Something Borrowed (30 page)

"I know. I'll say something," I tell her. "You have to remember

that I've only seen him one time since our weekend together. And

that was late one night after work. He fell asleep on my couch."

"Well," she says knowingly.

"Well, what?"

"Well, isn't that somewhat telling?"

I know what she is implying. That if Dex loved me enough, he'd

make more time for me. That I have lost momentum since July

Fourth.

"No, actually, it's not telling," I say defensively. "Work has been

crazy for both of us. Les is on a rampage. You know that. We've

literally had no time to see each other."

"All right," she says. "But I'm giving him one more week. Then no

more excuses."

"Two more weeks," I negotiate, and then explain that only a very

shallow person would find it so incredibly easy to cancel an

engagement. That the situation is vastly more complicated than

she is acknowledging. That Dex would not string me along for the

hell of it. That he values our friendship at the very least. That he

also values my friendship with Darcy. That he has integrity. That

he told me he loves me. And meant it. I pull out all the stops,

trying to convince myself along the way.

"All right then," she says. "Two weeks. Absolute max."

I smile and nod, thinking that two weeks should just about do it.

One way or the other.

In the meantime, I must face another hurdle: Darcy's shower/

bachelorette party. It has been on the calendar forever the third

Saturday in July but for obvious reasons I have yet to plan the

evening. Claire calls that afternoon to press me on details. "Should

we go to the Hamptons or stay in the city?"

"I don't know. What do you think?" I am distracted, noticing that

my secretary put two c's in "recommend" on a fax cover sheet that

I failed to proofread. If Les sees it, he will go postal.

"It depends on what Darcy wants," Claire says.

Naturally. It always does.

"Right," I say.

"So? What does she want to do?" Claire asks in a tone that says,

you should know this, you are the maid of honor.

I admit that I'm not sure.

"Let's conference her in and find out," Claire suggests in her

sorority-social chair voice. She puts me on hold and returns with

Darcy on the line.

We present Darcy with her options: Manhattan or the Hamptons.

Claire outlines the pros and cons of each and assures her that

either way it is going to be the best bachelorette party ever.

Darcy says she doesn't care. Both options sound great.

She is

subdued. Something is wrong. Maybe there is trouble brewing at

home, a visible crack emerging in their relationship.

Maybe Dex

said something to her. I feel a surge of hope, which is followed by

a larger dose of guilt. How can I so easily root for my friend's

unhappiness?

"You don't care?" Claire asks. "That's a first."

"You guys decide. I'm fine either way."

"What's Dex doing?" Claire asks. Of course, I am wondering the

same thing.

"I'm not sure," Darcy says. "He mentioned going to the Hamptons

to golf."

"Well, if he does that, we should stay in the city. You don't want

him around for your big night, do you?" Claire asks.

"No," Darcy says. "I guess not."

Something is definitely wrong. She does not sound the slightest

bit excited about a night in her honor. My instinct to soothe her

kicks in. "Claire and I will put it together and let you know where

to show up," I say. "Does that sound good to you?"

"Yeah. That's fine." Her voice is flat.

"Is everything all right?" Claire asks.

"Yeah. I'm just a little tired."

"Okay. We'll work on this, Darce. It's going to be a great party," I

say.

We all say good-bye and hang up. Claire calls me right back.

"What is wrong with her? She sounds upset."

"I don't know."

"You think she's mad at us because we don't have this planned

yet? It is pretty slack of us," Claire says, sounding worried. It is a

scary thing to have Darcy mad at you.

"No. That can't be it. She knows we've told everyone about the

date weeks ago Everyone will be there. It's just a matter of

nailing down final plans. I'll talk to her," I say.

I hang up with Claire and call Darcy back. She answers, her voice

lifeless.

"You sure you're okay?" I ask, utterly conflicted as I wait for her

answer.

"I'm fine. Just tired Maybe a little down."

"Why? How was your weekend?" I ask tentatively.

"It was okay."

"Did you have fun with Dex's father?"

"Yeah. He's nice," she says.

"Do you like his stepmother?"

"She's okay. She can be a pain in the ass though."

Takes one to know one.

"What did she do?"

"Well, for example, she kept complaining about how cold she was

at the theater. You should have heard her carrying on and on

during the whole intermission, even after Mr. Thaler gave her his

jacket. Dex and I were like, well, that's what you get for wearing a

skimpy dress."

Dex and I were like My stomach drops. I hope I'm not in for a

lifetime of those words.

"But overall the weekend was okay?" I probe, pressing the phone

against my ear.

"Yeah. It was okay."

"Then why are you down?"

"Oh, I don't know. I think it's just PMS. I'll be fine."

Ordinarily I would try and wheedle Darcy out of her mood, find a

way to perk her up, but instead I just say, "Well, I better go. Got

some party planning to do."

She giggles. "Yeah. You sure do. Make it a good one."

"Okay," I

say, knowing that I will let Claire do the bulk of the organizing.

She will be happy to undertake the project. I know she believes

that she is more important to Darcy than I am, that she would

have been named maid of honor but for the fact that I've known

Darcy longer. She is probably right. The major thing Darcy and I

have in common is the past. The past and Dex.

The rest of the week passes quickly. I don't see Dex, but only

because he is in Dallas on a business trip. I try to convince Hillary

that his deadline should be extended by three days because he

can't really do anything about his situation while in Texas

(although Dex and I do manage to log over four hours of phone

time). She tells me that if anything, the time away should give him

the chance to really sort through his feelings and come up with a

plan of action. I tell her I'm sure that's what he's doing.

On Friday morning, only hours after Dex arrives back in New

York, he calls and suggests that we meet for lunch before he heads

out to the Hamptons. We arrange to meet at the Pick A Bagel near

my apartment, to avoid the Midtown lunch crowds. I feel nervous

as I take the uptown subway. I have not seen him in over a

week not since I kissed Marcus. I know that kissing Marcus was

not a significant event (apparently it wasn't significant to him

either, as we have barely talked since), yet I feel somewhat strange

when I kiss Dex hello. Not quite guilty, just reticent.

' "I've missed you so much," Dex says, shaking his head. "I kept

hoping you'd fly down to Dallas and surprise me."

I laugh because the thought had actually occurred to me. "I

missed you too," I say, feeling myself relax.

We stand there on the corner, grinning like crazy at each other,

before moving inside the bagel shop. The place is jammed full of

people, which gives us an excuse to touch. His fingers brush mine,

the sides of our legs graze, his hand rests on my back as he guides

me forward in line. I am basking in being near Dex, too distracted

to order. We let three people go in front of us before we both

decide on egg-salad sandwiches to go. We pay for the bagels and

two Snapple lemon iced teas and then walk briskly toward my

apartment. I tell myself not to get too swept up in emotion when

we are finally alone. I really need to bring up Darcy before her

bachelorette festivities get under way. I must do this over our egg

salad. Unless of course he does it first.

Just as we are approaching my building, I spot Claire descending

upon us half a block away. I hear Dex curse under his breath, just

as I see a look of confusion on Claire's face. There is no time to

consult Dex and formulate a story. Five steps later, she is upon us.

We are cold busted.

"Hi, Claire!" Dex says robustly.

"What are you two doing here?" She switches her mustard-colored

Prada bag from one shoulder to the other and smiles a bewildered

smile.

I laugh nervously. "What are you doing here?" I ask. It is a feeble

attempt to buy a few seconds. I am terrible under pressure, an

absolute disaster. I should not be a litigator, at least not the kind

who might ever see the light of a courtroom. I am better suited to

my big boxes of documents in over-air-conditioned conference

rooms.

"I left work early today to get ready for the party tomorrow. I was

just at Kate's Paperie buying wrapping paper and a card for

Darcy." She glances at our brown paper bags. I am carrying our

Snapples; Dex has the sandwiches. "Are you having lunch?"

"No," Dex says. He is perfectly composed. "Well yes, we just

bought lunch. But I'm headed to my car about to leave for the

Hamptons."

"Oh," she says, but is still not satisfied. Luckily she keeps her eyes

on Dex. I have more faith in him than in myself.

"I had to give Rachel something to give to Darcy," Dex says.

She cocks her head to the side. "What's that?"

I don't think she's suspicious; she simply does not consider that

what we are doing may not be her business. In her eyes, she is in

the inner Darcy circle, privy to any information that concerns her

friend. And Dex and I most certainly concern Darcy.

"A note," Dex says. "A little something I want Darcy to have before

her wild and crazy night on the town."

"Oh." Claire smiles, clearly not wondering why Dex couldn't just

leave the note in their apartment, why he would need to designate

me as his messenger. "Well, it is going to be wild and crazy. Count

on that."

"I can only imagine" Dex says.

"So, Rachel, are you taking the afternoon off then?"

I stammer and stutter and say no, yes, I'm not sure, maybe.

"Oh, screw work. Just come with me and run my lastminute

errands for the party. I'm on my way to Lingerie on Lex to get a

few extra things," she says. We have designated tomorrow evening

a hybrid lingerie shower-bachelorette party. "Please come?"

"All right. Sure. I just need to run up and change my clothes and

make one phone call. I'll meet you in fifteen?"

"Great!" Claire says.

I wait for her to leave first, hoping that I can have a moment alone

with Dex, but she is firmly rooted to the sidewalk.

After a few

seconds, Dex gives up and tells us good-bye. I am careful not to

look at him as he leaves.

"All right then," I say to Claire. "See you in a few."

I walk home in a panic, telling myself we are fine, that surely

Claire doesn't suspect such a monumental betrayal.

Dex calls just

as I close my apartment door. I answer the phone, my hands

shaking.

"Hey," Dex says. "Can you believe that?"

"Omigod," I say. "I feel like I'm going to faint. Where are you?"

"Around the corner. In the car Think we're okay?"

"I hope so," I say, feeling my pulse slowly return to normal. "You

were good How'd you come up with that excuse so quickly?"

"I don't know. She bought it, didn't she?"

"Seemed to but what are we going to do about the note?"

"I'm writing one now Shit, I have no idea what to write.

This is

ridiculous I'm going to come up, okay?"

I tell him that it's not a good idea, that I have to go meet Claire.

He sighs. "I wanted to spend some time with you. Can't you get

out of it?"

I feel myself weakening. "Don't you think it might look suspicious

if I blow her off?"

"C'mon. Just for a few minutes?"

"Okay," I say. "Come up. But only to give me the note.

Then I

really have to go meet her."

He arrives at my door minutes later, handing me my sandwich

and the folded note. I put them both on my coffee table next to

our Snapples. We sit on my couch.

"How does stuff like that always happen in this city?" I ask.

"I know," he says, taking my hands. He tries to kiss me, but I am

still too shaken to really reciprocate. I cannot relax. It is as if

Claire is still with us.

"I really should go," I say, angry that she ruined our chance to

have the big conversation, but also somehow relieved.

He keeps kissing me as he removes my suit jacket and rubs my

shoulder.

"Dex!"

"What?"

"I have to go."

"In a minute."

"No. Now."

But as he runs his fingers over my collarbone, I stop thinking

about Claire. Moments later we are making love.

My cell phone rings immediately afterward. I jump.

"Oh shit.

That's gotta be Claire. I really have to go," I say, sitting up.