Closely Guarded Secret (5 page)

Since I have no frame of reference for romantic relationships, I stare blankly at him. I take his hand, which is absently twirling the wine glass around by its stem. “I wish there were some words of wisdom I could give you. It’s okay to feel the pain and I know you’re scared. You can’t see it now, but you won’t be in this darkness forever.” The tears that he’s been trying to keep from falling finally break free and roll down his cheeks.

“Eventually, you’ll see the light again.” I understand the irony of my own words after they tumble out of my mouth. They don’t go unnoticed by him either. He raises an eyebrow at me.

Using his napkin, he dabs the corners of his eyes, soaking up the tears. “I know.”

I offer, “Do you think we should go someplace else? I don’t mind. We’ll pay for our drinks and we can go grab a big, greasy burger or pizza somewhere.”

“No, I’d like to eat here. Even if Sampson really doesn’t love me anymore, I have good memories of this place. Unlike most people who can’t eat when something bad happens to them, you know food always seems to bring me comfort.”

“If that’s what you want, then we’ll stay. I know you’re hurting. Your heart is breaking and mine is breaking for you. Maybe we can find something to do this weekend that will take your mind off of it, even if it’s only for a little while?”

“Yeah. Maybe,” he says without conviction. Then he sits up taller in his chair. “Lets order.”

As we eat, Steven wants to talk about my trip to New York. The topic of Bryce eventually rolls around because he wants to know more, as I knew he would, but I quickly deflect and we talk about his upcoming trip to L.A. I’m still processing my thoughts and feelings about being around Bryce, about my reaction to him. I have to figure it out for myself before I can talk about it any more with Steven.

I excuse myself after we order desserts, and on my way back from the restroom, I run into none other than Bryce himself. Here of all places? What are the odds of that happening? I feel like the Pied Piper.

“Ali, hi. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Hmm, funny you should say that. I was thinking the same thing. Are you here with your leggy brunette?” The second I ask, I want nothing more than to reach out, snatch the words and put them right back into my mouth. He looks amused and irritated at the same time.

“Yes, but she’s not mine.” Looking uncomfortable or irritated, not sure which, he nods over towards his table as Mara plasters a fake smile across her face for him, then glares at me as though I’m the Devil and she’s wishing me back to hell. For someone who obviously doesn’t have singular taste, with this particular woman, he looks as though he doesn’t mind too much.

“She made the reservation. We have a few things to talk over and I need to set some things straight with her.” It’s as though he now needs to explain himself to me, which he doesn’t.

I make a mental note to never come to this place if I ever need to ‘clear the air’ or breakup with someone.

He continues, “Are you here on a date?” He looks around to see where I’m sitting.

“No. I’m here with Steven. I should be getting back to the table. They’re bringing our dessert soon.” Why am I explaining myself?

“Well, I’ll let you get back to it then.” He hesitates a moment before he says, “You look beautiful, Ali.” The unscripted words cross the threshold of his lips in a rush.

I momentarily lose my ability to speak but snap myself out of my trance “Thank you.”

Not knowing what else to say, I decide to leave and run into a waiter with a tray full of food. Luckily, he avoids dropping it, but there’s a lot of mumbling under his breath while I apologize profusely. Eyes straight ahead and not looking back, I make a beeline to my table. Bryce is probably laughing at me, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of looking back to see. Will this day ever end?

When I get back, Steven cocks one eyebrow. He witnessed the whole ordeal.

“I think there’s something going on between you two that you’re not telling me.” He sounds hopeful but cautious.

“There’s nothing going on between us. I told you everything that happened. Besides, he’s here with one of his ‘flavors of the month.’” Even I can hear the disdain in my voice. His lips twitch as he conceals a smile.

“He’s definitely interested in you. Especially with that little testosterone fueled introduction today at the airport.”

“How do you know?”

“Oh, honey. Men are men. Gay, straight, it doesn’t matter. We all have one thing in common and one thing that drives us. And from what I see, he wants to be driven and he wants you to shift the gears.”

“I can’t believe you said that.” I attempt to sound disgusted but he knows better.

“I just call it how I see it. I’m sure he would be more than happy to clear out those cobwebs floating around in there.” He waves his hand down toward my lap. “I’ve given you the talk more than once about what men like. You’re more than ready.”

“Steven, you know I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t? There’s a difference. You need to figure that out,” he states firmly.

Part of me sometimes wonders what it would be like to have someone whose arms I could run to; someone to comfort me, encourage me, hold me when I need it most. Maybe after all these years of therapy, I’m ready. Even though Dr. Hunter, Steven and my mother have been encouraging me, I don’t know if I can bring myself to be with someone.

“I used to think I’d never figure it out, but Dr. Hunter helped bring me out of that way of thinking. However, I’m not ready to jump in the deep end. You know better than anyone my reasons. If I jump too soon, I’m afraid that girl I once was will surface and the woman I’ve tried so hard to become will disappear.”

“You have too strong a support system for that to happen. I wish you wouldn’t doubt yourself. You can’t close yourself off from the world forever. You are so tenacious and confident when it comes to your career, why can’t you be that way in other areas of your life? You’ve spent the last ten years working on your emotional baggage. Don’t you think it’s time to clear it all out, set it on the curb for the trash man and move forward?”

“I know this. I’m scared. You have no idea how scared I am. I don’t think I could handle rejection. It would crush me.”

“Ali. I hate to say this, but rejection is part of the process.” His eyes well up with tears because I know we’re no longer talking about me. “Can we drop this now? Let’s enjoy our dessert, then we’ll go to the bar by the house and get smashed.”

“Sounds good to me,” I’m thankful the topic is now closed. Steven needs to get drunk, and after the past couple of days I’ve had, so do I.

While we wait for the valet to bring the car, Bryce and his sidekick Mara walk out of the restaurant. His posture is rigid and he looks uncomfortable.

The silence is thick. Neither Bryce and Mara, nor Steven and I, make conversation. I feel someone is trying to burn a hole right through me. Looking to my side, I see Mara’s obvious hostility toward me. Bryce grabs her hand and tugs it, hard enough for her to become off balance. He looks at me apologetically, but I shrug my shoulders and turn away from him, hopping in Steven’s car without looking back. She seems like one crazy bitch.

Opening one eye, I look at the time: nine-thirty. The sun is blaring through the sheer curtains in my room, making it extremely hot. I’m still in my clothes, but my shoes are off. When did we get home? How did I get in my bed? I have no recollection of anything past midnight. My head is throbbing and I swear someone’s in there mining for diamonds. I force myself up, and after splashing cold water on my face, taking a couple of ibuprofen, and brushing my teeth, I almost feel better.

In the kitchen, Steven is whistling, chipper as anything. I collapse on a chair and hold my head in my hands. “Good morning. How’d you sleep?” he asks, way too cheerful.

“I don’t know. Obviously like the dead since I can’t remember coming home. How did we get home?”

“Well, after your sixth lemon drop shot, plus the Absolut and tonic’s you were downing, I figured I better get you home while you could still reasonably walk on your own.”

“Oh shit. I’m sorry. We were supposed to get drunk together.” The thought of alcohol right now makes me queasy.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it. I had quite a few but I, unlike you, can hold my liquor.”

“You know I don’t usually get drunk and can hold my own. It’s all the stress from traveling. You know how I feel about flying.”

“Yeah, plus Mr. Sex-on-Legs got you all worked up.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

I want to smack him for saying that but I don’t have the energy. “Why are you so chipper?” I want to steer the conversation away from Bryce.

“Oh, no reason,” he sings the words.

“Spill it, what’s going on?”

“Well, after we got home last night and I was able to finally get you to your room and deposit you on your bed, my phone rang. It was Sampson.”

“No. What did he say? What did you say? What did he want?” I ask with cautious excitement.

“Girl, one question at a time. He said he wanted to meet up and talk. He misses me and thinks he made a mistake by letting me go.”

Right then, my heart swells with relief and I’m glad Sampson wanted to open their lines of communication. “I’m so happy, that’s great news.”

“Yeah, it is. Lets go eat. I’m starved.”

#

As I’m folding my last load of clothes and thinking about the last couple of days, I remember I want to talk to Dr. Hunter. It’s getting late and it’s Friday, so he may not be in.

“Dr. Hunter’s office. May I help you?”

“Hi, this is Alixandra Quinn. Is Dr. Hunter available?

“One moment, Ms. Quinn. Let me check.”

While waiting, I wonder why some companies go for Muzak and others classical for their hold music.

“Ms. Quinn, he’s finishing up with a patient now. If this is an emergency, I could interrupt him, or he could call you back in about 15 minutes.”

“No, it’s not an emergency. Please have him call me. Thank you for your help.”

I pace the floor until the phone rings and I hear Dr. Hunter’s voice. “Ali, it’s been a while. How can I help you today?”

“Hi, Dr. Hunter. Thanks for calling me back. I know it’s Friday and it’s late, so I really appreciate your doing this. I need to talk with you about something that’s happening in my life right now. Things were going okay until a couple of days ago.”

“Oh? Well, let’s talk about it,” he says.

“Monday I had to fly to New York for business and my connecting flight was in Houston.”

Silence.

“I tried to remember all the things you had taught me to control my fear, but I had a full blown panic attack. Even talking about it now, my stress level is increasing. Nothing I tried helped. I didn’t know what else to do. I was terrified.”

“If the techniques you tried didn’t work, why didn’t you call me? I’ve always told you, in emergencies I’ll take your call.”

“I know I should have called you, but I couldn’t think straight. I didn’t start to calm down until the plane was leaving Houston. I wear those scars close, and I’ve been forever changed by them.”

“Yes, Ali, you’ve worn them close. You’ll always have the physical scars of your past, but there’s no comfort in carrying the emotional scars around with you. You and only you can decide when it’s time to take charge of these negative emotions and put them behind you. Let me ask you some questions. Was your fear that Thomas was in the airport?”

“Yes,” I choke out. The mention of his name alone is enough to send me into panic mode.

“Was he in the airport?”

“No.”

“Did he or any of his supporters know you were coming through Houston?”

“No, but it brought everything back to the surface. Everything I’ve tried very hard to overcome. Just being back there . . . ” I trail off.

“I know being there was a major trigger for you, but you own all of the tools and techniques to dispel these demons from your life. Is there some reason you’re not using these tools and techniques? Is there a reason you aren’t admitting to yourself, or to me, why you want to hang on to these emotions? How long has it been?”

“Ten years.”

“Ali, do you know the strongest human emotion is love - to love and be loved? Are you using these negative emotions to shield yourself from loving or being loved?”

I gulp and I choke as I think about that. I decide to tell him about my encounter with Bryce. When I finally regain my voice, I say, “There’s something else I want to talk to you about. Something else happened and I am confused about how I feel about it.”

“Oh?”

“I met someone while I was in New York. Actually, he happens to live in San Francisco and was one of the subjects I was photographing.” I go over what happened before the photo shoot.

“Talk about why this confuses you.”

“I’m confused about how I feel when I’m around him. He’s a frustrating, arrogant, self-centered, egotistical man. He can also be a kind, caring, comforting, gentleman.”

“Okay, but I’m still not hearing why this confuses you.”

“When I’m around him, I get flustered. I can’t talk. My brain stops working. I haven’t had these emotions since . . . actually, I’ve never had these emotions.”

“I see. It seems to me what you described is a completely normal reaction of a person who is attracted to another.”

“It is?”

“Do you feel it’s wrong to be attracted to him?”

“Yes. No . . . oh, I don’t know. I get so discombobulated around him. It drives me crazy.”

He lets out a little laugh. “It sounds as if you’ve taken your first step toward discarding the shield we were talking about. This is a big step toward your well being.”

“In New York, he was so . . . ” I tell him what transpired after the photo shoot.

“What I’m hearing you say is he’s obviously attracted to you and you seem to be attracted to him. He sounds like a man who knows what he wants. Now you have to ask yourself what you want.”

“What does that mean? How could he know what he wants after only one meeting?”

“Some men play the field and others go for what they want. He’s intrigued by you, by the sounds of it.”

I tell him how Bryce acted on the flight in contrast to how he acted at the airport, hoping that he’ll see how “Jekyll/Hyde” Bryce is and warn me to stay away.

“He sounds like someone who saw another person in distress and knew she needed help. Can you accept that for what it is?”

“Yes, I can, but it’s like everywhere I turn since I’ve been back, there he is. I don’t want to have anything to do with him,” I say in my most matter-of-fact tone.

“I hear you say the words, but I don’t hear the conviction in your voice. Do you think you’ll see him again?”

At that moment, I remember I’ll see him again at the photo shoot for The Bridge, which reminds me I need to let Jodi know I’ll help with it. “Yes, I’ll see him at a photo shoot for a featured story in our magazine.”

“I would say this is a good thing. It sounds like he challenges you and I think that’s exactly what you need. You’re the only one who can change your outlook and decide to take that first step and open yourself up to the possibility of having an emotional relationship with someone.”

My head is spinning. “I don’t believe a relationship is something he would be interested in. I don’t know what to feel about all of this.”

“Since the strongest emotion is to love and be loved, don’t you think he would have that emotion too?”

I pause and think about this. “I don’t know.” I answer truthfully.

“Why don’t you try believing him? I know trust is a huge issue for you, but you must make it over that first hurdle and this sounds like someone you might take that first step with. He’s there, and he’s obviously attracted to you. Men are simple creatures. As for love, we usually don’t over-think things, or create problems that aren’t there.”

Am I creating a problem that doesn’t exist? I’ve never had a man approach me like he has before or make me feel the way I do when I’m around him. Am I over thinking this? I ask Dr. Hunter, “What if I do give him my trust and he betrays it? What do I do then? I don’t know.”

“That’s just it. You don’t know and you will never know if you don’t at least try.” He continues, “You’re a strong, bright and confident woman who has taken charge of her own life and destiny. What you’re feeling now is normal. What matters is what you want in life and how you handle yourself to get the results you desire.”

“Thank you, Dr. Hunter. I do feel better now. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

“I hope you’ll consider the benefit to yourself of taking this kind of chance.”

“I’ll give it some thought.” Those words scare the hell out of me.

#

It’s a cool, crisp evening, and we have all the windows open to let in the fresh air. Steven and Sampson are going out to dinner to talk since there’ll be fewer distractions that way. I’m looking forward to some quiet time, a good soak in the tub followed by curling up with a good book.

“Okay, Ali, I’m out.” Steven sounds hopeful and anxious.

“You’ll be fine and the two of you’ll work it out. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have called.”

“I hope so. I love him . . . ” He trails off, not needing to finish his sentence.

“I know you do and I hope those are tears of happiness I see in your eyes.”

“They’re tears of many emotions.” It’s as though he’s processing them all at once.

“You better go. You don’t want to be late and have him think you’ve changed your mind.”

“You’re right. Don’t wait up,” he says with a wicked but hopeful tone.