This was supposed to make me feel better, but it didn’t. It made me feel worse. He probably wanted out of this too-close-for-comfort deal as much as I did. But I couldn’t let on that he’d pierced me again. “It’s nothing. I’ll just ask to be reassigned,” I said coolly, praying Professor Oliver would agree. He had office hours tomorrow morning. I’d be lined up outside his door ready to make my request.
Bryan shook his head, and lifted his hand towards me, as if he were about to rest his palm on my leg, or my arm. I inched away. Almost imperceptibly, but enough for him to notice. He clasped his fingers together instead. He parted his lips. Paused. Then, in a low voice that sounded smoky at that volume, he said, “But I’m glad you are. I’m glad it worked out this way.”
I’d spent the last five years juggling classes and making jewelry, building my business and moving past my first big love. The last thing I needed was to be thrust back into the fire. I would only get burned again.
******
I was the first one to leave the classroom. I made a beeline for the ladies room where I busied myself reapplying lip gloss and trying to fluff out my dark brown hair to pass the time. I grabbed an always handy clip and twisted my long hair into a quick updo. I tucked a few loose strands behind my ears.
I looked at the time. Only a few minutes had passed. I brushed off a piece of lint from the short suede boots I’d snagged at a bargain price from a vintage shop in the Village, then readjusted the neckline of the chocolate-colored top I wore that brought out the brown in my eyes.
Another minute gone.
I rooted around in my purse for my mascara, touched up my lashes, then checked the time once more. Satisfied that Bryan had likely left the building, I ventured out. I dialed the number of my parent’s shop as the heels of my boots echoed across the wide hallway. I wanted to talk to my mom, but I also needed to root myself to the realities of my life. My parents, my plans for them, my goals for the business. My mom’s voice alone had the power to ground me and keep me steady.
“Mystic Landing. How may I help you?”
“Hey, Mom.”
“Hey, sweetie,” she said, and dived into her usual million questions. “How are you? How’s school? How’s Jill? How are My Favorite Mistakes?”
“I’m great. School is fine. I’ve never had a better roommate. And I’m working hard on the business. But, how are you? What’s going on with you and Dad and the shop?”
I could picture her waving a hand in the air to make it seem like my question was no big deal. Then sharing a smile as a customer walked into the store. Then again, maybe there weren’t that many customers.
“Everything is just fine. A young woman even came in this morning and tried on one of your necklaces.”
“Awesome. Did she buy it?”
“No, but she said she’d come back tomorrow.”
“So, are you still getting plenty of late summer tourists?”
“Oh sure. Of course,” she said quickly, but I wondered if she was just trying to seem strong for me.
“What have you been up to today?”
“I rearranged some of the window displays.”
My heart sank. That could only mean business was still slow. If there were customers, she wouldn’t be spending her time prettying up the windows. She’d be at the cash register, working the counter, ringing up little sundries and gifts for all the tourists who streamed in.
The very same counter where I was standing five years ago when Bryan asked me out on our first date.
Blinders, Kat. Put your blinders on.
We talked more about her day, then I told my mom I loved her and said goodbye.
As I left the building, I nearly dropped my phone when I saw Bryan waiting for me. The image I had wanted most to see all those months after he left me.
Chapter Three
He was framed by Washington Square Park and late afternoon clouds behind him.
“Fancy meeting you here,” he said as I neared him. His friendly manner made the coil of anger rise perilously close to the surface. But I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he could set off fifty different emotions in me with one look. Impervious would be my new watchword.
“Who would have thought,” I replied, keeping a distance in my tone. I reached for the movie charm, touched it once, as if it brought me power and strength. Nearby, a mime walked an imaginary dog and a grown woman in a Glinda dress created giant bubbles with a wand, to the delight of a few toddlers chasing them.
“So I was thinking,” he said. “What do you say we start over? Just forget the past, and move on, and we’ve got a clean slate. We just met today.”
“Easy for you to say,” I muttered under my breath.
He raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t heard me and I chose not to repeat myself. Crossing my arms, I waited for him to make the next move. So he tipped his forehead to an open bench. “Want to chat for a bit?”
No. I don’t want to chat with you. I don’t want to be near you. I don’t want to let you close to me again in any way, shape or form.
Except, I might have no choice but to be civil with him. I’d do my damndest tomorrow to switch mentors, but if I couldn’t pull it off, then I’d have to be cordial. Sure, a clean slate seemed as good a ruse as anything. I could pretend he’d meant nothing to me. After all, I’d been over him for a long time. Seeing him again had simply stirred old memories, like dust in an unused room. You cough a few times, then leave.