s fairy godmother, just this once.
“You can’t take your eyes off it, can you?” I asked.
“Give it here.”
I carefully laid it in her arms, the fabric gliding over our skin.
“Go,” I ordered.
Kicking off her shoes, she went into her back room.
I gave her a few minutes. “Honey, you need help?” I stepped into the room and my heart thudded in my chest.
Hell yes, best Fairy Godmother ever.
“It’s perfect. This color on you—it’s even better than I hoped.” I smoothed my hands down her back and across her waist. “Fantastic,” I murmured to myself.
Her skin trembled under my touch, and my eyes went to hers in the mirror. “Hon, you okay?” I stood up again and put my arms around her, my chin on her shoulder. “Tania, what’s wrong?”
“You’re amazing,” she said, her voice small. “This is a beautiful work of art. I feel beautiful.”
“Babe, you are beautiful. Only you could carry this one off. The color on you is—”
“Stunning. Somewhere between blood and wine.”
“Exactly. Your eyes really pop, and your skin is glowing, that dark, shiny hair.”
She pressed a hand against her middle. “I don’t even mind my tummy.”
“Stop. Your body looks great. I think you’ve lost a few pounds lately. Stressed out much?”
“Just a tiny little bit.”
“And don’t say a word about that ass. It’s glorious.” My hand slid down the curve of her hip.
She let out a small breath, her eyes ungluing from her reflection.
“What is it, Tania? What’s wrong?”
“I haven’t felt this way in a long, long time.”
“What way is that?”
“You know what I mean.”
I squeezed her hip. “Say it out loud right now while you’re feeling that shit.”
She met my gaze in the mirror once more. “I feel like the me I want to be. The me I’ve always wanted to be, but was never usually on the outside—sexy, in charge of myself. Powerful. Bold.”
I gripped her arms. “That’s the Tania I know. This one right here. Very powerful. Very bold.”
“That’s the act I put on for everyone. Or when my back is up against the wall.”
“No.”
“Yes. There’s a part of me that’s still a scared little girl. Scared of the dark, scared of twisty roller coasters, scared without her daddy, scared of bikers wielding knives.”
My chin lifted. “That’s not the Tania I know. No. This Tania is only scared of being alone, of not being enough.”
She bit down on her wobbly lower lip, a tear slipping down her cheek. Her fresh scar visible on her chest.
I pressed into her. “I know. Don’t I know?” My voice a hoarse whisper.
“You know.”
I wiped the tear from her face. “Hadn’t we said no more tears?”
“Tell me you’ve kept to that deal all these years.”
I made a face. “Nope.”
“Didn’t think so. Me neither.”
I sniffed in air. “It’s all right. We’re tough, you and me.”
Tania covered my hand with hers. “I’m glad you’re in my life again, whatever your name is.”
I laughed.
This is what mattered. This.
Tania pressed the side of her face against mine. Her peppery flower scent rose between us, capturing the rush of emotion in my veins like a snapshot.
“I really, really am glad,” she said.
I wouldn’t have made it without you. “Me, too.”
A small smile tugged on the edge of my mouth. “You’re really falling for Butler?”
“Yes,” she breathed, her lips pressing together.
“You’re questioning it? Maybe it’s too soon after your husband, and you need to be on your own for a while?”
“I’ve been on my own for years and years. That’s not what I want.”
Such conviction.
“Then, what is it?” I asked.
“I’m questioning myself. Maybe I don’t have what it takes to go the distance.”
“That’s the fear talking.”
“Says the expert.”
“We’re talking about you now,” I shot back.
“I don’t want to screw this up. He and I are both screwed up enough as it is. How many second chances do you get in life anyhow?” Tania’s teeth snagged on her bottom lip.
Second chances. I’d felt there were no more “chances” to be had for me, that I’d used them all up. That fact was riveted deep after all this time, holding my tattered soul in place, otherwise it would jump out of my skin and leave a zombie behind.
I’d become a rocket blasting into the air, only to nosedive and crash back into the nameless field from which it came. No sprint through the stars, no landing on fresh, unchartered territory. Some nights, I still smelled the fumes over my ashes.
I refocused my attention on the gorgeousness that was Tania in the scarlet corset. Here I was urging her to grab her second chance by the balls. And what was I doing?
She smoothed a hand over the side of the fabric. “I want to be with Butler like I’ve never been with anyone before, ever. But now he knows that I’m keeping a secret from him. A secret involving Finger. I haven’t told him all of it. Nothing about you.”
Tania was having to keep secrets for me from her lover. This situation certainly wasn’t fair. She needed to be unfettered. I was trying to do that for her with this corset, but she really needed something else from me, didn’t she?
And so did I.
I turned her around and leaned her forehead against mine. “You’re a good friend, Tania.” I planted a gentle kiss on her lips.
Tania and I never got involved sexually again after the motel with Finger. The threesome had been my idea, and I’d made her feel safe and beautiful, and she’d given the same to me. She given all of herself to me and Finger, helping us get past the fresh sting of our hell. That intense, burning level of frankness between us had never diminished.
Tania cleared her throat. “I need to tell you something. Cards on the table. I can’t keep it from you, and I don’t ever want you to think that—”
“What is it?”
“After you left him, after you...”
“After I broke him, you mean?”
When he’d seen me with Eric, pregnant with Beck.
She shifted her weight. “Yeah. He and I, we bumped into each other after that and...”
Oh man.
They’d had a relationship? A thing?
An ache bloomed in my chest, gathering force, sweeping up my throat and down my limbs. An invading army marching across my tattered battlefield. But it wasn’t jealousy that marched through me with every soldier’s heavy footstep. No, it was an acute sense of sadness. Displacement. Guilt, even.
I held up a hand, shaking my head at her, stopping the booming tromp of words I didn’t want to hear. I’d hurt him, I’d left them both behind, and they’d been there for each other.
“You don’t have to explain, Tania. I’m glad that he had you in his corner. I’m glad he tried to forget.”
She threw her head back. “Dear God, you are so wrong! He did it to remember.”
My heart stopped.
Those soldiers lined up before me, and I backed up against a wall.
Ready.
Aim.
Tania’s eyes pinned me to that wall. “His passion for you is some kind of fury. A fury whose fangs and claws have sunk deep. A fury that won’t let go. A damn tidal wave of love, anger, pain, desolation. A tidal wave that won’t quit. And he tortures himself with it.”
My breath burned in my lungs. She’d just described my soul.
“He got on with his life,” I said. “So did I.”
“Yeah, he sure did. Just like you did.” A flicker of derision crossed Tania’s face. “Oh, there were the usual women. An old lady here, and another one there. They never lasted long though. Not one.”
“Well, I’m glad he had you.”
How long did it go on for? Did I want to know? It didn’t matter. It really didn’t. Why shouldn’t he have tried for happiness with Tania?
“Oh Lenore, we were only two people grabbing at something we couldn’t have.”
I plucked the shopping bag off the floor. “It has nothing to do with me.”
“That is such bullshit, and you know it! It was all about you!” Tania’s voice snapped. “You have to let him in. You have to tell Finger. I won’t ever. I made you that promise. But you have to tell him.”
To tell him would upset and shock him, and he’d probably hate me. To not tell him held up the barrier between us, a barrier I couldn’t pretend wasn’t there and enter into a relationship with him, casual or otherwise. Hell, there was no casual between us. That wasn’t us.
Either way, I’d lose him. Either way.
I folded the bag and placed it on a nearby box.
“Who’s afraid now?” Tania asked. “Finger knows I know more than I’ve been letting on. Honey, the other night was crazy.”
I’d pulled a gun on him, for fuck’s sake.
“He was so angry,” I said. “He got angry at you, too.”
“Yes, he did. But that’s because he felt powerless. He wants to help you, and he doesn’t know how. He’s desperate to reach you.”
My stomach curled at the memory of his very real desperation to reach me that night, to be good to me, to make me feel safe, to make me feel the emotion he still carried for me. That we were still possible.
If only I would—
My hands went over my ears.
“You still love him.” Tania pulled my hands from my head. “Can’t you say it? Why can’t you say it?”
Because the truth would slice deep. “Too much has happened.”
“No. You have to be brave. You have to be brave enough to act on that love.” Lacing our fingers together, Tania whispered, “How brave are you, Rena?”
I raised my head high. Since I’d met Finger, all I’d done was act bravely on that love. Everything I’d done was for that love.
Swords had hung over our heads, pendulums had swayed across our chests, we’d stood in line for our turn at La Guillotine. And yet, through all of that, all of it, we’d loved.
And now? Now that the way was clearer than ever before?
Still had to be brave. Still had to fight for it, risk for it.
I held Tania’s eyes. “How brave are you?”