Cold Feet

Chapter 33



Chapter 33

VIOLA

When life has a plan for you, it has a way of bringing you round to it’s plan sooner or later. That chance meeting that totally surprises or upsets you. That’s life’s way. We seldom see it or accept it for what it is but it sets the trajectory for our life that follows.

I have a meeting with Lara at her office. When I arrive she’s in a client meeting and I wait outside her office making small talk with her secretary.

When Lara opens her office door, I don’t see who her client is immediately. She’s looking back at her client as she talks to them and then she turns and sees me.

“V, sorry I’m running a bit late. I’ll be with you in a minute.” This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

I open my mouth to answer but then I see him. The first thought that runs through my mind is, Oh, Shit! Shit! Shit! No! WTF?” I can’t speak and simply nod as my eyes meet her client.

It’s him.

Rick.

He looks at me and seems about to say something. Lara is looking back at him and I quickly shake my head. He gets the message and says nothing. Lara realizes he is looking at me and introduces us.

“This is V, Viola. She runs our elopement services business I mentioned to you. V, this is Rick.”

“Um, hi,” I say as I hold out my hand. He takes my hand and shakes it firmly. “Pleased to meet you,” he says smiling.

“Likewise,” I add lamely.

“Okay, well call me when you’ve considered the options we’ve discussed and then we can move forward with bookings, and so on.”

“Great, thanks Lara,” Rick says. He throws me a quick glance and then greets us before leaving. I can feel his eyes on me as I enter Lara’s office. Despite my golden brown skin, I’m sure I must be glowing bright red.”

Lara doesn’t need to explain but she does. “He’s getting married to my best friend, Christine and he’s making all the arrangements. I think it’s so romantic. She’s said yes to marrying him but the whole wedding, even the date, is going to be a surprise.”

“Christine Jackson?” I ask.

Lara looks up quickly from her desk as if I’ve just dropped a bomb.

“Actually yes. Do you know her?” Lara asks.

“Not very well. I mean I know she’s famous in the industry but we’ve only met once or twice.”

Lara looks at me as if she’s trying to decide to believe me or not. Then she seems to brush aside her curiosity and sits down. “Anyway, how is our baby doing?” she asks referring to the business.

I do my best to keep it together but a few times, Lara has to repeat herself. I apologize and tell her I’m not feeling too well and that maybe I’m coming down with something. My mind is stuck on Rick. He’s marrying Christine? WTF? How in God’s name did they meet? I feel hurt, lost, adrift, angry. My thoughts are also stuck on the fact that Lara is best friends with Christine. Doubts begin to creep into my mind. I’m sure Christine must know I’m working for Lara. Can I trust Lara I ask myself?

Eventually, my meeting with Lara ends and she greets me with a look of concern. “Go home and get some rest. You’re burning the candle at both ends,” she says.

‘Thanks. I will,” I say.

I leave Lara’s office and take the subway home. I can’t stop thinking about Rick. How can the world be so small? Where is the justice in this world, I wonder? I meet the most gorgeous man in the world and we almost get it on before he tells me how skewed his views of love, relationships and marriage are. Then, when I meet him again, he tells me he’s seeing someone. Why not me? Then in a matter of weeks he goes from seeing someone to getting married?

I can’t believe it. I’m angry. It’s as if the universe keeps rubbing him in my face. You like him. You want to see him. You want to be with him. You can’t have him.

I’m so distracted in my thoughts I can’t find my keys. I search for them in my bag my digging and scratching getting more and more frustrated as I near my door. I’m so busy looking for my keys I don’t see him.

“I think it’s harder for men to find things in a woman’s handbag. We all agree those things are magical with endless bottoms, but I’ll try if you let me.”

I stop digging. I know that voice. What is he doing here? I give up and straighten meeting his eyes. I hold up my handbag and he takes it.

“I don’t normally dig in women’s handbags,” he smiles.

I say nothing but look away for a moment. Then he fishes out my keys and holds both the keys and my bag out to me. I take them both.

“Thanks.”

I brush past him and unlock my door. I step inside and he follows me but I block the entrance. “Sorry, did you want to come in?”

He stops. “I was hoping we could talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I say.

“C’mon Viola. Let’s just talk. Please?”

I look at him and then finally I sigh and leave the door open as I turn away and drop my bag on the floor. I kick my shoes off as he closes the door.

“The living room’s in there. I’ll put the kettle on and be back in a moment.”

I don’t wait for his reply but enter the kitchen, fill up the kettle and turn it on. Then I head to my bedroom and get changed. I’m so happy to get rid of my formal clothes and feel like I can breathe once I’ve got a pair of white shorts and tank top on. Then I return to the living room where Rick is looking at the ornaments on the shelves.

“Are these yours?” he asks when I enter the room.

“I told you this place is temporary. Do you think they’re mine?”

Rick shrugs and his face flushes red.

“Did you come to talk or appreciate the interior decorating?”

I sit down on a single seater sofa and Rick takes his place on the three seater opposite me. I pull my legs up onto the sofa and I see his eyes run over them quickly.

“I guess you know I’m getting married,” he says.

“I do.”

“I wanted to tell you when I got engaged. I thought it would be the decent thing to do.”

“Why? I’m not an ex-girlfriend.”

“I know. I don’t understand why. When I gave it some thought I asked myself the same question. I mean we’ve never actually dated so I couldn’t understand why I thought I should tell you. I even thought of inviting you. I don’t know why.”

“I wouldn’t have come,” I say bluntly.

“I thought so but… why?”

I smile despite myself. “If you thought I wouldn’t come why ask why?”

“I’m curious,” he says.

“Because of who you’re marrying,” I say.

“You know Christine?” Rick asks surprised.

“When you work in the industry you know the people that work in it,” I reply.

“You don’t like her. Why?”

I’m tempted to tell Rick for a moment but then I decide not to. What happened between me and Christine has nothing to do with Rick.

“It doesn’t matter. It’s got nothing to do with you and her. I’m not going to say anything to try and change your mind. My differences are business related. They’ve got nothing to do with her romantic life. And quite frankly your life has nothing to do with me.”

I hear the little switch off in the kitchen and get off the sofa. He watches me as I do.

“Coffee?” I ask.

Sure,” Rick nods. I head for the kitchen. He follows me and I get a fright when I realize he’s followed me.

“God, are you trying to give me heart attack?”

“No. Sorry. I just thought I could maybe help you.”

It’s just coffee,” Viola says as she brushes past me to the fridge. The kitchen is small and I’m in the way but I prefer to stay. She brushes past me with the milk and I catch her scent a second time. It’s intoxicating. She finishes with the milk and holds it out to me. “Care to put it back?”

“I don’t normally dig in woman’s fridges,” I reply.

She sighs and brushes past me again as she returns the milk to the fridge and I inhale her scent again. Then she stirs the coffee, leaves the teaspoon on the counter and picks up one cup. She motions to the other. “That’s yours,” she says.

I step closer to where my mug is steaming away on the counter. I don’t reach for it though. I’m frozen, looking at her. She’s shorter than me and she’s barefoot which makes her even shorter than me right now. She looks up at me. Her eyes are asking, “What?”

I don’t answer but I drink in her scent and meet her hazel eyes. My eyes take in every feature of her face. Her eyelashes are long and her eyes innocent. Her nose is perfect. A little button nose, perfectly round. Her high cheekbones make her face look longer than it is but even so it’s perfectly proportioned in my opinion. Her lips are full, and just begging to be kissed. I want to kiss them and I remember the first night when I kissed her. I long for that moment again.

She holds my gaze and studies my face too. She swallows nervously.


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