“Yeah, she’s the one.”
“Go on…”
“So, of course you know Javier and I had the splits, right. So, I was literally having a breakdown after rehearsal and when Taylor noticed it affecting me, she decided to take me for drinks.” That wasn’t entirely the way it happened, but I left out the part about Taylor being rude at first. Beth didn’t need to hear that.
“Annnd?” She drew out her words, her unspoken lecture over my slow recollection of the night’s events loud and clear in her tone.
“And, we had a great time actually. We were just sharing bad breakup stories and laughing. You remember that guy I dated senior year. He played the tuba and God was he a dork, but—”
“You’re not getting to the juicy details!” Bethany’s end of the line clicked and banged, like she was smashing her phone on the table or something. I cringed and held my phone away from my ear until the banging ceased.
“What was that!” My ear rang from the clatter.
“Listen, just tell me what happened with you-know-who. The guy you used to have wet dreams about, the one who made you cream your panties.” The long drawl of a soda straw emptying the container it was sitting in reverberated through the speaker. “That’s all I care about. That is why I cut my workout short.”
I sighed. My way of telling stories never jived with Bethany. She preferred the nitty gritty, while I loved to have the full setup. I shook my head at her insistence but continued the story so as not to frustrate her curiosity.
“So, he bought me a drink.” I smiled, and Bethany squealed. “I don’t think he knew it was me at all. I mean, he was definitely making eyes at me the entire time, and then when I got up to leave, I took him one of my cards.”
“And?” She looked giddy, like a child at Christmas waiting for the next gift, believing Santa brought them exactly what they wanted.
“Stop interrupting!” I chuckled and continued. “And he accepted it. I thanked him, and then I left.”
Bethany grew quiet, not quite the reaction I was expecting, though I understood it was a bit anticlimactic. I held my breath, waiting for her to scold me or something, but she remained quiet. When I heard the crunching, I realized she was chewing on something, which was the reason she was not speaking.
“So…” Her mouth was so full I couldn’t understand her. “You gave him your card with your name on it?” More chewing sounds. I rolled my eyes.
“Yes, Bethany. He has my name, number, where I do business. Why? What did you want me to do? Sit on his lap and beg him to take me home? Like ‘Hey there, big boy, wanna be my sugar daddy?’”
Bethany laughed so hard I could envision the food being spat from her mouth. She snorted in true, Bethany Holmes fashion, and I thought I heard her choking on her food. It reminded me of the time in middle school when Kevin Smith stuck noodles up his nose to make it look like he had whiskers and Bethany almost peed herself laughing. I could picture her doubling over.
“Are you okay?” Jokes aside, I did worry about her right then.
After a bit of coughing, she calmed and said, “I’m fine. Sheesh, girl, you almost choked me to death. You pick the worst times to be funny… So do you think he will call?”
“Beth, I don’t even know if he knew it was me. I don’t think he did. I think—”
“It’s not like you grew up or anything.” She laughed at her own joke, which I did not find funny. I’d spent a great deal of time trying to get out from under the shadow of the wealth my mother had accrued over the past several years by “marrying up” she called it. Basically, she traded spouses every few years for a richer model the way people traded in cars.
“I will just wait and see if he calls. What is the worst that can happen? No call? He ignores me?” I shook my head. “I’m going to go. Gotta keep this line open in case he calls for a hot date.”
“Good one. Let me know how it goes? Still on for lunch this week?”
“Yeah, bye, Beth.” I hung up just as another yawn escaped. It wasn’t laughable that Victor might call me. If he found me attractive from across the room then maybe, just maybe, he would forget the age difference and look at me as the woman I was.
5
VICTOR
The sweet odor of cigar smoke hung in the air long after my previous client had left, his insistence on the nasty habit a constant blight on our meetings. I’d had Ivy purchase a plethora of air fresheners and even an air filtration unit, but nothing would ever replace the scent of clean air untainted by the smoldering remains of tobacco.
The card in my hand had captured my attention yet again, the words “Katherine Scott” scrawled out in a fancy font, done up in raised chocolate lettering. I wondered if the address on the card was her private address, or if she had an office somewhere—likely the latter. Who would put their home address on a business card? Then again, what sort of musician had an actual office?
I turned the card slowly, tapping it on the edge of my desk as I thought about our chance encounter. Had she even recognized me, or known who I was? A lot had changed in the past 10 years, almost to the day. Kat had grown into a ravishing woman. Who’d have thought the goddess I saw at that restaurant who had captivated me so much I’d been distracted during a client dinner, would have been the young woman I’d almost become a stepfather to? But here I was staring down at the numbers that made up a phone number where I could reach her. And my body tensed just remembering how amazing she looked, her smile, the perfect pout on her ruby lips.
My gaze was drawn to the window as a plane passed overhead, our office so close to the airport we’d had to soundproof the entire floor of the high-rise just to ensure we could hear each other during meetings. I wondered how we had both lived in this city for the past 10 years and not run into each other even one time. It wasn’t like Dayton was such a huge city that we would be lost in the sea of faces, and it wasn’t like I had been a recluse—I got out.
A tap at my door drew my attention. Ivy stood in the open doorway holding a stack of files. Her non-typical updo surprised me; normally she wore her hair down.