His Perfect Woman (Urban Hearts Series Book 1) (13 page)

They’d packed up the next morning and gone to an inn, spending the rest of the weekend in a fluffy goose-down double bed.  

Lost in the memories of a younger carefree couple, she didn’t remember leaving the terrace, their Irish coffee’s half-finished and growing cold.

The hotel bed was a king size, not a double—and firm, not goose-down, but Jonathan’s body was just as lean and taut as it had been six years earlier. He hovered over her in his usual methodical way. His lips were dry as they kissed her breasts. She had always loved his hands, and they were just the same, slightly rough, strong but gentle as they coaxed her into flowering for him. He was the same man she’d married, but she’d changed—into a woman he no longer understood.
Jonathan waited for her breathing to slow again to normal, his smooth skin warm against her, the tickling of pubic hair at her thighs, his hardness heavy and prominent. Azure’s eyes flickered open and he moved slowly into her as though she were breakable, like a valuable piece of Wedgewood china shelved in his mother’s breakfront.  But she couldn’t tell him she wasn’t that precious or inanimate–that she wanted to be loved as a woman, not an object d’art. She simply moved with him until he gasped into her shoulder, fingers gripping, back arching. As his spasms pulsed with the beat of his heart, she tried to remember if she’d taken her damned birth control pill.

“It’s been a while.” Jonathan murmured as he tucked her into his side, warm and comfortable.

A press of her lips against his arm was her only answer.  It had been awhile, and it was good. It was just like always and yet the ever pressing emptiness that surrounded her was closing in and she wanted him to turn and kiss her—quell the uneasiness that was bubbling up. She wanted him to talk, to say what he was thinking that very moment, to get inside his head and feel some connection, some tether to his world. A turn in his arms, she twisted to face him, wanting him to feel her. Waiting, she felt her heartbeat slow, matching his. She pulled back and in the darkness, heard his soft breathing lapse into sleep mode. She studied his closed eyes, his cheekbones angular in the once romantic moonlight.  And she was alone. Again.

The next day they’d fought over some stupid remark that she didn’t remember. For Jonathan, it was as though they were back to normal. One night of love making apparently having made up for endless nights of her sleeping on the couch after another argument. She’d been angry at him for assuming that’s all there was to it. Maybe it was—for him.

Within a week of coming back from Vail, they both slipped into their same pattern of bickering, alternating with long draughts of not talking and then to make matters worse, his company laid off several employees, Jonathan being one of them. He dealt with the issue by blaming her and essentially all Americans for screwing up the economy. He was bitter and her nerves were shot. She found solace in her work, breathing a sigh of relief every time she went through the security line at the airport.

She placed a hand against the cold window, turning away from the white world of St. Paul. Azure finished her drink, thought about another and decided against it. Forty minutes to kill before Ross would be back, and she thought about taking a shower. Even that felt like too intimate of an activity. It was difficult to believe she was here, in his room, waiting for him to come to her. After all, she’d broken things off with Ross several times, yet she always came back, like he was some sort of magnetic element she was drawn to. The lack of resolve was foreign to her, and she hated the weakness of it.  She got up and poured another whiskey—just a small one.

Her phone buzzed with a text and a picture—Eli with his happy grin under a stocking cap. Jonathan had made good on his promise to take him sledding at the park—a last chance before the snows melted.  Dear sweet Eli who loved his father fiercely. He’d been so delighted that his daddy got to stay home with him more. A kindergartner didn’t care about lost jobs and forgotten dreams of his parents. And why should he? It was her job to make his dreams possible.

Ross had said something that resonated with her during one of his lectures: that to chart solely for your own happiness wasn’t necessarily selfish, but it did have consequences. Could she weather those consequences? Could she take that away simply because she wanted a different life? With someone else? Not like this, she couldn’t.

She sat in the wing chair in the empty hotel room, tears streaking her face, screwing up her artfully applied mascara. She wasn’t sure who she was crying for, Ross or Jonathan. More than likely it was for herself—feeling ultimately sorry because she knew what she had to do.

Azure drained her glass and got up. She washed her face in the bathroom. As she stood there, his leather toiletry bag was open to her view. There were the basic items: miniature mouthwash, deodorant, after-shave, a razor, a tube of hair gel. She touched the bag, fingers running lightly over the items inside. The toothpaste tube, its end flattened, not squished in the middle like hers, provided a base for the almost new toothbrush angled across it. She ran a fingertip along the handle of his toothbrush and allowed herself a moment of wondering what life would be like with Ross. They could work together. She’d quit the corporate life and become a wedding planner—do something more creative and fun. Chicago would be a transition, but it was full of exciting things they could do. Did they sail on Lake Michigan? She didn’t know. Eli would like Ross—she just felt it.

The thought faded almost as soon as it came to her. Because Eli deserved a father—his father, didn’t he? The scent of Ross’s after shave lingered on the hand towel re-hung neatly on the towel bar. She breathed it in for the last time.

              Finding a pen and hotel stationary, she finally scratched out the trembling and guilty words across the paper:
I couldn’t stay, you know why. Please understand how hard this is, moving on. I don’t think we should talk for awhile.
She called the airlines and changed her ticket to that evening. She had intended to stay that night, and now she couldn’t go through with it. She and Jonathan may not make it, but regardless, she had to be there mentally and emotionally for Eli.

The flower arrangements for the wedding of the century made Ross sneeze. Finally, one of the bridesmaids—a wide faced girl with flat ironed hair and a designer handbag—gave him two extra strength antihistamines. He quit sneezing, his eyes felt less like sandpaper, but one glass of white wine gave him a buzz. This turned out to be excellent as he was seated at a huge round table with eight people he didn’t know and didn’t want to. 

His other table mates were Dani and Jack and Sienna. He’d been surprised to see Jack there, but it turned out that Sienna and Chad were second cousins, which gave Jack an invitation to the biggest social event of the year that neither man cared about.

Their table was conveniently located next to the band which allowed for no conversation at all. Jack and Ross had perfected a sign language they used in college across crowded bars and they used it now to signal
let’s get real drink
s. After the third song, they both moved away in favor of the open bar.

“I feel like I’m in a sequel to
Wedding Crashers
.” Jack said. “Do we know anyone at this shindig?”

“We know the bride and groom, or at least I do. I feel like been here for years, I’ve heard so much about it.”

“At least they have decency to provide an open bar. And top shelf.” Jack beamed.

“Here’s to people with money.” Ross held up his glass.

Jack touched it with his own.

“Speaking of money, how’s the book coming?” Jack asked.

“It’s not a book yet, just an idea.” Ross answered. He’d been thinking of writing a book as early as January. Az had mentioned he should put all his workshop topics and ideas into a self-help book. He’d laughed at the time, but the thought had stayed with him and he’d mentioned it to Jack. Now, of course, Jack wouldn’t let it go. 

A thin, elegantly coifed woman made her way toward them and Jack ordered a champagne cocktail for her. She smiled and kissed his cheek.

“I figured I’d find you two here,” Sienna Isaacson said.

“I know it’s so much more elegant to have a live band, but the AARP rockers are getting on my last nerve. I can’t hear myself think over there.” Jack frowned.

“Oh honey, don’t you know? You’re not supposed to think or talk, you’re just supposed to stare at the beautiful happy couple.” Sienna smiled and sipped at her cocktail, the very essence of politeness. 

Both men laughed and Jack looked at his wife in some sort of secret fond communication.  The three of them were quiet as they watched the crowd. Dani was in her element, flitting between tables, chatting with guests she didn’t know, but wanted to.

“Dani mentioned her agent. That’s a big deal. You must be proud of her.” Jack said, but there was a hint of concern in his tone.

Ross nodded. He was proud of Dani, but her recent success had brought up the old idea of moving out of Chicago. This time, it was Hollywood. She wanted to pursue acting

“Your girl looks lovely, Ross. Dani always does though.” Sienna followed Ross’s gaze.

“Yes, she does. Just don’t ask about the bridesmaids’ dresses. You’ll hear way more than you want to.”

Some intricate light design had incorporated the couple’s initials: S and C on the high ceiling. Twenty foot palm trees, their skinny trunks looped in blue lights, lined the main hall. Birds of Paradise and other exotic flora were gathered in huge ceramic pots around the ballroom. 

Eventually, Jack and Sienna took to the dance floor and Ross wandered his way back to the half occupied table. Dani was still absent. He spotted her dancing with two of the bridesmaids.

He nodded to the coffee server and watched him pour java into his cup. One of the women across the table lifted her cup in silent salute. He returned it. He had no idea who she was. His tablemates had only gotten some perfunctory introductions in before the band started up on something they called beach music. Thinking that there was only so much Beach Boys music that existed in the world, Ross was astounded at how many numbers the band came up with. Song after identical beat song about girls, and beaches and cars and sunshine played endlessly. His head started to throb along with the 2/4 time.  His mind wandered to another time, another noisy room.

A month earlier, he’d had to shout to be heard over the music invading his conference room in the Minneapolis hotel. An anniversary party in the next room had music seeping through the walls. He’d  rushed through his class, even if it blew his chances at another one like it. The thought of Azure waiting for him upstairs distracted him. His mind had kept a vision of her spread across the sheets of the king size bed as he laid out marketing strategies. The clock wound down and as he said good bye to his participants, Under the Boardwalk by the Drifters became a theme. Ben E. King sang “down by the see-ee-ee” in his head as he rode the elevator up to the hotel suite.  Save for her glass of melted ice by the window, a folded note perched beside it, the room was devoid of her presence. The elegant suite felt hollow and barren without her. He glimpsed at the duvet cover they’d thrown back, the indent on the bed from their bodies. He picked up the note and ran his thumb over his name written in her slanted print. 

I couldn’t stay, you know why
.
Please understand how hard this is, moving on.  I don’t think we should talk for a while.

His calls had gone straight to voice mail. Downstairs, in the main hall of vendors, he’d found no booth for Conway Titensor. Someone told him they’d closed up early and headed for the airport. They’d wanted to get a head of the outgoing flights, because of the weather.  

When he got home, he’d ignored Azure’s second plea for time and called her cell a few times, okay maybe seventeen times, and left a few short messages, make that eleven somewhat lengthy messages. This time, there was no response. Ever. The lack of a return call twisted his heart inside his chest till he couldn’t breathe. Gradually, the void subsided and he returned to his old life. He’d gotten royally drunk with Jack, wallowed in his sympathies and then went back to work like there was nothing else. Dani, for all her distraction, had sensed something broken in him and had made an effort to pull him back into their lives. For the last six weeks, he’d moved through his life like a zombie, feeling dead but still walking.

Now he was here, listening to some fifty year old beach boy sing Under the Boardwalk.

“Hey.” Dani pulled out her chair and moved in close so she could hear him.

“Hey.” He looked up. She did look stunning in the midnight blue dress. “They came around with coffee, but yours is probably cold.”

“I don’t want any. Let’s dance.” She pulled him up. He protested, but allowed himself to bounce after her onto the floor and they found a corner where the music faded. The Drifter’s song melded into Lovin Spoonful and he was grateful for the change to a ballad. Dani flowed into Ross’s arms like she’d always been there and he’d failed to notice. Her upswept hair smelled like orange flavored lacquer. He turned his face away and pressed against her temple. In her heels, she came up to his nose. They fit together well, but he couldn’t help but feel she should be more petite. She sighed against him and he pulled her in close.

At the end of the song, drinks in hand, they wandered upstairs and found an alcove that overlooked the hall. Blue lights from the palm trees cast a frosty glow over the floor. A long brushed velvet bench hugged the wall invitingly. 

“I’m so glad this is done.” Dani leaned against his shoulder.

“Really? This is all you’ve talked about for like two months now.”

“Yes, because Sandy’s been at me non-stop for three months. The flowers, the table settings, the linens, the dresses, the hair accessories, the stupid band.”

“The band really is stupid.”

“And loud.” She giggled.

“Yes.” They fell into quiet for a moment, watching people dance below them.

“Look, I’m sorry I’ve been so preoccupied the last few months. I know you haven’t been happy.” Dani shifted so that she was looking at him.

“It’s a big deal getting married. Lots to do.” Ross said.

“If you’re Sandy and Chad, yes there is.”

“So you’re saying you wouldn’t like a wedding just like this? Come on. You love the drama, the dresses.”

“The dress, yes, her dress is to die for, but all this? It’s just too much work.”

“I remember your mom watching all those wedding shows on TV, both of you.”

Dani said nothing and he let it drop. He didn’t want to fight. There wasn’t much point in it anymore. She pulled at the hem of her dress, smoothing it out over her legs.

“I was going to wait until we got home for this conversation but,”

“Yeah?” he said absently. He spotted Jack and Sienna dancing. They danced well together.

“Simon’s been talking a lot lately about Hollywood. He thinks I have a good chance of booking some work if I was there.”

Simon Lee-something was the agent she’d signed with. Ross remembered her excitement and had tried to sum up some enthusiasm for her big break, but he felt like such an outsider in her world. It was the world of Simon Says and he was never very good at that game.

“You can always travel for work.”

“You can too you know.”

“I do, I do travel, all the time.”

“So, it shouldn’t matter where we live, then. But I can’t very well fly out for auditions.”

Ross sighed.  He did not want to move. Yet, she had a point. She’d stayed here because he’d wanted her to. He’d had the job at Vanguarde and his whole family here. She would have done better in New York and they both knew it.

“Can we talk about this later?” Ross said tiredly. His glass was empty and he wanted to head back to the bar again. Or home, or anywhere really. Just not here, on this bench, having this conversation. When had he gotten so tired?

“We could, but we won’t. You know that. We’ll move on and you’re hoping I will just forget all about it, and life will go on like normal.”

“I have a lot on my mind right now.”

“Really? Like what? Her?”

Ross stood up. “Leave her out of this.” He strode off, down the stairs and pushed his way to the bar. In the past year, he’d spoken of Azure, but he’d always kept his words and tone professional. That she was a professional colleague and nothing more. Perhaps he wasn’t as good at hiding his feelings as he thought he was. He was nursing his second shot of Jameson when she caught up with him.

“Look, I don’t want to fight.” he said.

“I don’t either. But I’m not sure where I stand here.” She ordered another glass of wine and they moved away from the throng of people.

“There’s nothing going on,” he sighed. “She was a friend, that’s all, and nothing happened. Nothing will happen.”

When Dani spoke again, it was not about his confession. It was though they lived on two parallel tracks, paths never crossing, hers eventually pulling away from his without so much as a backward glance.

“Simon knows a realtor who can show me some places. Nice, but cheap and not too far from some of the bigger studios. He says there’s a great acting school there. I’ve got some money saved.”

“You’re moving to California,” he said dully.

“I was hoping it would be us. That we’re moving to California. After next week’s audition, I was going to look at a few places.”

Simon says—move to Hollywood. Simon says—rent a house. Simon says—stand on your head. She’d probably stay with Simon too.

“I’d like you to go too. But, if I stay here, we both know-” Dani’s words trailed off before he interrupted her.

“Your career is important, I get that, but—”

“This could be a whole beginning and I think we need that.  We could start over.”

What could he say? That he’d tried to start over and it failed? A part of him wanted to tell her how his heart was breaking, that his plans went to hell. Maybe he could get back to something normal. But he still wanted the secret of Azure, tucked away somewhere safe. Also, he didn’t want to hurt Dani.

“Are you proposing?” he grinned in spite of himself.

She blushed. “No it’s just that, we’ve talked about it, and it seemed like we were really close at one time, and then we—”

“Lost it?” He offered up the word.

“Yes.” She sounded grateful that he’d said it. She was right. They had lost whatever they’d had in the beginning. He wondered if it was too late to get it back.

“I think maybe that’s my fault. And you deserve better.”

“I do.” She smiled. The bride and groom approached them and once again, plans that started to form never quite coalesced in his mind. He wanted to will them into formation, line them up into whatever steps he needed to take. Instead, as he stood there listening to Chad whine about having to take more wedding photos, his motivation dissolved into compliance.

Azure

It wasn’t just the right thing, it was the only thing. It was the only thing she could do. After her note left behind on a crisp clean pillowcase in Minnesota, they didn’t talk. Text messages beeped in increasing desperation went unanswered, exotic flowers arriving at her office were given away. She deleted voicemails without listening to them. It was the only way to survive. Eventually, the communication stopped. They were both moving on. They had to.