Uncommon Romance (10 page)

Simone sipped her drink and checked her watch. The ice had long since melted, leaving her with the watered-down remnants of her martini. Top-shelf wasn’t enough to save it. She’d been here too long, and the piped-in instrumental covers of top-40 crap were giving her a headache. She’d like a few minutes alone with whoever had conceptualized this bastard-child of the music industry. That person needed to feel her pain.

Simone dropped her drink on the closest shelf and admitted defeat. As she turned to excuse herself, the only reason Simone had wanted to stay walked in the door.

Abigail Nelson. Blond, aloof, statuesque, bitch. In a word, perfect. Except she wasn’t really all that bitchy any more. She was still blond and looked like she was carved to perfection rather than born and grown into adulthood like the rest of the planet. And the aloof thing wasn’t really happening anymore either. In high school, she wore it like a protective layer, like she was afraid of the unwashed masses getting too close and rubbing off on her. Now she smiled, greeting people warmly.

Simone hadn’t seen Abby since Gavin’s promotion party over a month ago and had been both hopeful and afraid Abby would escort Gavin to the Christmas party. She desperately wanted to see Abby, but knowing that her relationship with Gavin hadn’t changed left her deflated. The anticipation she’d felt sagged into defeat.

Abby had called more than once. Simone answered the first time because she didn’t recognize the number. As soon as she realized who it was, she hung up. She hadn’t answered again. Abby was toxic for Simone. Regardless of how she looked, how much Simone wanted to believe the change she saw was real, she knew it wasn’t true. Either Abby had a boyfriend, who also happened to be her boss, or she was lying to
everyone
about it. Neither option appealed to Simone.

“Jesus, Simone, just fuck the girl already so you can stop glaring at her.” That bit of advice came from Simone’s not-quite-sober best work friend, Marco.

Simone swirled the gin-soaked olive through her fresh martini, then snatched it off with a snap of her teeth. “If only it were that simple.” Simone left out the part where she’d already fucked Abby and it hadn’t stopped the glaring.

Abby met Simone’s gaze from across the room and gave her a half smile. Abby’s hand rested in the crook of her boyfriend’s arm. Gavin was gallant like that. Rather than holding her hand, he offered his arm like he was living in a
Leave It To Beaver
era movie. As much as Simone hated Abby with him, she had to admit he was good to her, boyfriend or not. They shared a comfortable intimacy and Simone was jealous. She wanted that for herself.

Simone saluted Abby with the oliveless pick and turned her body, if not her attention, back to Marco. “Why are you slobbering your drunk ass all over me rather than rescuing your wife from Stevens?” Simone inclined her head toward the corner where Marco’s wife was boxed in by the ever-persistent Stevens. Unlike his partners, who tried to pretend to have some socially redeeming qualities, Stevens had no indication of humanity. In his opinion, the milk of human kindness was an obscure concept best left to folk musicians and Buddhists. He wanted money and all manner of shiny things. The shiny thing that had caught his attention at the moment was Belinda Lewis. That she was married to an associate was irrelevant to a motivated and highly intoxicated Stevens.

Belinda’s smile strained at the edges as she tried once again to navigate around Stevens’s arm. She was unsuccessful.

“Son of a bitch.” Marco was off on his white horse to rescue his fair maiden. Belinda’s smile when he arrived was real. And Simone’s requisite good deed for the day was done. Another ten minutes and she would be clear to leave.

Abby materialized beside her, an ethereal dream come to life. “Hi, Simone.” Gavin was nowhere in sight.

“Hey.” Simone sipped her martini thoroughly enough to border on gulping. This woman unraveled her. Always had.

“What’d you do with Gavin?” Not that Simone wasn’t happy Abby was alone, but it seemed the obvious conversation starter. Besides, it was dangerous for Simone to be alone with Abby at company parties. Abby belonged to Simone, whether Abby and Gavin knew about it or not. And that feeling of ownership made it unsafe for Simone to spend time with Abby. She was likely to do something rash. Still, she lingered.

“Why won’t you answer my calls?” Abby tipped her drink to her lips and evaluated Simone over the rim, her eyes dark and curious. “I can’t stop thinking about you,” she murmured between sips.

Simone liked Abby’s conversation starter better than her own, but it only led to disaster. Fucking straight girls with boyfriends had lost its appeal for Simone a long time ago. Except for this girl, apparently. As much as her brain said this was a bad idea, Simone’s body was at full attention, rapt and ready to act if given a chance.

Simone edged nearer to Abby—close enough to be suspect if anyone was paying attention. “Don’t let your boy hear you say that.” Simone wanted to press her lips to Abby’s ear, to let her breath caress Abby’s skin, but she held back.

Abby stiffened. “I told you, he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Right. I forgot.” Simone couldn’t afford to believe Abby. She’d watched the two of them together. She might not be his lover, but she definitely loved him. Simone didn’t want to learn exactly where the line was drawn in Abby’s heart. “Maybe you should tell him that.”

“He knows.” Abby spoke with the conviction of truth. “What can I do to make
you
believe me?”

Simone shook her head. She leaned in closer to Abby, unable to avoid temptation. It was such a bad idea, but just as she’d thought, once hadn’t been enough. Abby was so deeply infused in Simone’s consciousness she feared she might never be able to remove Abby’s mark. She lied to herself, promised she could control the fall if she could just keep Abby from talking about
real
things. For Simone, it didn’t get much more real than her decade-old, unrequited love for Abby. Her only hope was to walk away, but her feet refused. And her mouth betrayed her as well. “Tell me what you’ve been thinking about me.”

“About you, the way you feel.” Abby took a breath and her eyes slipped shut. “The way you make me feel.”

Simone waited. She wanted more from Abby. She wanted to hear Abby say that she was unraveling, that Simone made her fray at the edges, the same as Abby did to her. She said nothing and they stood together, breathing each other in, capturing the other’s exhaled breath.

“God, Abby, I want—”

“There you are,” Gavin said, relief in his voice. “I thought I’d lost you.” He slipped his arm around Abby’s waist, pulling her into his bubble and out of Simone’s. Simone was getting goddamned well tired of him interrupting their near-intimate moments.

“I was just catching up with Simone.” Abby smiled, her mouth a tight, small line, and inclined her head in Simone’s direction. The dark edges of her eyes cleared as she spoke to him, re-casting herself as devoted girlfriend.

“Oh, yes. I forget the two of you know each other.” Gavin squeezed Abby indulgently, then his hand edged upward toward her breast. “Remind me how?”

“High school.” Simone answered for Abby, leaving out their recent exchange of bodily fluids in the Holts’ driveway. “If you’ll forgive me, I’m going to head out. I’ve absorbed as much holiday cheer as I can take.”

Simone slipped out with a wave to Dmitri and Holt, who were propped up together at a table with several empty bottles of champagne. As the newest associate, Simone had to attend these events. Fortunately, staying long enough to see the three senior partners make complete drunken asses of themselves was not. She’d seen more than enough for one night.

Simone glanced toward Abby one last time as she collected her coat. Abby stared at Simone from across the room, her gaze never wavering despite Gavin’s presence at her side. Simone wanted to look away, to prove she was unaffected. Instead, she maintained eye contact until the doors closed on the elevator, a physical barrier reminding her of the distance between herself and Abby.

*

The phone was ringing when Simone entered her apartment. She answered without checking the caller idea and instantly regretted it. She’d momentarily forgotten she was screening her calls.

There was no response when she said hello.

“And that was fun, but now I’m hanging up.” Simone had her finger on the END button when she heard a faint voice.

“No, wait.” Abby sounded distant, hesitant.

“Where did you get this number?” Prior to this point, Abby had limited her stalker behavior to Simone’s cell phone. “Gavin would have my cell, but not my home phone.”

Abby laughed. “I didn’t ask
Gavin
for
your
number.” Abby’s answer was a slap in the face to Simone. Why wouldn’t she get it from him if they weren’t lovers?

“Why not?”

“He’s my best friend. I’m not exactly eager to admit that I keep throwing myself at you, even though you’ve said you’re not interested. More than once. It’s embarrassing.”

“Best friend?” Simone blew a raspberry between her lips. It just looked and sounded like bullshit.

“Yes, Simone. We’re friends. How many fucking times do I have to say it?” Abby was angry and Simone thought it was sexy.

“He’s all over you. Every time I see the two of you. Tonight he practically copped a feel with me watching.” Simone was still pissed about that move.

“And that bothered you?” Abby’s voice was full of hope that Simone thought she didn’t deserve to have. Their relationship, for lack of a better term, was a non-starter.

“Of course it bothered me. Jesus, Abby. I don’t want anyone else to touch you. Ever.” That was more honesty than Simone had prepared for. It left her throat raw and her heart vulnerable.

“Why not?”

Simone focused on her breathing, one slow, easy inhale followed by a metered exhale. This conversation just needed to end.

“Simone?”

“I need to go.” All she had to do was hit the disconnect button. It was so simple and yet she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“We need to talk about this.” A soft breath. “Please.”

Simone wanted to hang up. She
needed
to hang up. Maybe she could force Abby to do it for her. “Let me change out of this dress first.” She sighed and dropped the phone onto her bed without putting it on speaker. She needed a few minutes to clear her head. Perspective came with distance, and with Abby she needed a lot of distance, more than a few minutes’ reprieve from a phone call. Simone slipped out of her dress and into a well-worn T-shirt and shorts. She left the phone sitting long enough to remove her makeup and brush her hair and teeth. If she left it long enough, maybe Abby would give up and disconnect the call.

“I’m back.” Short of simply hitting the disconnect button—which she knew wouldn’t work because Abby would just call back—Simone had no choice but to push forward with the conversation.

“Good. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me.”

“I was hoping you’d think that.” Simone settled into bed. Unable to admit she hadn’t been able to forget about Abby for the past ten years, she figured a few minutes while she changed for bed was no threat to her memory.

“You never answered my question.”

“And I’m not going to. Where are you now?” Simone had left Abby at the party, but there weren’t any telltale party noises in the background.

“I just lay down. It’s been a long day.” Simone heard a light rustling of fabric and pictured Abby settling into her bed.

The image of Abby stretched out wearing something small and black and lacey with her hair down, probably mussed, hit Simone in the gut. She’d worked hard after high school to put Abby out of her mind. But all that work unraveled a little bit more every time Abby so much as exhaled in Simone’s direction.

“Tell me what you wanted to talk about.” Simone hated how soft her voice was, how needy. She purposely thought of the threat Abby posed to her well-being, to how close she was to falling apart completely. It didn’t help.

“Simone…” Abby paused. “I just…”

“Yes?” God, she sounded so eager. It was embarrassing.

“I just can’t stop thinking about you.”

Simone refused to jump on the statement. She already sounded like an eager puppy begging for more. It felt far too familiar, and she refused to relive the fantasy created by her sixteen-year-old self. It was bad enough that she was once again on the phone with Abby, listening to her breathe and trying to build up the courage to ask for more.

“What about me?” Simone shifted her phone to her left hand and gave her right permission to roam. If Abby was going to call her up and revive a long-dead fantasy, Simone was going to take full advantage. Besides, whether her brain wanted to do this or not, her hands and body were fully engaged. “Tell me what you think about, Abby. Do you think about how we used to be friends? Or do you think about the kind of friends you’d like us to be now?”

Abby gasped, her breath ragged, but still she didn’t speak. Apparently she’d called Simone up to let her do all the heavy lifting. And that pissed Simone off.

“You want to know what I think about?” Simone stopped playing. She twisted her nipple between her thumb and forefinger. They were really doing this, and by the sound of Abby’s breathing, Simone was behind. “I think about how it felt to finally get inside you.”

“Oh, God.”

“Are you touching yourself, Abby? Are you touching yourself and imagining it’s me?” Simone pushed her shorts down, and they got caught around her ankles. She kicked hard but could only get one side to come off. She left the other hanging and shoved her hand inside her panties. She hissed as her fingers slid over her clit. It had been at attention for the past month, since first seeing Abby again. “Jesus, Abby, the things I want to do to you.”

“Yes, please.” It came out more a moan than words, but it was enough. Simone wanted to hear her shudder through a climax.

“What are you doing? Tell me.” Simone tried to sound stern, commanding, but she was too desperate to pull it off. Instead, she sounded like she was pleading for her life.