Lost in Us (21 page)

"Perhaps you were looking for an excuse to see me," he says.

There is an edge to his voice despite the coolness in it. It doesn't match the conceited smile.

"That's not why I came," I say and instantly wish I had stayed silent, because what little my coming here didn't betray, the longing in my words just did.

He advances toward me and I take a step back, not putting any distance between us because I bump into the door. He puts his palms on the door on both sides, trapping me between his arms. There's no escape now from his piercing gaze or the intoxicating scent of his skin. My will is my only defense.

"Then why? Why did you come, Serena? Do you miss me?" he asks in an almost pleading tone.

I can see in his eyes that he hasn't forgiven me for those cruel words I spat at him the last time we saw each other. I haven't forgiven him for what he did either. But none of this seems to matter, because the need for each other is stronger than both of us.

"Tell me you do," he whispers in my ear, and the urgency in his voice almost crumbles the last of my defenses. Almost. There is still a wisp of determination in a distant part of my mind that his proximity hasn't taken over. I can't show any sign of weakness.

He's the first to show a sign of weakness. Or maybe it's strength. Courage, even. Because admitting my longing seems like the hardest thing to do.

"I miss you," he says and moves one hand on my waist. Even through the fabric of my black dress, his touch has the power to set me ablaze. "Let's start over. Today. Tonight. There's a charity event I was invited to. I wasn't planning on going, but we could go together."

"You know as well as I do it will end as soon as it starts," I say weakly, wishing I could find a way not to feel his hot breath against my neck anymore. Or at least not respond the way that I do, with a light tremor and a drumming heart. 

"It won't. We deserve a chance, Serena. A real one. Come with me tonight."

I'm so close to saying yes. It would be so easy. So tempting. My whole body begs me to say yes. My mind almost decides on saying out loud the word that would surely shatter my heart in no time.

And then my salvation comes, in the form of laughter.

Not mine. Someone else's. A high-pitched laughter, resembling a lark's screech. I can hear it even through the concrete wall and wooden door.

"Please don't read anything into this," James pleads, now putting his other hand on my waist as well. "Natalie owns part of this company. She does come here from time to time."

I leap from his arms just as the door opens and Natalie walks in, her dark brown hair falling in waves, wearing a ridiculously short white dress that reveals almost every inch of her long, perfectly tan legs. The last thing on her mind seems to be checking on her company's state. Good. She reminds me why I must never allow myself to be weak again.

When she notices me, the corners of her mouth instantly lift in a practiced smile that matches the hypocrisy in her tone.

"Serena, how good to see you again. How is your friend keeping up? She looked devastated when she came here."

I take a few seconds to try and make sense of her words. When I still can't come up with a satisfactory explanation, I ask, fighting to keep my voice even, "You mean Jess?"

"Yes. Poor thing was so desperate."

"What are you talking about?" I say blankly. "Why desperate?"

Her eyes light up with maliciousness. "For money, of course. James, darling, tell me you didn't forget to pay her debt. It obviously meant a lot to that girl,
insignificant
as the sum might be."

I swirl to James, who watches Natalie, enraged, the vein in his temple twitching. But his rage is no match to mine.

"Jess asked you for money?" I ask through gritted teeth.

"Yes," he says, watching Natalie, his eyes squinted. "I thought I told you—"

I do not find out whatever he told her, because the door opens again and a girl that looks my age comes in. She wears a black suit and a nervous expression that tells me it was her CV James was skimming through.

"Hi," she says in a small voice. "I was told this is where my interview is."

I
don't go right inside my apartment building when I get out of the cab. I linger in front of the entrance for a few seconds, trying to convince myself that verbally abusing Jess won't do anyone any good. But to be honest, if the two hours I spent wandering around San Jose in an attempt to shake off my anger were fruitless, a few more seconds hanging out here have no chance. I had stormed out of the office before James managed to introduce himself to that girl. But not before Natalie had managed to humiliate me again, by repeating how insignificant the sum was, and that neither Jess nor I should worry about having to pay it back. There have been very few times when I've been furious with Jess. I don't remember ever being
this
furious with her. Not when she made out with Ace, my first crush. Not even when she read my diary, which consisted of delirious letters I wrote to a long-gone Kate.

I drag myself up the stairs, and when I open the door to our apartment, I find Jess crouched over her laptop, her bandaged leg up on the couch, her messy hair bundled up in a bun. For some reason her pathetic appearance makes me even more furious.

She looks up at me with concern. "You look terrible. Your interview didn't go too well?"

"My interview went just fine," I hiss. "You know what didn't? My trip to that godforsaken bar."

She lowers her gaze back to her laptop with a slight frown. "What were you doing there? I was under the impression you weren't a big fan of the place."

"Don't play stupid, Jess," I cry, unable to hold my voice down. "You know what I was doing there. Trying to sort out the mess you created. I went to give that creep the check."

"I don't remember asking you to deliver anything," Jess says in a dangerously calm voice. "I don't remember asking you to sort out anything, for that matter."

"No, the numerous phone calls from the bar owner, which I had to take because you couldn't be bothered, did."

"Maybe it's time you stop trying to sort everything out every time. I'm a big girl. I can handle my own stuff."

"You did a fantastic job until now," I spit.

Silence.

"Why did you ask James, of all people, for money? What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that I had a problem and I needed to solve it. And I did."

"The problem was already solved, Jess," I say, exasperated. "By Parker."

She sets her laptop aside and puts her hands together in her lap, watching me like she did when we were in high school when she was about to tell me that she wanted to skip a class and I had to cover up for her. "I didn't want him to get involved."

"What? Why?"

"Because he's a jerk, Serena. I don't know how you can stand him."

"I'm sorry, have you
met
Parker? He's nothing but kind and polite."

"To you maybe," she splutters. "To me he's a prick."

I stare at her, wondering whether her accident has caused some serious brain damage. But as she takes her laptop back, immersing herself in it, I remember that there is another side of Parker. He can be judgmental, yes. But he keeps those thoughts to himself. He's never not been polite even to Natalie, despite his opinion of her. I snort. If there's one person who could exasperate Parker to the point that he would abandon his gentlemanly manners, it's Jess. I knew they had a falling-out, but I didn't know it was this serious.

"If you didn't want him to pay you should have said so and we would have come up with something else, not let that moron from the bar blindside me like that. It would've saved me a very humiliating scene with James and Natalie."

"You went to see James?" Jess asks incredulously.

"I wouldn't have if you'd bothered to tell me anything in advance."

"You are seriously blaming this on me? Christ, wake up, Serena. You couldn't wait for an excuse to see him."

"That's not true."

She shakes her head. "Stop lying to yourself." Her voice is softer. "It's okay to feel like this."

No it's not. Nothing can be okay or even sane about the vivid dreams that I am ashamed to recall, which star James and me.

The doorbell rings.

"Are you expecting someone?" I ask.

"Nope." 

I wrack my brain whether I've ordered anything online, but it's far too late for a delivery anyway. I open the door to a vaguely familiar middle-aged man wearing white Bermuda shorts and a blue shirt. He holds a package under his arm. One second later I realize it's Daniel, James's concierge. I didn't recognize him right away because I've never seen him without his uniform.

"Good evening, Ms. McLewis." He hands me the package. "This is for you."

"What is it?" I ask sharply.

"Mr. Cohen asked me to deliver it. I'm afraid I don't know what is inside. I will leave you to find out," he says, and it's obvious he can't wait to get back to what I assume is a work-free evening.

"Don't just stand there, open it," Jess urges from behind me.

I turn around and throw the package in her direction. She catches it in midair and starts ripping off the silver paper before I manage to close the door.

A dress falls out of it. A gorgeous dress. Made of red chiffon, with a slightly wavy skirt and a tight bodice. It's short, but not ridiculously so. The label confirms my suspicions that the dress doesn't merely look expensive. It is expensive. Very. It's a Valentino.

"I can't believe this," I say, anger building inside me again.

"He must want you back badly," she grins.

"And he thinks this is how he'll get me? One expensive dress and I'll be at his feet?"

"Oh no, dear, where he wants you to be is in his bed."

"And that's exactly what you think I should do, don't you?"

She shrugs. "You already know my opinion on this."

I do. And I'm glad that she refrains from telling me yet again what a mistake she thinks my leaving him was. She crouches to pick up the fallen silver paper. "There is a note here."

The beam on her face when she hands me the tiny card fuels my anger like nothing else. I lower my eyes to the card.
You look stunning in red. I hope to see you tonight.

And see me he will. Because I decide on the spot to go.

Just not with him.

I grab my phone from my bag and call someone I called one too many times in the past few weeks. Parker answers after the first ring.

"Does your offer to accompany you to the event still stand?" I ask, staring at a stupefied Jess.

"Absolutely," he says in a cheerful tone. "I'll pick you up at seven."

Jess, whose faced turned almost as red as my dress, furiously gestures that she won't let Parker through the door.

"Nah, just give me the address. I'll take a cab."

"
W
ow," Parker says, holding the door of the cab open. "You look fantastic."

"Thanks. You too. A suit and tie really… suits you." I smile. He also looks more like James than is healthy for me, but I don't say that out loud.

I slide outside the cab, trying to resist the urge to put my palms on my calves to keep the dress from lifting when the slightest breeze blows. I know it won't lift high enough for anyone to actually see anything they shouldn't, but I still feel a little uncomfortable. The bright red isn't helping me, either. The cab driver kept glancing at me in the rearview mirror the entire journey. The restaurant looks exactly how I imagined the venue for a charity event to look. Elegant, imposing, with rich floral arrangements decorating each of the six entrances. I wonder if the place is big enough for James and me not to meet each other. No, I know we will meet. My heart beats a tad faster than I wish, and warns me that I'm pushing it, that I should turn around and take off now.

Parker offers me his arm. I take it and we start walking toward one of the entrances.

As I see my reflection in the glass doors, I can't help thinking how much I look like Kate when she went to prom. She wore a red dress, too. It was her favorite color. One of the few things we had in common. Her dress wasn't as fancy as this, and definitely not as expensive. It was longer than mine, but Kate cut a leg split into it that went all the way up to her thigh just before she left for the prom so our parents wouldn't see. She wanted to be sexy for what she called her boyfriend, an unstable boy who was into drugs just as heavily as she was and had a tendency toward being violent. Especially with Kate. But she called that side of their relationship interesting. Said it kept things from getting monotonous.