Magnetic (25 page)

“A bloody Mary, please, and give her teeth. I need to feel a bite,” Stacy’s first customer said as he took a seat at the end of the bar.

“Coming right up,” she said with a smile, then winced internally when the same man requested that she change the channel of the TV mounted above her head from ESPN to Fox News. There was no one else at the bar to complain, so she did as asked.

Stacy didn’t care one iota for basketball, but she’d have happily listened to the commentators drone on about the Celtics instead of a perky blonde quote her father on gay rights.
“…one man, one woman.”
The diatribe was old, but what galled her the most was that her father had no real religious convictions one way or the other. He spouted off what he thought his constituents wanted to hear, what he thought would gain him votes. And he’d put all of that above his own daughter.

Her mood was already dour because when she awoke that morning, it wasn’t with an open mind. She wasn’t really sure where things stood with Layne. Perhaps Layne had spent the night thinking and decided that it was too much to ponder. Maybe Layne would take the easy way out and just say,
Enough. This thing between us is just too complicated to bother with.

Stacy set the drink in front of her customer with a forced smile and began wiping down the bar.

“I have a delivery for Stacy
Mayeaux
,” one of the porters said as he walked up to the bar, his face hidden behind a wall of flowers.

“
Mayeaux
?” the customer piped up, “any relation to—”

“Nope,” Stacy said without looking his way as the porter set the arrangement on the bar.

A round male face peeked around it at her. “Somebody
loves
you,” he said with a smile and walked off.

Stacy gave the flowers a sniff and moved them out of the way to the center island and opened the card.

You are wonderful in every sense of the word. No buts
.

Stacy smiled but wasn’t allowed to bask in the moment as a group settled at the bar.

*******

Layne’s heels clacked on the tiled floor as she walked into the lobby of the Sapphire. It was well after the lunch hour, and she was disappointed to find that there were only a few seats at the bar where Stacy worked. Partially hidden by the archway separating the lounge from the lobby, she watched Stacy as she filled drink orders. Muscles contracted in her abdomen as she regarded Stacy, then began to flutter when Stacy gazed in her direction. With a purposeful stride, she walked over to the bar and took a seat.

“Welcome to the Sapphire, what may I get for you?” Stacy said with a smile much warmer than she’d been giving to the other patrons surrounding them.

“How’s your iced tea?”

“It’s good,” Stacy said as she set a coaster on the bar. “You should try the Lebanese iced tea. It has pine nuts in it, very tasty.”

“I’ll have that then and a menu.”

Stacy slid the menu in front of Layne. “Just a moment on your tea.”

Layne nodded and perused the menu as she waited. A few minutes later, Stacy set her drink on the bar. “I’m hungry, but I don’t want to eat heavily because I’m cooking dinner this evening for someone. Can you recommend something besides salad?”

“I’d suggest the veggie spring roll appetizer. They’re filling and light.”

“I’ll go with that, thank you,” Layne said seriously as she handed the menu back to Stacy.

“Will this be to go, or will you be dining in?”

“Dining in.” Layne watched as a few of the patrons left the bar, but there were still too many to talk candidly, and she didn’t want to cause Stacy any problems at work. When Stacy drew close again, Layne lowered her voice and said, “I don’t see a ring on your finger. Does that mean you’re single?”

A woman sitting two stools over looked at Layne with an expression of surprise that quickly turned to indignation.

“I wasn’t talking to you, honey,” Layne said with a wry smile and turned to Stacy with a brow raised.

“No, I’m not married, but I am seeing someone I consider special.” Stacy didn’t crack a smile as she moved farther down the bar to tend to another customer.

The woman beside Layne looked at her with a smirk that Layne met head-on. “She’s hot, can’t blame a girl for trying.” Apparently, the woman could because she took her drink and moved farther down the bar, giving Layne the privacy she wanted. But the game played on as Stacy delivered her lunch and cutlery.

“Is there anything else I can get for you besides more tea?”

“I’m fine.” Layne spread her napkin across her lap. “Has anyone ever told you that you bear a striking resemblance to—”

“Ass,” Stacy said lowly with a chuckle.

“Dinner’s at seven. Will you be there?” Layne whispered.

“Yes, I will,” Stacy said with a smile. “The flowers are beautiful.”

When Layne had finished her lunch, she softly demanded her bill, then made a fuss about the tea being four dollars. She could tell that Stacy wanted to laugh. Layne put her money in the folder along with a house key and slid it in front of Stacy. “This isn’t a roping, just a little something to let you know I’m not playing around, either.” Layne looked back over her shoulder as she walked out. The expression on Stacy’s face was worth a million bucks.

Layne found herself vacillating again between the desire to let go and allow things to take their course with Stacy and her need to have everything in order, under her control. This courtship, or whatever they were engaged in, was unorthodox. To Layne, the progression was out of order. There were no dates; rather this thing between them had taken on an intimacy of evening meals, late-night stays—some overnight—and a domestication that usually came after months of being together. Layne had just given Stacy her house key without considering what that actually meant, and what freaked her out the most was she liked it.

*******

During dinner that evening, the conversation was light. Layne and Stacy discussed their day and Layne’s upcoming trip. Stacy volunteered to take care of the yard and water the plants while Layne was gone. But as they sat on the deck enjoying the evening, Stacy pulled Layne’s house key from her pocket.

“I’m not sure what this means,” Stacy said, holding it up.

“That makes two of us,” Layne said honestly. “I felt terrible about how things ended last night. What you did for me was extremely kind and I loved it.” Layne sighed as she looked over the yard. “I think that’s what scared me. We’re not sharing financial responsibilities or living under the same roof, but it feels like it sometimes. It’s like we’re already in a committed relationship, and we don’t really know each other. But as I said before, the odd thing is I feel like we do.”

“It would be very easy to change that. We could take a step back, start going out on dinner dates, go to the movies like everybody else does.”

“My need for organization screams that that is exactly what we should be doing, but…I enjoy this, and I keep asking myself what’s so wrong with it.” Layne reached over and took Stacy’s hand. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you seem so much more at ease with it than I do, and that throws me, too.”

“When you preface something by saying, ‘don’t take this the wrong way,’ the person hearing it almost always does,” Stacy said with a smile. “I do get where you’re coming from, though. We didn’t start off typically, so our relationship isn’t going to be typical, either. But if it’s working, why buck?”

Layne squeezed Stacy’s hand. “You teach me how to relax and I’ll teach you…nothing,” she said with a smile. “I like you just the way you are. Hold on to that key, you’ll need it to check on my plants.” Layne swallowed hard. “Just hold on to it for if…”

Stacy returned it to her pocket. “You’re telling me that you trust me. That’s all this is, and that’s fine with me.”

Layne smiled and nodded.

Chapter 28

Layne’s heart was heavy as she boarded the plane to Seattle. She actually looked forward to Alana joining her, wanting the connection to Stacy. The warm body she’d left that morning felt so cuddly and soft that she could barely force herself out of bed.

They stopped talking about the future, and Layne did her best to just throw caution to the wind and enjoy things as they unfolded. They spent every night making love like they’d never see each other again. They’d taken walks, watched a movie or two. And Stacy had introduced Layne to her neighbors, Deb and Bob.

Layne had gotten a few emails from Ronnie, who said she was happy that things were working out with Stacy, and Layne knew it would be a while before they saw each other in person. It wasn’t out of the norm for Ronnie to disappear, but it was for different reasons this time, and that still stung Layne a bit. She’d also talked to Jenny on the phone one day during lunch, and Jenny explained that she’d been working on Molly, who still was hanging on to her resentment for Stacy like a dog would a bone. That too stung Layne, but Jenny assured her that it wouldn’t last forever.

“You’ve stolen my cook.” Alana did her best to keep a straight face as she glared at Layne. “I used to have a meal when I got home, but now it’s hot nothing.”

“I’d like to say I’m sorry, but that would be a lie.” Layne grinned at Alana as she dropped into her seat. “Get a ticket this morning?”

“No, it was raining, and I guess the doughnut Gestapo didn’t want to get wet. Are you rested and focused this time?”

“No,” Layne said with a grin as she remembered what she and Stacy had done the night before.

Alana stared at her for a moment. “You look different. All of the years we’ve worked together you’ve had a determined and fierce look in your eyes. It’s not there. You look happy, Layne, and I know Stacy is. She hasn’t painted a stroke since that first night we got back from Seattle. Stacy paints away her pain.”

“I’ve never seen any of her work.”

“She’ll show you when she’s ready. Her older stuff is beautiful—lots of landscapes, some of Anna, all warm colors. The stuff she’s done over the past few years is dark, even yours.”

“Mine?” Layne asked in alarm.

“Shit,” Alana mumbled and looked at the rest of the boarders. “Did you eat breakfast? Do you have anything in your bag? I am freaking starved. I’ve gotten used to Stacy doing all the shopping, my pantry is bare.”

Layne squeezed Alana’s arm. “Mine?”

Alana sighed. “I figured she’d have shown it to you or at least told you about it by now. She’s private about her painting. I think you should wait and let her reveal it when she’s ready.”

“It’s dark?”

“Sad, you look sad,” Alana said impatiently. “She started on it the day after she arrived in New Orleans. I’d gone into her room one day to do something I can’t remember, and I kind of peeked at it. Of course, you didn’t have a face then. After we got back from Seattle, it was done, and yes, I sneaked back into her room when she wasn’t there. Honestly, that’s how I’ve gotten a look at her work because she’s not keen with even me looking at it.”

“Is she good?”

Alana smiled and looked at Layne. “Amazing. Her talent in that arena is not a
Mayeaux
trait. She got that solely from her mother. Colleen was a master, God rest her soul. She died when Stacy was twelve.”

“How?” Layne asked, feeling sorry for Stacy, who’d lost two very important women in her life.

“Brain aneurysm.” Alana snapped her fingers. “Took her just like that. She was my favorite aunt.” Alana looked away. “Coffee, my kingdom for a cup of coffee.”

Layne handed her the mocha latte she’d boarded with. “It’s got my germs on it, but you’re welcome to it if you dare.”

“I dare,” Alana said as she took a long swallow. “Thanks.”