feel better,” he admitted and I had to sit down on my bed so my legs wouldn’t give out from underneath me.
My mind tried to process what he had just said. Me leaving on Sunday had hurt him. I found that so incredibly hard to believe. Yet Cole wasn’t one to say things he didn’t mean.
I had hurt him. He cared about me.
Those shiny possibilities danced in front of my eyes again.
Damn him!
Cole cleared his throat. “Uh, so tell me about your job. Please tell me it involves you in some high heels and a pole.” His voice became husky and I had to chuckle, relieved that he had taken some of the edge off the serious turn of our conversation.
“No, Cole. There’s no stripping involved,” I said. It was amazing how seamlessly we could move from being angry to teasing and comfortable. This had always been the ease of being with Cole. While he didn’t profess to be the love poetry and watch The Notebook with you kind of guy, you knew what to expect from him.
Most of the time.
Though the tender comments and personal admissions left me totally unbalanced and I found that I needed this side of Cole that I was familiar with. I didn’t have time to think about the other side he was starting to show me in bits and pieces.
“Damn. Because I would have flown back just so I could be your most devoted customer,” he quipped.
“Well, I think I’d like more out of my life then to dangle off a pole while guys shoved bills down my G-string.”
“Yeah, you’re too smart for that shit. Besides the only stripping you’ll be doing is for me,” Cole announced firmly. And here was that odd subtext again.
“I’m going to be the Events Coordinator at The Claremont Center,” I added quickly, brushing off my discomfort.
“That place that has the opera and shit?” Cole asked.
“Yep, that’s the place.”
“So you’ll be an opera singer?” he asked and I could hear the grin in his voice.
“Ha, ha. No, dumbass. People hire the hall out for special events. I’ll help coordinate those. As well as charity events and fundraisers.” I buttoned up my blouse and did a quick turn in the mirror. I looked good. Professional but classy. I hit the speaker button and set my phone down on my dresser so I could wrap my hair into a bun at the back of my head.
“That sounds awesome, Viv,” Cole said sincerely. Was that genuine interest I detected? No, couldn’t be.
“Uh, yeah,” was all I could say.
“You’ll kick ass, Viv. You always do.” Since when did Cole designate himself my personal cheerleader?
It was disconcerting to say the least.
“Thanks,” I replied shortly.
“I should let you go. I’m sure you’ve got all of that girlie crap to do. I just wanted to call and hear your voice and to say, I uh, I hope I see you soon. Maybe you could fly out for another show. I could pay for your ticket. It’s just better when you’re around.”
It sounded as though the admission were strangling him.
I leaned my forehead against the mirror and closed my eyes. He made it so easy to forget the ugly stuff he did. He made it so easy to want to be with him for real. For keeps.
“Cole,” I began and then I heard something that brought the reality of who he was and who we were to each other crashing into my chest.
“Hurry up, Cole! I need to go to the bathroom!” a female voice whined in the background.
“You asshole,” I couldn’t stop myself from saying.
“What?” he asked, sounding bewildered.
“It sounds like you need to go and I have to get to work.” I tried to control my temper. I needed to. I was tired of giving him the reaction he was looking for.
“It’s not what you think, Viv. Don’t start being a bitch before you know what’s going on,” he snarled.
He did not just call me a bitch!
“Look, some of us have commitments to keep. Not that you’d know anything about that!” I spat out.
“Is that what all of this has been about? Commitment? Because we’ve talked about this, Vivian, you