—To the comeback kid in all of us.—
*
Hair blow-dried into submission. Check. Gold, smoky eyes; baby pink lips. Check.
Sascha stared at the two piles of clothes on the bed. The first one was too casual for a dinner with the boss and co-workers; the second, too professional for the night of dancing to follow. She had to hurry; Liya would be here soon. The white belted jacket could work with dark jeans. She rushed into the back of the closet and pulled the pair with the trouser cut. They did something they hadn't done since she'd Ben & Jerried her way through the months before and after the breakup: They fit!
"You look good," she told her reflection, loosening her curling-iron curls into a bombshell waves. Better yet, she felt it. Mama's advice on dressing your best when you felt your worst worked yet again; the rigors of her fifty-hour workweek lightened. Her cell phone belted out Alex's ring tone as if he'd sensed her mandate to have fun tonight. She muted the volume and threw her makeup back into the cosmetics bag. The home phone rang as she cleared the bed. She buzzed Liya in and hurried to get her bedroom back in order.
Liya's dark eyes lit up when she opened the door. "Hi—oh, look at you!" Sascha beamed. A compliment from a woman as gorgeous as Liya Bekele was a huge ego boost. "I think someone in F and B is going to approve." Her British accent made the statement sound like a royal decree. Despite vowing to play down her interest, she warmed at the veiled reference to Stavros Dimitriou. Liya was the only one at the office who suspected she had a tiny crush on him.
"Thanks—come in, come in!"
Liya presented a small Godiva bag. "A little token of appreciation."
With Sascha's place within walking distance of the hotel, changing there had spared her a drive across town. Tonight she could fully enjoy herself at the club since Sascha would cover tomorrow's wedding.
Sascha eyed the bag with longing. "Oh, you're evil."
"There isn't enough in there to do any damage, I promise."
"Your place is fab, by the way," Liya said, amazed. Maybe because the space had a bohemian kitsch in contrast to the professional she knew Sascha to be. Her home was a mix of beiges, hits of daffodil yellow and deliberately mismatched patterns.
"My best-friend Ana is a designer and she helped me decorate," she said as she gave her a tour.
The eight-hundred square foot apartment was her fresh start—albeit different from the one she planned. Thankfully, the ghost of Sascha and Alex didn't haunt this space; even the bed was new. Her best memories were of the weekends with Ana and their almost nightly pajama parties during the short time she stayed here before moving to California.
Liya was still fidgeting with the bow on her tangerine dress when they rushed out the door forty minutes later.
"I bet the Ogre would love it if we showed up late just to have something else to complain about."
"Balty's not that bad. You'll see that tonight," Sascha reassured her.
Since their hotel manager Gavin Balthazar only tolerated excellence, criticism was always a daily staff meeting away. But every quarter he'd apologize for his reign of terror and acknowledge the very achievements everyone thought he overlooked. Liya hadn't seen that side of him during her seven weeks as the meeting services' wedding coordinator so while everyone called him Balty, Liya had invented a nickname of her own.
"No, he has it in for me."
"Corporate's been busting his butt about the sales figures is what it is plus he gets held to a higher standard because of his father."
The slow, heavy thud of boots grew louder as she spoke. Sascha recognized their pitch and cadence as if they belonged on her personal soundtrack and tapped the already lit-up down button. She'd heard those boots stomp pass her doorway many a Saturday night while she lay in bed reading. On the nights he didn't come in alone, she kept still while her ears strained to catch an encore of the sound show she'd heard months back.
Like most people, Sascha harbored her own dirty secrets behind her ordinary-neighbor façade —two actually. One had started innocently when even as a little girl, she'd been drawn to the naughtiness of seeing and hearing things deemed off limits.
"You girls heading out for a night on the town?" His voice had a boom to it, like distant thunder yet every word was crisp, his American accent vague.
"We have to get through an office party first," Liya answered.
Sascha dropped her keys into her red hand-sized clutch and turned to look straight up into Noah Jameson's unusual green eyes. He always watched her as though he knew she couldn't control her awareness of him. She fidgeted with the strands of hair on her shoulder to remind herself that she hadn't transformed into the bleary-eyed mess he'd seen months ago.
It took her a moment to say hello because she was processing the fact that his blond-brown waves were gone—buzzed off. Not that it changed him much. He was still unfairly good-looking. His new beard made him appear rugged instead of regular. Only the front panels of his red plaid shirt were tucked into his faded jeans. That he never seemed preoccupied with his looks added to the injustice of it all and robbed her of a valid reason to remain indifferent about him.
He grinned as his gaze skipped from Liya to Sascha. Its conspiratorial nature should have made the smile she offered him more authentic. "Kind of an oxymoron, isn't it?"
"Precisely!" said Liya as if they'd become part of a friendly circle. He extended his hand to make it official, introducing himself with an unexpected chivalry Sascha noticed since the weekend she moved in.
She'd stepped off the elevator, balancing two boxes stacked high in her arms when an offer of help came. "An angel must've sent you," she'd told the stranger from behind her cardboard wall when he lifted the top box. Then she saw his face and realized her words hadn't been that far off target, leaving her, well, self-conscious if only for a second. And that was saying something because back then nothing roused any sort of opinion, interest nor emotion in her. Nothing except Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough and Chunky Monkey...and Alex.
The elevator chimed and they all shuffled in while chatting about which clubs had the best music and which crowds were overly pretentious. Sascha's gaze paused several times on Noah's face. She'd gotten so used to seeing him with waves of unfussy hair near his collar that the buzz-cut's visual impact remained strong. That, and the fact it made his features more obvious. The straight lines of his light brown brows set off the downward slant of his deep set eyes. Eyes that were preoccupied with the six-foot plus Ethiopian stunner between them. Who could blame him?
He would have noticed Liya due to her choice in shoes: stilettos. They were a bold selection given her height, and that kind of confidence held an allure far more seductive than physical beauty. But the combo made for an incredible package.
He asked questions and listened while Liya told him about London's nightlife. Her classic looks and chic accent made Sascha feel ordinary while Noah's interest rendered her invisible. Suddenly, she reverted back to the lanky teen who'd watched her mom's gorgeous-and-curvy gene skip her in favor of her kid sister, Sage. Back then being the 'cute one' seemed like a poor consolation prize until she realized that cute girls didn't have to deal with beauty envy the way women like Liya had to. But every once in a while she longed to trade her second-place sash for the actual crown.
The elevator door flew open but she reacted a second too slow, still caught up in her thoughts. Noah's eyes whispered "gotcha". Whenever they crossed paths, he made her wish she could tack on an additional four to six weeks between sightings. Things might have been different if the weight of her residual embarrassment didn't press down on her every time. Knowing the sounds he made when he came didn't help matters.
"After you." Her ears caught the smug undercurrent in his tone. God, he was sly in a sneaky manner difficult to point out to other people. It was as if they shared a private language, only she wasn't sure if it was all in her head.
"You girls have fun tonight—nice meeting you, Liya," he said before he headed to towards the front entrance where a car waited.
