Gloria was the first person I saw when I got out of the elevator. She was on her phone, pacing the length of the hotel lobby. That was typical for Gloria, but it was her face, whiter than my shirt, that had me worried.
At first, I thought it had to do with Mable, because I hadn’t seen her since early yesterday. After our fight, Mable had been keeping her distance. She believed the worst of me—this happened, when you weren’t completely honest with someone you cared about. I had acted out at the wrong time, out of jealousy, because every man had his breaking point, and Mable was mine.
There was so much more to my story, and honestly, I couldn’t bring myself to speak the words without reliving the pain—but then again, the pain never went away. It only subsided enough to make life somewhat bearable. In the past two years, I’d fought hard to keep my emotions under the water, away from the light. So I’d immersed myself in work; it was the only thing that kept me afloat. Everyone close to me understood that it wasn’t something easy for me to open up about—the loss—without sending me into a downward spiral. Then Mable had come into my life—or had I come into hers?
That night we met, I wasn’t supposed to be there, but something changed when I stopped at a red light on my way to the Nylon party. That was when I first saw Mable at the intersection, passing us primitive blokes as we took in the sight of her. But there was something peculiar about Mable. She never once glanced in my direction, and then her head came up like someone had called her name. And it made me wonder about a belief there is: that two people who are meant to be together feel this unexplained force when they are around each other. I had felt it, and it had only made me wonder: did she feel it too? When she got onto the sidewalk, some moron in a yellow Bugatti hollered the kind of shit that made us look like a bunch of Neanderthals. She walked away, but not before she flipped him the bird. She had me, there and then.
I thought I was in my right mind, and it wasn’t something I was in the habit of doing—but after that interaction, I wanted to make sure she made it safely to where she was heading off. Maybe she had a boyfriend, and I should have minded my business, but I wanted to stay in the belief that something amazing was about to happen. If I lost sight, I would never find her again. It seemed inevitable; Mable lit the fire in me that demands pursuit, and so I followed.
“Hey, is everything okay?” I walked over to Gloria when she got off the phone.
“No. Tracy’s mom is in the hospital.” Gloria was staring at me, but her mind was elsewhere. “She took a nasty tumble.”
“Will she be okay?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. The woman is eighty-five years old—everything at this point is critical.” She put her hand on her forehead, and her sequined sleeve caught the light, sparkling like a million diamonds.
“What should I do? I’m so far away, and Tracy needs me right now.” I knew Gloria, and it was very typical for her to get lost in a glass of water.
“Look, it’s straightforward—you will go back up and pack your things. I’ll find out about the next available flight.”
“What about the party? And Mable was looking forward to tonight …”
“Where is Mable?” I glanced around.
“She’s upstairs getting ready. I want her to go to the party without me. Can you make sure of that? Take care of my cousin while I’m gone?” she said, as I walked her back to the elevator. “You owe me a favor, remember?” She cast me concerned eyes, and I was disappointed she had to ask.
Didn’t Gloria realize what lengths I would go for Mable? But then again, Mable was the kind of girl that never needed to be taken care of by anyone. She had paid back her father and the agency every penny she had borrowed from them. No, Mable wasn’t the kind of girl that wanted to be saved; she was capable of saving herself. That was why I found Mable so refreshing. She was the only person who expected nothing from me, and I would bend backward for her if needed. For her, I would.
“I never bought into that, the whole Cinderella thing. The girl waiting for the dude to save her, and they live happily ever after,” Mable said, standing in the middle of a shoot we had worked on last month. Her lips were painted red and the gloss cake on her face made her looked like a manufactured doll. I watched her struggle with the stupid dress, kicking out the layered tulle from underneath, trying to move around the fairy-tale set, which I had had the crew build for this project.
“It’s a bunch of crap to feed young girls. There’s no such thing as fairy-tale endings,” Mable said. I waited for the makeup artist to add the final touches before we shot
When the makeup artist removed herself from the set, I started shooting a few frames for a test run.
Chick che … flash.
“Well, let me rephrase it. I don’t trust that happiness comes easily. It takes hard work and choosing the right decisions after making a couple of shitty ones, and maybe then you’ll get a happy ever after.”
“Huh, interesting … I never thought about it that way. Maybe there’s still hope for us.” The words came out the way they should have, but I could see in her eyes that she didn’t trust their meaning—maybe I didn’t either.
“I can’t believe you’re making me wear this—I’m pulling such a sweat.” She held on to the plastic wig with her gloved hand. “Noah, it’s not staying on.” She giggled as it toppled over.
I loved the sound of her laughter.
Chick che … flash.
“Just you know, I’m keeping this.” She meant the synthetic yellow do-up with the painted blue headband. The whole theme of this editorial was what happened after Cinderella came back from her honeymoon, and so Mable was playing the part of the cinder girl who had metamorphosed into a princess. Not my idea—the magazine’s.
“And what are you going to do with it?” I smiled.
“Burn it,” she said flat out.
“I see someone didn’t have their brekky this morning,” I said, watching Noah readjusting the headpiece.
Chick che … flash.
“Why couldn’t Cinderella be a girl who took charge of her own destiny? Just ditch her evil stepfamily and be determined to live a meaningful life? Who knows what she could have been instead of a princess … Maybe a buccaneer.”
“A pirate?” I mused.
“The captain of a large vessel.” Her eyes shone brightly. “She’d run a tight ship.”
“If she’s anything like you, sure.” Over the months I had come to notice a sudden change in Mable, something that wasn’t there before. It was as if she’d realized she could trust herself.
“She’ll eventually return, though,” she continued, “There’s always something that brings you back home.” Her words lived within me, and I allowed them to sit there for a moment. I’d been all over the world, lived in three different countries. It was easy to uproot myself, and in all honesty, it didn’t bother me. For a short moment Rachael had been my home, where the heart had once lived, but now that was gone.
Chick che … flash.
Home … It was a word I had lost sight of, and it would be difficult to define it these days, but something had come over me where all I could think was that the answer might have been staring me in the face.
“And what of the prince?” Now I was curious to know.
“That’s where my version takes an interesting twist.”
Chick che … flash.
“Cinderella hears about this boring ball that’s happening, and when she sees the prince for the first time, standing there, looking so miserable, she knows she has to save him. So she walks right up and taps him on the shoulder and says, ‘Dude, you know, we could turn this night around. But first I want to know: are you in?’”
Something mischievous flashed across her eyes, and I suddenly laughed. She was having fun at my expense. Well, maybe I deserved it.
“Seriously, you guys should just get on with it,” Noah said, coming from behind Mable after repositioning her headpiece for the last time. “It’s just disgusting to watch you two.” He huffed before walking away.
“What’s his problem?” Mable flashed an amused look. It happened so often that I forgot that we had a large entourage. I guessed she had that effect on me: simply made everyone else disappear.
“So now, how does this story end?” I asked, watching her contemplate it for a moment before a smile reappeared.
“They go back to the ship, and she has him scrub the deck floors. Only then does she know if he’s a keeper.” Mable winked.
“Shit. Poor fella, he never knew what hit him.” I couldn’t help but laugh. She had me owned with everything she said, the way she thought, the way she could get a chuckle out of me, at all unimportant things, silly things. But it was the best time—only with Mable. I think that was the moment I realized something had shifted: the day she made me think about home again.
“Simon?” Gloria’s voice pulled me back, and I realized what I needed to do.
“Don’t worry about Mable, I’ll take care of her even though she hates me right now.” I halted in my steps, wondering if Mable told Gloria what happened between us.
“No, she doesn’t hate you—” Gloria turned around, gave me a side smile. “But you want my opinion?”
“I have a feeling you’re going to give it—no matter what I say.”
“I shouldn’t have to tell you how to live your life, but I can’t refrain myself any longer. You deserve to be happy. It’s time to face your issues and move on. Mable won’t wait forever, you know?” I watched Gloria disappear behind the elevator doors.
I didn’t know what to say; it was never easy to be transparent with anyone. I wasn’t a man who wore my emotions, but that needed to change. The question stirred in my mind: had I suffered enough? I wasn’t sure if an eternity would be sufficient. I couldn’t dredge all the pain up at that moment, not when the next elevator doors opened, and there she was, looking like a Greek goddess. Mable stiffened at the sight of me.
When she had composed herself, she walked out of the elevator and the fabric of her dress flowed behind her, exposing her beautiful legs.
“So? What do you think?” She spun around, and it made me smile.
The thing about Mable was that you couldn’t stay mad, not at her—not at the world. She was a good example of the fact that, even though she’d been through a lot, it wasn’t going to get her down and, if it did—not for long. And maybe that was why she faced everything with empathy. She saw the world in another light; it only made me want to love her even more. That was why I was hesitant to tell her what I had been through. I knew she would feel for me, and I was not ready to let anyone in, to share the pain. I couldn’t do that to her.
“Wow, lost for words, that’s a first, Simon Rowe,” she said, trying to put the awkwardness behind us. I was in trouble. Not even heaven could help me. “You don’t like the dress?” Her brows knitted together.
Christ, what’s not to like about the strapless, long emerald number that caressed her curves perfectly?
When she’d come into my hotel room the day before, all I kept thinking was of her beautiful neck and how badly I wanted to kiss it. The tension had been building between us for weeks. Well, I knew how it went—the heart wants what it can’t have. At first I had to question my motives. Was I acting out of jealousy? Yeah, of course. But I also wanted to protect her from Julian. I was too damn stubborn to admit that, not only did I care for her, but I loved her, too. My emotions went beyond spending time between the sheets, like I’d been accused of. There is a path that leads down to desiring someone and wanting intimacy. Over several months we had kind of drifted back and forth like the tide, pushing ourselves far enough until we had to go back. It was fear holding me in place. I know that now.
“No, what’s not to like? It’s very … breathable.” I shot her a look of amusement.
“It’s not that revealing.” She tapped my arm with her black clutch purse.
“You look beautiful.” I said. Mable smiled, like she was satisfied with my answer.
“And you look sharp. No tie?”
“Nah, I hate wearing ties, they make me feel restricted. But it doesn’t mean I don’t like to use them.” I was messing with her, and the side of her mouth slightly rose.
“Maybe one day you’ll show me what exactly you use them for?” She tapped my chest, walking past me. I was relieved that she was willing to let it go, and I hoped that, when the moment was right, she would give me a chance to explain.
“Where’s Gloria?” Mable slightly turned back.
“She went up.”
“Back to our room—why?”
“There’s an emergency. Tracy’s mom is in the hospital.”
“Oh no, what happened?”
“She fell.”
“Maybe I should go and see what I can do to help.”
“Gloria wants us to go on without her.”
“I feel kind of bad … to go now.”
“I know, me too. I’ll tell you what, why don’t you go up, and I’ll find a place to get us some coffee.”
“No, go to the party. I’ll stay with Gloria until she leaves for the airport, so there’s no reason why both of us should stay behind.”
“I’d like to stick around, if you don’t mind? Gloria was always there for me.”
“Are you sure?” Mable said, looking me over.
“Nah, yeah, you know me. I hate these events … I wouldn’t have fun anyway.” Not without Mable, that’s for sure. I was toast, wasn’t I? The moment my eyes saw her face. It was as though I’d dreamed her up. Mable was the kind of girl a man will always be haunted by. The way she had wrapped her arms around me, sitting behind me on my motorcycle. I was hooked. All I had wanted to do after that day was to claim that sweet mouth of hers. I hungered to taste … again, even now.
“Okay.” She made her way toward the elevators. It hurt to watch her walk away, because there was no reason for me to believe she’d come walking back.
“You go ahead. I’ll be up soon,” I said. She nodded, standing between the open elevators. Her eyes never left mine until she allowed herself to disappear behind the metal doors. I wondered how I was going to start the conversation. Maybe I should start by telling her that, when she’s around, the darkness leaves me.