His expression immediately became closed-off, almost as though he hadn’t given his girlfriend a single thought until just now. “What about Elle?”
She refused to look away, to lose her nerve at such a critical moment, and blurted out impulsively, “Would she be out of the picture? Would you – leave her?”
He shut his eyes, whether it was to concentrate or because he didn’t have the guts to look at her a second longer. “Lauren,” he pleaded. “That should have nothing to do with it. You need to hear the truth no matter what.”
Hear heart felt like it was being smashed into a million tiny pieces – something she had once vowed would never happen again. And yet here she was, willingly setting herself up for some of the worst pain she’d ever known for a second time.
“Just answer the question, Ben. Yes or no. If I – forgive you, tell you that I understand why you left, does that mean we’d be back together? That Elle wouldn’t be a part of your life any longer?”
Ben slowly opened his eyes, and the sadness and regret she read in them brought an unwelcome shimmer of tears to her eyes. “No,” he replied hoarsely. “That’s not what it would mean. I couldn’t just do something like that, wouldn’t - ”
Lauren held up a hand. “That’s enough then. And pretty much what I figured you’d say. So thanks but no thanks, Ben. Under the circumstances I’m better off not knowing your reasons. You’ve obviously moved on, and so have I, so let’s just leave it at that, okay?”
“Lauren. Don’t.” He reached out a hand to her but she scuttled away as though he was a poisonous snake.
“I’ve got to go,” she mumbled, unwilling to stay here with him a second longer, horribly afraid she’d do something undignified like cry. Or beg. Worse. “After all, I’ve got a trip to Utah to get ready for, don’t I?”
She didn’t look back as she left, closing the door as she did so – both literally and figuratively – on Ben Rafferty.
Chapter Fourteen
Late September – San Francisco
“I look ridiculous. This is way too much makeup. And I swear I’m going to break an ankle in these shoes. I’m warning you, Jules – you’re going to have great big ugly bunions in less than five years if you keep wearing these things.”
Julia sighed. “Can’t you just deal with it for one night? You look amazing, Lauren, and there is no way I’m letting you wear jeans and boots tonight. I want to have a fancy dinner party, and you’ll stick out like a sore thumb if you don’t cooperate. Tell you what. We’ll ask Nathan what he thinks.”
Lauren made a rude noise. “Gee, let me guess. I’d say the way he constantly drools over your tight skirts and stilettos means that he’ll approve. And tell me again why you’re so fixated on having this be a dress-up party. Why couldn’t we just order in some good Chinese food and a few six packs of imported beer?”
Julia shuddered delicately. “First, because your idea and mine of “good” Chinese food would be worlds apart. Second, you know I don’t drink beer. Neither do Travis or Anton. And I can’t say for sure about Ian but I’d be shocked if he did. Wait until you meet him, Lauren. I swear if I hadn’t met Nathan first, I’d be making a serious move on Ian.”
“Does Nathan know about this?” teased Lauren. “How much is it worth to keep your secret? Like, maybe swapping out these heels for some flats?”
Julia shook her head. “No way. Especially since I don’t own any flats. At least none that I’d ever allow you to wear with that dress. And Nathan would never take you seriously. He knows I’m crazy about him. Now hold on. You’ve already smudged your eyeliner. Stop rubbing your eye or I’ll smack you.”
“I’d like to see you try,” challenged Lauren, but she stood obediently still while her sister grabbed an eyeliner pencil – she figured Julia had a couple of dozen of them – and went to work repairing her makeup.
She’d allowed herself to be talked into attending this dinner party at her sister’s flat during a weak moment. These past few weeks had been rough ones for her, and she was looking forward to hanging out with her sister and their best friend Angela for a few days. Not that being with Angie was going to do a damned thing to cheer her up, given the deep depression her girlhood friend had sunk into over the past few years. But maybe focusing on someone else’s sorrow, and trying to cheer them up, would help her to forget her own problems.
Problems. Lauren scoffed at the very idea. Normally, she simply did not allow herself to have problems. All her life she’d been able to bully, argue, bluff, or charm her way out of anything that could have remotely been perceived as a problem. She had a near-perfect life, should have been happy and content with the way it had all turned out.
Except that she hadn’t been truly happy for more than five years now. And any sense of contentment she might have known had disappeared the moment Ben Rafferty had unexpectedly re-entered her life almost a year ago.
After that awful scene in his office several weeks ago, she’d gone out of her way to avoid him. During the trip to Utah – which had actually been more enjoyable that she had expected – she’d relied on the other members of her temporary crew to check in with headquarters. And since her assignment in Utah had ended a full week before her regular crew’s trip to Brazil, she had flown directly to San Francisco a few days ago. She had arranged to participate in the planning session for their next assignment via video chat, and for once Ben hadn’t argued the point. Thankfully, she had a longer than normal break coming up, and wouldn’t have to see Ben the Bastard until early November. And maybe by then she’d stop hurting all over, as though she had tumbled down the side of a cliff and ripped her flesh to shreds while breaking every bone in her body at the same time.
“Hey, are you okay?”
Lauren gave herself a little shake, forcing herself out of the funk she tended to slip into all too frequently these days.
“I’m fine,” she assured Julia, squeezing her sister’s hand reassuringly. “Except that my feet already hurt in these stupid shoes, and I look like a clown with all of this makeup.”
Julia slid an arm around her twin’s waist and urged her to look at their reflections in the full length mirror mounted to the inside door of the bedroom closet. “Do I look like a clown?”
Lauren studied her sister’s gorgeous, perfectly made up face – the big green eyes expertly shadowed and lined; the high, sculpted cheekbones emphasized with a discreet application of blusher; her full lips glossed over in a bold shade of red.
“No,” replied Lauren a bit sullenly.
Julia gave her a little squeeze. “Well, considering that you and I look exactly the same – and since I’m wearing more makeup than you are – then if I don’t look like a clown you can’t possibly look that way, either.”
“Fine.” Lauren threw up her hands in surrender. “We both look hot. Maybe we should try to fool Nathan, make him think I’m you. Remember how we almost fooled Sam once?”
“It was this close to working, and then you had to ruin it all by laughing,” recalled Julia. “But you won’t be able to fool Nathan so easily. He, ah, knows me a little more intimately than Sam ever did, and, well - ”
“Yeah, yeah. TMI, sis,” warned Lauren. “Now, if you’ve finished dressing me up like a Barbie doll, I could really use a drink.”
Julia laughed. “You look much hotter than any Barbie doll I ever had. And why do my things always look better on you than they do on me?”
The sisters were the same height, and had almost identical builds, though Julia carried about five extra pounds and was softer and curvier than the leanly muscled Lauren. And while Lauren did have some nice things of her own – dresses, skirts, silk blouses, heels – she kept most of that stuff at Aunt Maddy’s apartment. Julia had wrinkled her nose in distaste when she’d seen the contents of Lauren’s duffle bag, all of it casual and far more suited to the rock climbing and white water rafting she’d done in Utah than attending a fancy dinner party.