“But … you always said that you encouraged him to go on the expedition.”
“Of course” – I groan painfully and jump up from the chair. I start to pace back and forth, distressed. – “I encouraged him because I loved him and I wanted to see him satisfied. But you don’t get it, Rachel? If I were more important to him than his anthropology mania, he would have been safe with me.”
“He loved you” – she says, almost desperately, which sounds pretty weird from her mouth considering that while River was alive she bit into him and prodded at him.
“He did love me. But it seems like he didn’t love me enough to give up on his ambitions for our marriage. Oh Rach …” – I lean against the wall and stare at the ceiling. – “Don’t misunderstand this. I loved him, and I will always love him. I will never forget what he did for me. He pulled me out of depression and self-destruction when we were teenagers. He gave me self-confidence. I know that I owe a lot to him, and I also know that I encouraged him to go to this expedition without me. But you know … this is exactly the difference between Jamie and him. Jamie would never have left me alone. Even if I had begged him to do it.
“How do you know?” – She asks and twirls a blonde lock between her fingers wildly.
“He told me. We were talking about self-accusation and similar stuff, which both of us have struggled with. But he freaked out badly when I told him River left me alone while I was sick.”
“And he claims he wouldn’t ever have done that?”
“Yes. He’s totally different. He’s like … you know that too … maniac type. And I feel that I’m his mania more and more.” I raise my shoulder.
“Hmm … it’s easy to blame the person who’s not able to protect himself” – she notes bitterly.
I stare at her wide-eyed. What the hell is her problem anyway? Why does she hate me so much, and where has that joyful girl gone, who always made me, in all kinds of circumstances, happy, and who stood by me. Anger flows over me. What do I explain here at all? I have this feeling, more and more, that this friendship is bleeding from multiple wounds.
My phone starts ringing. I rummage it out from my pocket, and I see that Bree from Chloe is looking for me. It’s surely about the designs. Before I start to go downstairs I say back to Rachel, who stares at me with obvious dismay on her face.
“No one blames River. But I’m surely not willing to blame myself anymore because I wasn’t with him when he died, or because the search expedition failed. I spent enough time fighting with self-accusation. I can’t help what happened. It wasn’t my fault. He decided to dash out alone. And by the way, I ordered champagne and cold cuts for your birthday. It was shipped today.” – I add frostily.
#
It’s after 6:30. We closed the shop. Scott is busying himself with cash register, and Mandy and I are making space for the improvised aperitif on one of the counters, and Tracy’s going back to the storage to bring out the cold cuts and the champagne. Its Rachel’s birthday today, and we agreed to throw a mini-celebration for her after closing. Only the employees are invited, plus JJ and Jamie. I was pretty surprised when it turned out that Rach invited Jamie too. Of course she organised the celebration before our unpleasant conversation 2 days ago. As vehemently as she protected my virtue, I can easily imagine that she regretted inviting him. As far I know, one or two of Rachel’s mates will come too, who I know only a little. I count the glasses half out loud and calculate to myself if the 4 bottles of champagne I ordered will be enough. There are a few bottles of beer in the back, in case of emergency. Finally, Rach, Sven, and Tina run in from the other shop and almost at the same time Jamie and Rach’s other friend. In total, 4 of them. Shit! I start to doubt whether the amount of alcohol we have at our disposal is enough. There are 13 of us. Ok, I’m not counting myself, because it’s even better if I don’t drink alcohol today. I thoughtfully planned the night awaiting me. It wasn’t hard. I will work on the evening dresses until I collapse. So, champagne for 12 people. 12 people per 4 bottles: that’s one bottle per 3 people. It must be enough. – I ponder to myself, busying myself with my nails, when a warm hand slides to my waist from behind. Jamie’s deep, hypnotising voice hits my ears.
“Hi.”
“Oh, hello. I didn’t even see you.” – I fib, and I really hope he didn’t notice as I scanned him from head to toe when he came through the door.
Grey dress pants, light grey simple shirt, and a sporty elegant steel blue one button jacket. Brown leather shoes. Perfect. I couldn’t even have dressed him more splendidly myself. Good god, what thoughts! – I roll my eyes and start to vigorously remind myself of all of those sober and prudent decisions which I repeated to myself as a mantra for the last 48 hours. 1. Jamie is my ex brother-in-law. 2. Even if we are not officially, nor according to blood, relatives, people still see us as though we are. 3. Jamie is a friend, and nothing more. 4. Kissing with Jamie = taboo.
Ok, it’s not a problem. I can make it – I exhale a lot and give him such a fake smile that my mouth is almost ripping.
“You’re beautiful” – he says, completely open, and moreover even loudly, as he examines me with face-blushing thoroughness. You are too – the first thought comes to my mouth, but I manage to swallow it before it bursts out from me.
“I love when you’re wearing black. It mind-blowingly emphasises your beautiful green eyes.”
It’s obvious he chose as the central task of his life to make mine totally miserable. – I groan to myself and I try terribly to be angry with him. But the truth is that this loose spaghetti strap black jumpsuit with gold belt and a matching little blazer is my favourite too.
“Black is the colour of grief.” – I note sourly, but soon regret it. It must be aggravated frustration in me that I want to hurt him when he really doesn’t deserve it.
He doesn’t answer, just looks at me with overcast eyes, and walks away. The exciting warmth is immediately gone. In its place an icy emptiness runs through my heart. I have to remind myself of my decision once again, and, putting on a fake smile, I join the others. Jamie pours himself mineral water and drinks it in one go, while still looking at me. Rachel goes to him and they talk for a few minutes, but unfortunately I have no idea about what, because JJ pulls me aside to say that he has a small surprise for Rachel. It’s terribly hard for me to listen to him, and I mostly just nod nervously. I peek at Rachel with half an eye, and I almost freak out over what they might be talking about. Rach laughs out loud tensely, and Jamie is shaking his head. And then after, Rachel leans close to him and whispers something in his ear, and then she turns away and wants to leave him. Jamie reaches out and grabs her by the elbow. He yanks her back and tells her something with a strict gaze. It shouldn’t be allowed for me to be occupied by the whole thing so much, but I can’t control myself, and I’m not able to take my eyes off them. JJ asks if everything’s alright like this, and I just nod oafishly.
“Of course. Just do as you see fit.” – I give in.
“Ok, then for starters I’ll bring out two bottles of champagne.” – Mandy joins us.
“Back in the storage. I put the bottles in the fridge.” – I yell after her.
“Ok.”
When I look back again, Jamie’s not alone anymore with Rachel, but Rach’s friends are surrounding them, and they’re vehemently discussing something. My phone rings. Gran is calling. I pick up and step to the side a bit. I explain to her the situation and I’m sorry but I’m sure I can’t get over to hers today. We agree that I will go over on Monday evening and we will have dinner together. I say goodbye and when I turn back I see that the small group is looking at me. Sven waves to me to join them. I go there unenthusiastically. He introduces me to the people I don’t know yet, and he tells that I’m the fashion designer of the shop. Everyone is in awe, and praises me as necessary. Rachel just incidentally throws in the info that Jamie is, by the way, the twin brother of my dead husband, which thoroughly kills the mood. I suspect the reason she did that, but it was still a really foolish move. Jamie blinks dimly, almost threateningly at her too. I can see the poor people don’t know how to react. Should they offer condolences? Should they feel sorry? I take a deep breath and tell them that it’s an ancient old story and let’s talk about more funny things. They accept it immediately. We chat a bit about fashion, and all kinds of superficial things, and I notice that one of the girls targeted Jamie for herself. She’s a short black-haired girl with a nice face. She has a tattoo on her wrist and a long text about destiny decorates her neck as well, but I won’t tire myself to read it. I remember that Jamie had a period when he surrounded himself with those kind of tattooed types. After a while, JJ announces that he will give a toast, and he shares the crystal glasses amongst us for the champagne. The tattooed girl throws in the eyelash batting trick, and she blinks intently at Jamie. It’s obvious she wouldn’t reject him if he asked her if she wants to be the mother of his child. The girl giggles loudly and says, to say truthfully, she shouldn’t be allowed to drink because on the way here she ran into some friend who invited her for a round because it’s their birthday too, and she’s already tipsy, and she has no idea how she will get home, blah blah blah. I don’t know what kind of evil ghost possessed me, but I seized on the opportunity to pile on one more shovelful.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure Jamie would take you home willingly.” – I blink at her. – “Anyway his favourite colour is black. You are exactly his type.” – I point to her tattoo. – “Right, Jamie?” – I look at him, challengingly, and he stares back at me with furrowed eyebrows. He opens his mouth to speak, but then changes his mind. He’s quiet, and he focuses on me reproachfully.
The black-haired girl wants to say something, but then JJ raises his glass and taps it with a fork. Everyone is listening. Mandy starts to pour out the champagne, and I feel so embarrassed because of what just happened, so I rather decide to make myself useful. I start to open the second bottle. JJ gives it his all. He talks jokingly about how they met. He mentions some misunderstanding about a certain pair of briefs which enjoined great success. Everyone is laughing, even me. Rachel is the only one staying serious and she stares at Jamie almost constantly. And Jamie doesn’t even notice her, but is focusing on me. An excessively unpleasant situation. JJ finishes his storytelling. He raises his glass up high, and gives a toast. All of us join him, and the glasses clink. For a moment, it runs through my mind it would have maybe been better if instead of mineral water I consumed a bit of alcohol. Then I remember the last time I had this feeling. A catastrophe. I have a sip, with a sigh, of my water, and let Sven set us all up for a group picture. The mood is pretty good and it seems that Rach has also finally thawed. The two bottles of champagne are running out quickly. Mandy looks at me with open arms and I show her there’s no problem, I’m going back for a resupply. I put the two empty bottles into my hands and start off back to the storage. It’s dark inside; I turn on the light. I have just stepped in but the door closes immediately behind me. I turn around and crash into Jamie’s hard chest. I clutch the two bottles at my sides, and my face almost drills into his grey shirt. I take a deep breath and breathe in his smell deeply. It’s manly, full of testosterone mixed with some remnants of the smell of shower gel. I look up into those dark entrancing eyes and I know immediately that I’m in trouble.
“Oh, it’s you? I just came for the champagne.”
He takes the bottles from my hands and puts them on the nearest shelf. I stay paralysed like someone who fell under the enchantment of a cobra. Jamie grabs my shoulder, and in a single movement, he pushes me against the door, slides his left hand under my thigh, and lifts me up in his lap. With his right hand, he grabs around my chin and gently tilts my face up. He draws his beautiful lips, which in the last few days and nights continuously filled my fantasy, mutely and with dead seriousness towards mine.
“Jamie.” – I groan. – “Anyone could come in.”
Whaat? What does it mean ‘anyone could come in’ you cretin? Where is the: take your hands off my body and your mouth from mine immediately and let me out of this damn erotic trap because otherwise … – I scold myself.
Instead of answering, he lets go of my face, and with a single movement turns the lock and his hands stick to me immediately quick as lightning. I swallow hard. Dammit. I always forget how effective this guy is. I search desperately for my serious mantra-ed decisions in my brain, which should be exactly a help for me in a situation like this, but at that moment a dense pink fog fall over me, as he rubs his full lips on mine from left to right with voluptuous slowness. I have to say something. I need to say something!
“No. I don’t want to.” – I say, with less conviction.
“What don’t you want?”
“To kiss. You.” – I exhale voluptuously.
“Do you mean that?” – he asks gruffly and glides his tongue on my lower lips and makes way for himself more deeply at the corner of my mouth.
“Yes.” – I sigh.
“Yes?”
“Yes. I don’t want to kiss you.”
“Then this is a no now?”
“Yes. Oh my god Jamie. No. This is obviously a no. Stop it.”
“Stop this?” – He murmurs and, taking my lower lip between his teeth, sucks my pulsing flesh sensually.
“Yes, this. Stop that …” – I whisper in his mouth, totally lost, floating between desire and doubt.
In the middle of the last words of my objection, my lips open willingly and I let him slide his tongue sensually around mine. I don’t protect myself, I don’t try to stop him anymore. I take him in greedily, I pamper him, and I enjoy his voluptuous touch with complete devotion. My deceptive body betrays me again. It’s as if the control transfers to him at the moment when he touches me sensually. My fingers clutch at the nape of his neck again, and I can’t do anything else but groan voluptuously when he sucks my lower lips tightly between his teeth. His eyelids spring open and he inhales the air sharply. He squeezes me against the door with his hips and lets me know with tiny tantalising movements that my closeness has an obvious effect on him too. I can hardly breathe too; he drives me to the brink of insanity. I can feel his desire drilled into my lower abdomen and my body is inflamed. He’s still holding me pinned against to the door, but pulls his mouth from mine and tries to soothe his distressed breath. He looks deep into my eyes and he says in a quiet voice, almost begging:
“Never do this again. Please Honey!”
He doesn’t have to explain. I know exactly without that that he’s referring to my former devilry with the tattooed girl. It really was a huge stupidity. I shake my head.
“You hurt me. And not only me but also her, when I tell her I don’t care about her at all and I won’t take her home.”
I feel ashamed, like a small scout caught red-handed smoking a cigarette secretly behind the shed. But at the same time, some kind of tasty satisfaction runs through me. I close my eyes, and whisper devotedly:
“I’m sorry. I won’t do it anymore.”
“You didn’t think it seriously, right?”
“No. I didn’t think it seriously.”
“Then, good” – he nods.
He breathes soft kisses on both of my eyes, resulting in the rest of my strength going out of my feet. He steps back and, wrapping his arms around my waist, pulls me off from the door. We look at each other for a while, and then I point hesitatingly at the door handle.
“Then I’ll … go back now.”
He nods, and his palm slowly glides off my hips. I smooth down my pantsuit and fix the spaghetti straps to their place. I smooth my hair with my hands, and I put my necklace into its place. Totally awkward. I turn the lock and open the door. The sound of laughter hits my ears. How long could we have been inside? Anyway it seems like no one missed us. I head off towards the others when I’m reminded of the champagne. Fuck! I turn back and briskly walk to the storage. The door is still open. I step in, and find myself in front of Jamie’s fiery gaze. I clear my throat, and my mouth opens unintentionally into a shy smile.
“The … champagne.” – I stutter, and point with my head behind Jamie’s back.
He turns around and takes out the last two bottles from the fridge. Do I see a mischievous grin on his face as he gives me the bottles?! I take them and turn around. But in the door I still stop in my tracks and turn back.
“You’re not coming?” – I ask, with furrowed eyebrows.
“I’ll stay a bit” – he says with a bit of neutrality in his voice and shrugging his shoulder, gesturing with his chin to his groin.
I follow the direction with my eyes, and then I spot the pretty obvious bulge in this grey cloth pants, and heat flows over my face. I avert my gaze and mumble embarrassed.
“Oh … I get it.”
I turn away and leave with dangerous speed. My feet are still a bit unstable, and I honestly hope I’m just imagining the huge letters written on my forehead about what I did in the last few minutes. I put the bottles on the counter, and the company immediately rallies around me enthusiastically with their empty glasses. I know it’s stupid, but I’m still embarrassed. I try to convince myself that they can’t possibly know what just happened. It’s true that my face is still burning, but it can also be the effect of the alcohol. And it’s totally beside the point that I haven’t drunk a drop, but they can’t know that. I start to pour the glasses reached out towards me, and when I get to Rachel’s, our gazes lock. She’s intent on me, with her forehead wrinkled, as if she wants to see into my head. She looks over my shoulder suspiciously to the open door of the storage. This is really bad! I see out of the corner of my eyes that Jamie’s stepping out of the door right then. He runs his long fingers through his hair and starts off towards us. I look at Rachel. Her fingers seize the stem of the champagne glass, and her face changes to snow white.
Jamie really didn’t take home the pretty small black-haired girl; instead, he exchanged a few private words with her before we said goodbye, and after he held my hand and led me out of the shop. It’s me sitting next to him again in the car while we scoot along to Floral Street. I steal a glance to the side, secretly, and philosophise on where the hell he learned to kiss like this. Is there a special course for it? Father in heaven, how many women he must have had to kiss to get to this mind-blowing level. Or maybe it’s some kind of congenital genetic alteration. Some sort of compensation by nature because of the Asperger’s? With a sign, I fidget in my seat, and watch the trajectory of the raindrops trickling down the window. Jamie is deep in thought too. We don’t talk, but somehow the silence is still not awkward. He stops the car at the disabled parking place not far from the house. This is a definite sign that he won’t accompany me up. He gets out and appears on the other side after a few steps to open the door for me. Gentleman. He helps me out, stands in front of me, and scans me for a while with his head tilted to one side. The air around us is smouldering like crazy. I press my fingers into fists and tuck them behind my back just to resist the tantalising temptation. What I would like most of all is to jump on his neck and drag him into the apartment.
“Do you want me to take you up?” – He asks in a gruffly sexy voice.
Yes. Yes. Yes. I beg you!
“I think it’s better if you don’t.” – I mumble, with less conviction.
“Are you sure?”
“No. Yes!”
“Then which now?” – He asks, wrinkling his forehead.
“Yes.” – I answer desperately, aware of the fact that I’m making a complete fool of myself.
“Why?” – he stretches the string further, and the thread rips for me at that moment and some kind of silly attack of honesty flows over me.
“Because you are overly attractive and you have an overly big effect on me, and because this whole situation is overly and damn complicated.”
A sexy smile flows over his face.
“You find me attractive?”
Huh? There’s no way that this is the single thing he remembers of my pitiable small monologue! I sigh resignedly, my head falls on my chest. Jamie reaches under my chin and lifts up my head gently. There is again this adoration in his eyes, which I always see there when I have enough courage to lose myself in his gaze. He leans towards me and kisses me briefly but powerfully.
“I love you” – he murmurs into my lips, and pulls back immediately. – “But it’s better if you go back now. It’s chilly. You’ll catch a cold.”
“Ok.” – I answer, enchanted.
I turn back from the gate, and I see that he’s still standing next to the car waiting for me to go in. I wave to him, and he smiles. Going upstairs, it comes to mind that I really have to put myself together if I want to spend the night with the designs. My thoughts wander far away from the evening dresses, but I must strictly stick to it. I’m running out of days before the deadline.
#
“Hi! Where are you?” – Tina asks as she pokes her head into the office door.
Is it possible that there’s so much mess on my desk that I’m lost in it?
“Hi Tina!” – I give her a half smile behind the sizeable pile of papers.
“Oh my god, Hannah! You haven’t gotten up from your desk since this morning?” – She asks, astonished.
“Not exactly. The deadline is pressing on me because of the Miss gala, and we have our own things here, so …”
“You look like shi… like death” – she notes wrinkling her forehead. – “Are you sick?”
I rub my throbbing forehead and answer with a sigh:
“I think some disease has taken over me. Just what I needed.”
“Your immune system became weak. Not enough sleep, sparse nutrition: your body’s protesting against the improper treatment” – she notes pedantically. Or simply just Sven infected me, who’s been going to work half-dead for three day