Relative Design

She wore the elegant black dress they chose, with the sweetheart neckline and high waist. It was lace, something she’d initially frowned at—she wore too much lace—with a pale cream silk the backdrop of the lace. The slip matched the color of her skin so well, it made her seem bare under the detailed filigree. She had to admit she felt sexy in it.

Her smoky eye shadow made the pale blue of her eyes stand out, the touch of mascara adding emphasis to the dark lashes, the dark eyebrows.

She’d skipped the use of her straightener, letting her hair tumble over her shoulders however it wanted to.

When she stepped out of the door, Adam remembered her the way she’d been that summer, couldn’t help but compare the then to the now. Besides the adult features, she was nearly the same. That same confident strut, the same quiet grace, the same long, long legs.

He took her arm, led her to the car and held open the door for her, watched her lips curve as she climbed in the car. “You look great.”

“Thanks, so do you,” she said, smiling again as he shut her door and watched as he went around the car. He did look good in the black suit that looked like it’d be tailored specifically for him. She wondered if it had been.

“What did you decide? Dinner, drinks, or both?” he asked, turning in his seat to give her his full attention.

“Oh, uhm…” She glanced at the time, wondered what she was supposed to say here.

“I was thinking dinner,” he supplied.

“That sounds perfect. Did you have a place in mind?”

“A couple, unless there’s someplace you specifically wanted to go to?”

“No, I’m okay with anything,” she said, brushing her hair away from her face.

“Great. Italian okay?”

“Better than.” She glanced at him again. “So, do you… do you still have your bike?”

He laughed, nodding. “I do. Should I have brought that instead?”

“Oh, no, I was just wondering. The two times I’ve seen you before now, you were wearing suits both times. I kind of remember you more as a denim kind of guy.”

“I still am, when I get to be. I’m just a suit kind of guy too, now.”

“I noticed. You work in the city.”

“I do.”

“I didn’t expect that.”

“I didn’t either, honestly. I thought I’d be with the band a little longer, but… things don’t always work out the way you’d expect them to.”

“Did… what happened?”

“I had to quit. Prioritize, like I said. The rest of them are still together, touring and making music and stuff.”

“Do you keep in touch with them?”

“I do. We’re all still very good friends.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “Do you still get recognized as that guy from that band?”

He grinned. “Eloquent. Not really, no. Not anymore.”

“Do you miss it?”

“I miss the music of it. Creating it, being a part of it, all that. It’s not something I can’t live without though. I always knew I’d be giving it up someday.”

“How’d you know that?”

“Long story.” He smiled, trying to brush it off. “Anyway, I have some questions of my own.”

“Like what?”

“The other day, when I asked you if you were still at your old place, you said for now. You planning on leaving?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, Eliza and Will need their privacy, you know? And I have no intentions of mooching, I just needed a place until I find something of my own.”

“Who’s Will?”

“Oh, right. Sorry,” she said bashfully, blushing. “Will’s Eliza’s husband. I was just planning on staying in a hotel but Eliza wouldn’t let me.”

“A hotel?” he repeated, wondering how she knew that he was aware of her time in London

She laughed, shaking her head. “I keep forgetting you don’t know details.”

“You don’t have to go into them, if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ve been in Europe these last few years.”

He hesitated, and his curiosity won. “Since Eliza got married?”

“Before then. So it wasn’t really an issue all this time. Then I got this job offer here and… I missed being home, so I took it. A bit impulsively, really. It’s because of that that I had no place to go when I got here.”

“Well, you had Eliza’s.”

“Yeah, of course. But I had no intention of staying there, you know?”

“So you’re looking for a place?”

“Yeah. Somewhere in the city, if possible, so I can be closer to work. I wouldn’t mind Queens either, really. Public transportation’s a little more convenient there.”

“How’s your commute from here?”

“Awful. Living in Long Island, working in the city, it’s a hassle.”

“And you take the bus or subway to work?”

“Yeah, I don’t like having to deal with parking.”

Parking? He glanced at her. “You drive?”

“I learned while I was in Europe.”

At the light, he turned to stare at her. “Does that mean you can drive a stick?”

She stretched out comfortably, pointed her toes. She looked… smug. “As a matter of fact.”

He could worship the woman. “I adore you.”

“I bet. Light’s green.”

She’d always had a way with disarming a man. “Right. Thanks. Have you driven since you got here?”

“Once or twice. My brother, Eric, has a ’72 Ferrari Dino Spyder he let me drive.”

“You must’ve loved that.”

“I did. They fixed her up together. Him and Beckett, I mean. I think Eliza may have passed them a wrench or something, just to claim she helped.”

“How do you figure that?”

She shrugged. “It’s what I would’ve done. Besides, that way I could also claim that having helped, I deserved to drive every now and again.”

He laughed, unable to help being charmed by her. “Of course you would. How are they, your siblings?”

“They’re doing well, all three of them. Beckett’s been checking up on me.” She frowned, not having intended to share that. “Uh, I mean—”

“What makes you think he’s been checking up on you?” Adam asked, not bothering to let her finish with her excuse.

“I just do. Any—”

“Anabel,” he glanced at her with humor in his eyes. “It’s bugging you; you might as well spill.”

“He came by the house Saturday night. Eliza and Will had gone for a movie. He was supposed to join them. Instead he was stopping by the house to say hi to me. I’m sure that’s not what he had in mind when he’d started heading over, but that’s what it had been—a check in to see how or what I was doing.”

“What were you doing?”

She shrugged. “Just some errands and stuff. Things I hadn’t gotten around to in the week I’d been back.”

“How long have you been back home?”

“Just over two weeks. Actually it’ll be two weeks exactly tomorrow.”

“Impressive.”

What was, she wondered, that she was making things work so soon after being back or that she was here, with him, after only two weeks? “Thanks. But, uh, what about you? What’s new with you? Besides the whole band thing, I mean?”

He laughed, wondered if she’d always been so awkward. She hadn’t been, he remembered suddenly. She’d be confident, bordering on arrogant. And she still was, to some extent. She still had that air around her, the one that made her nearly unapproachable. “I don’t know, not much, really.”

“How are… uhm, your friends? Zoe says Chris is well.”

“He is. You still talk to Zo?”

Zo? “Yeah. She was actually the one to pick me up from the airport.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you’d kept in touch.” He was a pathological liar. “But yeah, Chris is doing well. And so is everyone else, for the most part.” She gave him her attention as he told her about his friends, so invested she didn’t realize they’d arrived.

The restaurant he took her to was in midtown, somewhere on ninth. Upper class, she noted as they stepped in the dimly lit room, candles on every table. He had class, she had to admit.

“So, I’ve never been here, but I’ve heard good things.” He glanced around. “I didn’t realize it was so… stuffy.”

And he had a sense of humor. She laughed with him as she took the menu he offered. “It’s perfectly alright. The ambiance is lovely.”

“Does that help make up for the…” It wouldn’t do him any good to finish that with ‘old rich people.’ “Uh, the crowd?”

“The crowd is fine, Adam. Honestly.”

“Okay,” he said simply, opening the menu. “You said it, though.”

*

“So, are you still at your old place?” Anabel asked suggestively, her fingers tapping against her bare knee.

He told her he was, acknowledged the suggestion and made the turn to get on the bridge going back to Queens. He wanted to take her back to his place, and resisting the urge to do it was possibly one of the hardest things he’d ever done. But he knew if he took her back to his place, it would be a repeat of what had happened the last time with them. It would be simple, casual.

He wasn’t sure he wanted that this time around.

He didn’t know what kind of man that made him, but it probably wasn’t a normal one.

They ended up at a dessert shop.

“What’s this?” Anabel asked, peering out the window.

“Dessert. Interested?”

“I could be.” She had just gotten out when he reached her, lightly taking her arm and shutting her door for her.

She grinned with pure delight when they entered, eyeing the treats offered. “Oh! Can I get a tiramisu?”

“Sweetheart, looking like that, I doubt a man’s ever told you no.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him, a small smile playing on her lips. “Could be.”

“A tiramisu, then. Why don’t you get us a seat?”

“Thanks.”

He watched her go, his mind still on the pleasure he’d seen in her eyes. Had she always been so easy to please? It was enough to distract him from watching her leave, though some part of him still appreciated the view.

When he came back, she was standing by a table of men, looking as uncomfortable as possible. He handed her the plate of tiramisu, placed his now free hand on her back.

She smiled at him, looking much more relieved than she was aware of. “Hi.”

“Hey.”

“Uhm.” She glanced at the table. “These are some guys I knew from high school.”

He fixed a slightly aloof smile on his lips. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” one of them said, the one directly across from him. “Nice watch.”

Anabel made the faintest sound of distress and Adam slid his arm from her back around her waist, pulled her to him, before glancing down at his wrist.

“Thanks. If you’ll excuse us.”

“Nice seeing you again,” Anabel said, her poker face back in place as she led Adam away.

“Care to fill me in?” he murmured, putting his plate down beside hers. One of the guys, the one sitting at the corner of the table, was still watching them.

“People I used to know. I used to date one of them.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“The one in the corner?”

She met his gaze. “How’d you know?”

“He’s still watching us.” He turned as she grimaced so her ex was no longer in his peripherals.

“I didn’t expect to see him, or if I did, for him to remember. I barely do. It didn’t end well.”

He’d figured as much, seeing the blind fury in his features. He cupped her elbow before she could sit. “Why didn’t it end well?”

“He was a jerk. He didn’t like that I was able to walk. That I did walk.”

“Well, then. Just go with it, for a minute, would you?”

“With w—”

She didn’t remember what a good kisser he’d been. Technique counter for plenty, but her own chemical reaction to him... She definitely didn’t remember his moves either. The way he just slid her against him, fitted her perfectly against his body, or the way he’d slide her into the kiss while she still fought to keep up. She melted against him and was glad that he held her, since she didn’t know if she could do it on her own. When he playfully bit her lower lip, she forced a breathy laugh even as the muscles in her stomach clenched as she pulled away. “That was just an excuse to kiss me.”

“Maybe.” He pressed his lips to hers again, lightly now, before releasing her. “Dessert?”

She didn’t want anything that wasn’t him, but she sat and reached for the spoon he offered. He pulled it away, kissing her again.

“What was that for?”

“I thought I should try that again, just because I wanted to that time.”

“That was just another excuse to kiss me.”

“Maybe.” He grinned impishly when she lightly nudged him and turned to her plate. “Worth it.”

*

“Will? Eliza?” Anabel called, standing at the second floor landing and peering down the stairs. When no one answered, she grinned, hopping up on the banister and sliding all the way down it. At the end, she jumped off, landing perfectly.

“I’d give that a ten,” Zoe said, sipping the tea she held.

“9.8,” Eliza said, holding out a cup of coffee for Anabel, “just because. Coffee’s the way you like it.”

“Thanks. What’s going on here?”

“We were waiting for you to wake up so you could tell us all about the hot sex you had last night,” Zoe said, leading the way to the kitchen where there were all kinds of breakfast food waiting for them.

“I didn’t, actually,” she murmured, sniffing at the bagels. What was that? “Have hot sex last night, I mean. Or any other kind of sex, for that matter. What kind of bagel is this?”

“Sundried tomato. What?” Zoe asked simply, while Eliza coughed in surprise.

“Who the hell eats this crap?”

“I got at least one of everything. Can you shut up about the bagels now?”

“Right.” She sipped her coffee as she turned to face them, leaning against the counter. “We didn’t have sex. We went to an Italian restaurant then we went for dessert. He walked me to the door, kissed me good night, and left after I got inside.”

“And he didn’t… you didn’t—what?” Eliza asked, baffled.

She sighed, frowning now. Damn it, she was trying not to think about it.

The good night kiss he’d given her still stirred her blood when she thought about it. But he’d only kissed her then nudged her inside, so smoothly she barely registered what was happening until she was already inside.

“What don’t you get?”

Eliza and Zoe exchanged a look, eyebrows raised. Yeah, she definitely hadn’t gotten any.

“What happened? Did you not want…?”

“I did,” she admitted, sighing and picking up a wheat bagel. “I guess he didn’t. I don’t know. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Oh, Anabel,” Eliza said, going to her sister and resting a hand on her shoulder. “Talking will help.”

“It’s embarrassing. I hinted at… you know, and he’s either too stupid to realize that—which I don’t believe for a second—or he wasn’t interested. And isn’t that embarrassing?”

“You’re being an idiot,” Zoe said simply, shaking her head. “He wouldn’t have suggested this if he weren’t interested.”

“But he—”

“I’m not going to pretend to know why he didn’t sleep with you, but he is interested.”

“You can’t know that.”

“But I do. And I can find out,” she said suddenly, the idea all but hitting her in the face. “I could ask Chris.”

“He’s not going to tell you.”

“You keep thinking that.” She smiled thinly, lifting her mug to her lips. “A girl can do a lot to make a guy talk. Or she could not do a lot.”

“Couch?” Eliza asked knowingly.

“Of course.”

Anabel shook her head. “My life has reached a new level of pathetic.”

It hadn’t, exactly. It took her until Monday to realize that, but it was heading there, at least the personal aspect of her life was.

Professionally, she couldn’t be more satisfied. That morning itself she had landed herself a brand new client who should, she glanced at the clock, be heading to her office right about now for her first consult.

She looked up at the knock on her door, smiling at the frazzled woman she saw standing there. “Hello.”

“Hi, Anabel. I’m Christine. Your two o’clock? Sorry I’m late.”

“Oh, of course. It’s no problem at all.” She stood, held out a hand. “How are you today? Would you like something to drink?” She looked like she could use it, her short hair the color of burnt honey messily styled, her eyes tired.

“No, thank you. Uhm. What…?”

Anabel gestured to the seat across from her as she sat. “I understand I’ll be designing a studio apartment for you?”

“Yes, please. It’s a tiny space and I’ll be working from home. I need something that’s relaxing and lets me think without being… you know?”

She didn’t. “Absolutely. The space has a lot of potential, and the lines of it are just wonderful. I was thinking we could do the walls a light yellow. Very pale, almost crème but not quite. Like this.” She pointed at the color card on a corner of her desk.

“Oh, that’s nice.”

“Great. Now did you bring the pictures I’d asked for?”

She pulled several out of her large bag and silently handed them over.

“Okay, so this is this area,” she said almost to herself, comparing the photograph to the blue print. She pulled out the floor plan, spread it over her desk. “If it’s to your liking, we could have this set as a dinning area here, your living room here, and the bedroom on the other side of the wall from that.”

“That sounds nice.”

Hearing the disinterest in her voice, Anabel nodded and swirled away from her desk, grabbing the rolled up paper she’d left behind her for an emergency. She’d had a feeling “Christine” would be difficult to work with. “This here’s a mood board. It’ll give you an idea of the ambiance I’m hoping for. Much of the furniture you’ll see here is what I have in mind for you.”

Her eyes simply lit up at the pictures she saw, all stuck on paper the same color as the walls Anabel had said she’d wanted for the walls. The black iron chandelier, the round table to match it, the area rug for the living room with the square pattern… it was homely, charming. Warm.

Christine wanted little more than that from her home.

“It’s simply perfect. I love the things you’ve picked out.”

“Going by what you told me you were hoping for over the phone, I assumed this would cater to your style.”

“You really are as good as they say. I can’t wait to see it all in person.”

“I’ll show you the rest of the furniture and once you’re happy, I’ll start placing orders.”

“None of my friends have places like this. This is just great.”

Anabel only smiled and readied herself.

When Christine left an hour and a half later, she was one satisfied woman. Anabel was simply exhausted. She pulled out her phone, checking her personal emails and missed calls, text messages. She saved those for last, seeing she had a text from Adam.

After work drinks?

She stared at the screen, her pale pink fingernails tapping against the dark wood of her desk. She couldn’t help but be a little embarrassed by the casual way he’d dismissed her over the weekend. Seeing him again meant facing that.

Can’t tonight. Busy.

She hated herself just a little as she tucked her phone in the drawer of her desk.