Chapter Eight
Meg stretched her arms over her head and rolled her chair back a few feet. She’d been crunching numbers all morning for a project, and even though she was way ahead of schedule, she liked to get the busy work out of the way so she’d plowed through, even skipping lunch. The payoff would come tomorrow when she could delve right away into the fun stuff—analysis and problem solving. Her client was way over budget and in need of serious cutbacks and fiscal reallocation. She had some cool ideas already. Right now, though, she was going to reward her hard work with a Diet Coke from the company fridge. She was completely in her own world when she stepped out of her office and heard her boss call her from down the hall.
“Megan, come say hello.” Anne’s voice brimmed with excitement. “Look who stopped by.”
Meg felt frozen solid at the sight of Sasha standing next to her boss. The muscles in her legs seemed to have a mind of their own, however, and before she knew it she’d covered the short distance between her office and Anne’s. She swallowed the mix of anger and desire she felt, hoping to God that absolutely nothing showed on her face.
“Hi, Meg.”
“Hi, Sash.”
There was only two seconds of silence but it was awkward. “Are we working on something with Hewlett?” Meg looked between her boss and her ex-girlfriend as she referenced the rival consulting firm Sasha had left Sullivan for. They shared clients on occasion, Sullivan and Hewlett Steele, and Meg wondered at the existence of a joint project she’d missed.
Sasha bit her lip and looked at the ground. “No. I asked Anne to be a reference for my portfolio. For teaching. I need professional recommendations.” She raised a manila envelope between them. “I was just here to pick it up.”
“And what an easy one to write,” Anne piped in. She threw an arm around Sasha. “You are a wonderful person and a solid employee. If I had children, I could only hope they’d get a teacher like you.”
“Thanks, Anne.” Sasha looked embarrassed and grateful at the compliment.
“So how is the teaching stuff going? You’re looking for jobs already?”
It felt strange having this conversation right now, but despite their rough breakup, Meg genuinely wanted to know about Sasha’s life.
“I’m still working on my degree. I left Hewlett so I could go back to school full time. So I could finish up quicker.”
“Oh.” The obvious dawned on Meg. Time had passed and life was different, not just for her. Sasha had moved on too. She saw Anne watching the strained exchange between them, and was about to say good-bye, but Anne spoke first.
“You girls should go catch up. Meg, take the rest of the afternoon off.” She waved her hand before Meg could protest. “It’s fine.”
She knew the surprise showed on her face at Anne’s out of character suggestion. “I’m working on the Dillinger thing. I should probably stay and finish.”
“Megan, we all know you’re ahead of schedule. Go,” Anne insisted. “Spend an afternoon with your old friend. Life is short.”
She looked at Sasha and saw her eyebrows shoot up hopefully. “What do you think, Meg? Could you sneak off for the day?” She swayed ever so slightly back and forth, and Meg swore she saw hope in her eyes. “I would love to talk to you.”
No two ways about it. This had all the makings of an absolute disaster.
“Let me just grab my stuff.”
*****
In the brisk afternoon air, they walked for several minutes, crossing Lexington and Park Avenues, snaking across town and south, making small talk as they fought the biting wind, finally ducking in to a cute little gastropub at the corner of Sixth Avenue and Forty-Fifth Street. The place was a welcome refuge from the weather, and quaint to boot, with its antique furniture and a fireplace crackling in the back. They were seated in a cozy corner by a waitress sporting a genuine brogue. “Start you ladies off with a drink?”
“I’ll have a glass of cabernet,” Sasha said. She rubbed her hands together for warmth.
“Lovely choice on this bitter day.” She turned to Meg. “And for you, love?”
“What do you have on tap?” Meg asked before reconsidering on the spot. “Forget it. I think I’ll just have water.”
“Have a drink with me, Meg.” Sasha’s face was pleading, even if her voice stayed even.
The waitress tilted her head and offered an encouraging smile. “You heard her, Meg. Don’t make the girl drink alone.” She covered her mouth with her cocktail pad and pretended to whisper. “You never know, if you play your cards right, you may get lucky,” she added with an over-the-top wink.
Meg smiled. “Fine, cabernet I guess for me too.”
“Excellent, ladies. I’ll be right back with your drinks.”
Sasha reached a hand across the table and touched Meg’s arm. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” She nodded toward the bar. “I didn’t mean to pressure you. First, Anne strong-arms you into coming with me. And here I am”—she tossed her head back in obvious distress—“begging you to have a drink.” She shook her head back and forth. “I just wanted a few minutes to see you, to talk, that’s all. Meg”—her voice was incredibly serious—“you can bail if you want.”
She looked from Meg to the door as she waited for her response. She was fidgeting like crazy with the edge of her sweater. Meg recognized the signs of Sasha’s stress and felt a surge of hope rocket through her. What the fuck? She pushed back hard against her ridiculous desire and tried to take the upper hand in stride. “It’s fine.”
“Are you sure you want to stay?”
“Why not?” Meg gave her best reassuring look. “Plus, the waitress sort of implied that you might put out, so…” It was borderline flirty, but it also broke the tension and she watched Sasha relax in her laughter. “So you left Hewlett Steele?” she asked, returning the conversation to PG status.
“I did.”
“When?”
“A while ago.” Sasha leaned on her forearms. “I had some money from my mom’s estate. I know you’ll probably tell me it would have made more sense to continue to work while I finish my degree—”
“I don’t think that.” Meg shook her head. “You want to be a teacher. I think it’s great you’re going for it. Good for you.”
“Thanks, Meg.”
“How’s your little brother doing? He graduated, I assume.”
Sasha nodded, leaning back in her chair as the waitress served their drinks with a broad smile and slid a menu on the table between them.
“Cheers, girls.”
Raising her glass slightly, Sasha looked right at Meg. “It’s good to see you, Meg.”
“Yeah, you too.” She cleared her throat unnecessarily before taking a sip. “So, Devon, you were about to tell me about Devon.”
“Devon, yes.” Sasha wiped the edge of her mouth delicately. “My little brother is getting married.”
“What?” Meg knew her shock registered as judgment. She didn’t care.
“I know. He’s young.”
“Young? He’s a baby. What is he, twenty-three?”
“Twenty-four next month. But he’s happy. Incredibly happy.”
“But he’s a kid.”
Sasha shrugged.
“That’s it, a shrug? You’re not concerned?”
“I know, like everyone else, you think he’s too young, but he’s not really.”
Meg rolled her eyes blatantly.
“He’s finishing up his master’s degree and my dad hooked him up with a good job. He’s looking for a house. Age-wise he may be twenty-three but he’s so much older, Meg.”
Careful to control her tone, Meg made sure her voice held the genuine concern she felt. “Still, Sash.”
Sasha rubbed the base of her wineglass. “Meg, you don’t understand.” She paused and licked her lips as though she wasn’t sure if she was going to continue, but went on anyway. “My mom dying, it did something to him. To both of us. Forced us to grow up. I can’t explain it.”
“I know,” Meg said, even though she didn’t. “Still though, twenty-four is way young to get married.”
“You’re right. But I’m not going to talk him out of doing what he wants to do. Who am I to give him advice on love anyway?”
The comment hit a nerve even though Meg wasn’t at all sure what it meant. She glanced around the bar purely to avoid making eye contact. “What’s going on with you?” It was out before she could stop herself. She took a huge sip of her drink, hating the awkwardness of the segue, the flippant way her voice had come out. More than anything else, she hated herself for wanting so desperately to know the answer.
She watched Sasha swallow hard. “Nothing.”
“So, Roaring Twenties? That’s your scene these days?”
The look of guilt and surprise on Sasha’s face sent Meg the message that her subtle accusation was received loud and clear. Meg pulled back, but only a little. “Sorry, it’s just that…you know, last I checked, you weren’t even gay.”
“I suppose I deserve that.”
Meg grabbed at a paper napkin and spread it on her lap. “I’m not trying to be a jerk, Sash.” Her voice softened as she looked across the small table. “I guess I’m just trying to understand.”
“I don’t know what to say, Meg.” She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I wanted to go, to see what it was like.” She paused and said nothing until Meg looked at her. “I’m glad I did.” Her lips held the hint of a smile. “I got to see you.”
Meg was quiet. She had no clue how to respond.
The waitress’s return saved her. “Ready for another round?” She looked between them as they nodded simultaneously. “Something from the kitchen?”
“I could eat,” Sasha said to Meg before turning to the waitress. “We didn’t even look at the menu yet,” she admitted through an awkward grimace.
“I can just bring you out a little sampler to share, if you girls fancy that.”
“That works for me. Meg?”
“Sure, whatever.”
“Any restrictions?”
Sasha winced. “No red meat?”
“Not a problem, love. Be right back with your drinks.” As she skipped away with their order Meg looked at her watch.
“Gah, Meg.” Sasha covered half her face with her hand. “I wasn’t thinking. Do you need to get home to your, um, girlfriend?” Her voice hitched on the word and it caught Meg off guard.
She shook her head. “Nope.” She smiled, pulling out her phone. “I do have to get home to this little beast at some point.” She clicked on the home screen, a shot of tiny Spencer looking perfectly mischievous and sweet.
Sasha’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open as she tilted the phone in Meg’s hands. “Oh my God. You have a kitten?”
“I do.”
“Get out. She’s adorable. Let me see more pics. I’m sure you have a million.”
Meg handed her phone to Sasha and watched her scroll through the dozens of snapshots she’d taken in the weeks since Spencer had become her charge. “Are you still volunteering at the rescue place on the West Side?” she asked.
“Mm-hmm. Every Saturday.” Sasha continued to swipe.
“Any pets for you?”
Sasha scrunched her nose. “I have commitment issues.”
“That, I am completely aware of.” Meg’s voice was light and she hoped Sasha knew that while it was the source of their undoing, she was just going for an easy laugh.
“Touché.” Sasha rolled her eyes but grinned. She gestured to the screen. “What is this precious kitty’s name?”
“Spencer.” Meg waited a beat. “Carlin.”
It took one second, but Sasha was right there with her. “South of Nowhere?” It was posed as a question, but she clearly knew the answer. “You didn’t?” she finished with a smile and a shake of her head.
“I totally did.”
“I was always more of an Ashley Davies girl, but you definitely had a soft spot for Spencer.”
“And look at her.” Meg selected a particularly endearing picture of her furbaby from the photo gallery. “That head tilt, she’s Spencer Carlin all the way.”
Meg looked over expecting a laugh from Sasha but there was something else in her eyes. She was half smiling as she chewed her bottom lip. “Do you remember that weekend? It rained nonstop.” Sasha ran her middle finger the length of the phone. “I don’t think we even left the apartment.” Her voice was heavy with an emotion Meg wanted to believe was longing. “We binged that show straight through from Friday night to Sunday afternoon,” she added as her voice faded out, making it seem almost an afterthought.
Meg felt her pulse quicken as images of the things they’d done—and where they’d done them—flooded her mind. Teen lesbian drama aside, it had been one hell of a lost weekend.
She found her voice. “It’s a great show,” she said hoping like hell it wasn’t obvious where her mind had really gone.
If Sasha read her, she didn’t show it. Her smile was lovely and genuine as she returned Meg’s phone. “She looks like a great cat. I’m happy for you.”
The waitress broke their moment when she arrived with the food—grilled gruyere on sourdough cut in fours, chicken pot stickers, and truffle fries—placing the items in the center of the table.
Their hands touched as they both reached for the grilled cheese at the same time.
“You first,” Sasha said, redirecting to a french fry. She took one bite and closed her eyes slowly. “Oh my God, these are amazing,” she said covering her mouth with one hand.
For a second Meg felt as if it was two years ago and they were still together as she momentarily let herself get lost in Sasha’s gorgeous expression. At least Sasha didn’t notice, as she reached for the serving dish to tilt a few more fries onto her plate. “So, Meg, when did all this happen. The kitten, I mean?”
Meg shook her head, snapping free of her momentary nostalgia and focusing on Sasha’s question. “Just a couple of weeks ago.”
“Is she adjusting okay?”
Meg bit off a corner of the sandwich. “I think so. She’s eating good. Using the litter box, playing with her toys.”
“And what about you?”
Meg smiled as she chewed. “It’s great. She’s sweet, affectionate. Gives me little kisses once in a while. Does this thing where she touches the tip of her nose to mine. It’s adorable.” She could feel herself smiling like a proud parent. “She sleeps curled up against the back of my knees. It’s precious.” She let out a little snicker. “You know, until she wants to play at three in the morning.” She popped a fry. “Not as precious then.”
“Your girlfriend’s a cat person too, I guess?” Sasha asked, holding a pot sticker and inspecting it. “Is that what prompted this venture into pet parenthood?”
Meg swallowed her food. “No.” As she reached for her napkin, she saw Sasha’s confused look. “I mean, I think she likes cats just fine.” She licked her lips, oddly nervous about what she was about to say. “We’re not together anymore.”
“Oh.” Sasha paused. “I’m sorry.”
Meg shrugged it off. She could tell Sasha felt bad for asking and even though it was ridiculous, she wanted to put her at ease. “It’s okay. It was time.” She took a sip of wine and decided to change the subject. “How are your friends? Jane-Anne and the gang?”
“They’re good. Same old, same old.” She reached for a slice of the grilled cheese. “Oh, Jane’s cousin moved to New York, though. She’s gay. So that’s been kind of cool.”
“Awesome,” Meg managed, even though the news gave her a sudden jolt in the pit of her stomach.
“It’s nice to have someone to go out with.”
“I’m sure.”
“Not as in, like, a couple. Just hang out with. You know.”
Of course Sasha didn’t owe her an explanation but she seemed to be volunteering some information, and as much as she hated herself for it, Meg wanted to know every last detail. Fueled entirely by her second cabernet, she asked the question she’d wanted to know forever.
“So what’s going on with you these days? You dating anyone?”
Sasha hesitated for just a second. She met Meg’s eyes. “I went on a few dates with someone recently.” She frowned a little. “There was no spark.”
Meg hoped she sounded casual. “This someone was a—”
“Kate.” Sasha knew what she was asking.
Meg blinked and looked away, embarrassed over her need to know and her unpredictable jealousy that Sasha had dated a woman, even if there was no connection. She knew her emotion showed on her face, but she couldn’t resist going one step further. “So girls, huh?” It came out sharper than she wanted. Fuck. She grabbed a fry and stuffed it in her mouth, hoping the simple action would underscore her tone.
Sasha sat all the way back in her chair. She was quiet for a minute and Meg stopped chewing to look at her.
“I want the right person.” She held Meg’s stare. “Guy, girl”—she lifted one shoulder slightly—“doesn’t matter. As long as they get me. I want the one, the person I’m meant to be with. Plain and simple.”
Meg forced a smile. “Good luck,” she said, wondering where those words even came from. Sasha pursed her lips and nodded and Meg wondered at the bizarre expression on her face.
The conversation lightened—it couldn’t get any heavier really—and they moved on to discussing Meg’s sister and her kids, work and school, the coldest spring on record. When the bill came they split it down the middle, and as they stepped out into the brisk evening air, they said good-bye, complete with a truly awkward hug.
“It was great seeing you, Meg.”
“Yeah, you too, Sash.”
“Could we do it again?” Sasha asked, backing down the street.
“Sure,” Meg responded before turning around. But with no further plans made, it felt like the kind of thing that’s said but never done. For the best, Meg thought as she walked down the steps to the subway. Seeing Sasha was nice. Maybe it was exactly what they needed. A kind of closure they never really had.
Of course, it sucked that Sasha looked amazing. With her deep blue eyes, porcelain skin, and long dark hair, she could have walked straight out of a magazine. And that smile, forget it. Gorgeous didn’t even cover it. And she’d been as sweet as ever. But that was Sasha, she reminded herself. Sweet one minute, soul crushing the next.
Nope. No more. This chance meeting had given them an opportunity to forge a friendship, perhaps. Nothing more. And that would be okay. It would be fine. Yet, she couldn’t erase the image of Sasha’s beautiful, strange expression when she talked about finding someone. Not just someone, the one. Her heart beat faster at the thought. She blinked hard as she heard the automated recording announce her stop. Pushing through the rush hour crowd she forced herself to think about the rest of her commute, her Sullivan project, the social that she and Lexi were planning. Anything, really. Anything but Sasha Michaels.