“Dean’s not picking you up?”
“It’s not a date Bridge,” I said, looking at her through the mirror as I curled a stray hair behind my ear. “I said I’d meet him and his friends at the club. That way it sets clear boundaries.”
“Which are?”
I turned to look at her. “That this is not a date. Not even close.”
“At least let me drive you,” she said, but as she moved to get off the couch she burst into a rapid fire of sneezing.
“Are you kidding me? You rest. I’m calling a cab and then fixing you one of Grandma Pearl’s cold elixirs while I wait.”
Twenty minutes after mixing my cousin a hot toddy of tea, honey, lemon, ginger, cloves and a good shot of whiskey, I was in a cab heading into town.
Dean was waiting for me outside the club when the cab pulled up. He looked handsome and wore a bright smile but I had to force myself to be happy to see him. It felt like the wrong guy was waiting for me, and the thought instantly left me deflated. I shouldn’t want it to be Heath waiting for me. But I did. And once I realized that, I immediately regretted coming out. The urge to ring Heath was palpable. Yes I hated him right now. But a part of me was desperate for contact.
“You look gorgeous,” Dean greeted me, helping me out of the cab. When he didn’t stand back I had to brush up against him, my body flush with his as I stood up. I knew it was deliberate and it made me feel awkward.
“Thanks,” I said looking past his shoulders for his friends. There was a long line of people waiting to get inside the club but no one seemed to be waiting for him. “Are your friends inside the club already?”
He grimaced. “Unfortunately they pulled out. Last minute family emergency.”
“Oh no. Would you like to postpone and make it another night?” I asked, a little too eagerly.
“Are you kidding?” He grinned, putting his arm around me and steering me towards the entrance of the club. “This is opening night and I’ve got free tickets. Plus, you look too beautiful to be sitting at home alone.”
He nodded at the intimidating bouncer who let us past the line-up and into the club. It was dim inside, with soft lighting along the walls. I stopped just inside the door and looked at him.
“Just so we’re clear, this isn’t a date. Okay?”
He smiled but his eyes were busy scouring the club. “So you keep saying,” he said, and then nodded towards the bar, which was aglow in pink light. “How about I get us a drink, and you can tell me all about it.”
* * * * *
HEATH
I waited for the front door to open, impatiently tapping my foot. I was anxious to speak to Harlow and to tell her I was sorry. I’d been a jerk. No. An asshole. And it would take a lot of groveling from me to make up for treating her so badly.
When her cousin Bridget opened the door her eyes dropped the brightly-colored mix of flowers in my hand.
“Heath…?” She was surprised to see me. And she looked terrible. Like she was unwell.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“No. I’m dying of the flu,” she mumbled nasally. “What are you doing here?”
“Is Harlow home?”
“No, she’s out.”
“Where?” I hated the desperate edge to my voice.
She eyed me suspiciously. Obviously Harlow had filled her in on what an asswipe I’d been this last week.
Cocking her head slightly to the side, she eyeballed me, and then sighed. “What are you doing Heath?”
Her question caught me off guard but the way she said it was kind and sympathetic. I exhaled deeply.
“Fucking things up by the looks of it,” I said regretfully. “She’s out with Dean, isn’t she?”
Bridget nodded but opened the door wider. “And if you want to fix this, then you’d better come inside.”
* * * * *
I had met Bridget when she’d started working at The Palace a year earlier. Back then we’d been playing there at least once a week. It was just before our debut album was released. But I’d never gotten to know her well. I didn’t remember hitting on her, but seeing how attractive she was, I probably I had. She was very similar in looks to her cousin, with her large green eyes and long dark hair, but while Bridget was very attractive, Harlow was outright beautiful.
Unfortunately, Bridget had known me long enough to see my behavior at its worst. She’d seen all the girls I’d been with and the crazy things I’d done so it was kind of a surprise she had even let me near Harlow. Although I’m sure she would have warned her about me. It was going to be hard to convince her that I wasn’t as bad as she imagined. Although standing across from her as she put the flowers into a vase, I could feel her empathy. Even if I didn’t deserve it, I appreciated it.
“Are you in love with Harlow?” she asked matter-of-factly.
“Yes.”
I didn’t need to think about my response but I wondered what she would think about the admission. Would she approve? Would she think I was good enough for Harlow?
I thought she might laugh but she didn’t. She just nodded as she arranged the flowers in the vase and carried them over to where I was sitting. Placing them on the table in front of us she sat down opposite me and fixed me with dark eyes.
“If you love her, Heath, why are you pushing her away? Why have you ignored her all week?”
I shook my head at my own stupidity. “Because I’m an idiot.”
“She thinks you played her.”
“I didn’t,” I said quickly. “I’d never do anything like that to her.”
“Then, what’s with the vanishing act?”
I thought for a moment. I thought of how Harlow had become my everything and how it terrified me. Of how I didn’t think I deserved her. That I’d spent so long being the bad guy, I wasn’t sure I knew how to be the good guy.
When I’d kissed her it had felt so right and so wrong at the same time. Because I thought she deserved better. But at the end of the day the terror of losing her was worse than any feelings of inadequacy I felt. I would rather spend a lifetime of feeling inadequate than the misery of living without her.
“Because she doesn’t want me,” I said quietly. “And rightfully so, because I could live a million fucking years and never be good enough for her.”
“You’re wrong, Heath. Don’t sell yourself so short.” A small smile curled at Bridget’s lips. “She may not know it. You may not know it. But that girl is a hundred and fifty percent crazy in love with you.”
My eyes shot to hers. “What do you mean? She’s leaving in a few—”
“Pfft!” Bridget waved off my comment. “One word from you and that girl isn’t going anywhere.”
Her words shot some well-needed heat into my heart. Somewhere in the back of my mind I felt the warmth of sunshine and all that gooey stuff you heard about when people described what it was like to be in love.
Was it possible I had a chance with her?
“You really think so?” I didn’t care how pathetic I sounded.
She nodded and smiled.
“I do. So you’d better go and tell her exactly how you feel before this gets any more complicated than what the two of you have already made it.”
* * * * *
HARLOW
The night was going from bad to worse. As the club filled with people and we had less and less room to move, Dean made every opportunity to stand close and touch me. At one point he even started to rub his fingers up and down my arm as we waited at the bar for a drink.
To get away from his hands-on approach to our evening, I escaped to the bathroom and sat in the cubicle, desperately trying to come up with an exit strategy. I would need to remind him that this wasn’t a date … but how many times did I have to do that?
I was desperate to ring Heath. To ask him to pick me up. To ask him to be my friend again.
God I was pathetic.
Back in the bar the night went from bad to worse, as the alcohol he consumed took effect and Dean became more and more handsy.
When I reproached him, he would flash that million-dollar smile and throw his hands up in jest like it was all a big joke.