Dying Forever (Waking Forever Book 3) (14 page)

“Alison? I thought that was you.” Annabel Putnam was standing next to Alison and Julia’s table. She was wearing a flowing navy blue cotton skirt and a tight pale blue t-shirt that accentuated her slim build. Her long black hair hung loose over her shoulders.

“Oh, hi, Annabel. This is my sister Julia. Julia, this is Dr. Annabel Putnam - a colleague.” Alison’s hopes of escape were fading as Julia smiled up at the professor while offering her a seat.

“We were just going to have des
sert, but please join us. I love meeting friends of Alison’s.” Sales person Julia had just kicked in.

“Oh
, I can’t. I’m meeting someone for a late lunch, and I try to avoid dessert, given the empty calories.” Annabel casually scanned the restaurant for her date.

Alison smirked. Even outside of work, Annabel had a way of jabbing at someone without seeming any the wiser for it. She could see from her sister’s expression
that Julia was not impressed. “I’m happy to report I can spare an empty calorie here or there.” Julia’s smile was forced and taut.

Annabel looked down at Julia and smiled. “Good for you.” She then turned her attention to an amused Alison. “Do you have classes this afternoon?”

Alison nodded, noting the frown on her sister’s face out of the corner of her eye. “Yes. Just one, and then I am heading home for a quiet evening in.”

“Have you been out a lot lately?” The woman asked casually.

“I wouldn’t say a lot, but-” Alison wasn’t sure where the conversation was headed and waited for Annabel’s obligatory insult.

“Perhaps with that student of yours, what was her name again?” Just then, the woman looked up and a broad smile spread across her lips. “Excuse me, I see my lunch date.” Not waiting for a response from Julia or Alison, the woman walked toward a blonde woman in her early thirties sitting at a table near the back of the restaurant.

“I hope you two aren’t friends.” Julia whispered as the waiter returned with Alison’s coffee.

“No. Just
colleagues.” Alison had a knot in her stomach that had nothing to do with her hangover. She couldn’t imagine why Annabel would have even remembered their brief exchange about Bryce nearly four weeks ago, much less referenced it now.

“She was rude.” Julia handed the waiter her desert menu. “I’ll skip de
ssert. Can you please bring the check?”

Alison took a sip of her coffee and leaned back in her chair. She hoped Julia hadn’t caught Annabel’s reference to Bryce, and they could forgo a continuation of an already uncomfortable lunch.

“So who’s the student
rudeness
was referencing?” Julia pulled her Platinum American Express card out of her gray Miu Miu wallet.

“I’m not sure.” In spite of her best efforts, Alison couldn’t hold eye contact with her sister long enough to execute an
effective lie.

Julia paused, her hand hovering an inch above the table, the American Express card pinched between her thumb and forefinger. “Do you sometimes
wish you could lie better, Ali?”

Nearly spitting her coffee out, Alison wiped at her mouth with the white linen napkin. “
What? I mean it; I don’t know what she was talking about.”

“God. Terrible effort
, Ali, terrible.” Julia sat back in her chair and crossed her legs. “This explains your lack of interest in my candidates.”

“No
, Jules, your candidates are crap, and I would run screaming regardless of my relationship status.” Alison slid the half empty coffee cup toward the center of the table and laid her credit card down next to Julia’s.

“You have a relationship status?” Julia smirked at her younger sister.

“Now who’s rude?” Alison jabbed.

“Suit yourself. God knows I have enough going on without babysitting your love life.” The waiter picked the check and credit cards up as Alison literally bit her tongue.

Several awkward minutes later Julia was signing her credit card receipt and gathering her cell phone and purse. “This was fun.”

Alison couldn’t tell if her sister was being ironic, but was afraid th
is debacle of a meal might actually constitute a good time in Julia’s mind, and that was the worst part of the entire lunch. “It was nice to see you, Jules. Take care.” Alison leaned across the table and gave the woman a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Absolutely
, Ali, and good luck with that student.” Julia pulled her Range Rover keys out of her purse, a faint smile on her face.

Alison took a deep breath. “Lovely
, Jules. Bye.” Without looking back, she left her amused sister, and one of the worst lunches of her life, behind.

Chapter
7

Alison had been staring at herself in the rectangle shaped mirror in her bathroom for nearly two minutes. She hated how nervous she was. She was a successful professor at a respected university. Grant you, she hadn’t been on
hundreds
of dates, but she had managed her fair share over the years.

Now, with the prospect of an evening
with Bryce - not even an actual date - she felt like she was twelve again, waiting for Samuel Mercer and his mom to pick her up for the school dance.

Taking her lime green colored toothbrush from
the white ceramic jar, Alison picked up the tube of Colgate and squeezed the white paste liberally on the brush’s head. Vigorously brushing along her teeth and gum line, she then stuck her tongue out and brushed back and forth for several seconds.

She turned the tap on, rinsed
the toothbrush, and put it back in its holder, before tossing the used string of floss into the metal trashcan next to her bathroom sink. Cupping her hands under the cool water, she brought it to her mouth and rinsed. She thought her brother would be pleased that she had flossed in addition to brushing and made a mental note to call and check in with him the following day.

Looking back in the mirror, Alison managed a weak smile.
It’s now or never.

Her
blonde hair looked stylishly messy, and she managed to find a suitable outfit on her first try. The evening was casual, so she wore a pair of Ralph Lauren tapered jeans, brown leather flats, and a short sleeve gray t-shirt. She had contemplated a white lace bra and matching panties, but thought better of it, and went with a plain , light blue cotton bra and underwear.
No reason to get your hopes up.

Knowing she had delayed as long as possible, and not wanting to be late, Alison grabbed her wallet, keys
, and phone from the round wooden table next to the front door. Locking the door behind her, she walked to her car.

Bryce’s street consisted of apartments that at one time had been private residences. The houses had been built on large lots near the southern most part of Alamo Heights and were on average fifty years old. Some were run down, but Bryce lived in one of the newer
apartments that had clearly been renovated within the past ten years. In fact, her apartment building was eye-catching, with its fresh white paint, black trim, modern windows, and lighting fixtures.

Alison maneuvered her Honda into a narrow parking space across the street from
the duplex. She loathed parallel parking, and luckily, given San Antonio’s penchant for urban sprawl, she had very few occasions in which she had to utilize the underdeveloped skill.

Taking her phone from the center console, Alison felt her stomach twist slightly with nerves. This was the first time she had been to Bryce’s apartment, and she wanted the evenin
g to go smoothly. The relationship wasn’t developing as quickly, and certainly not as smoothly, as Alison had hoped, but any time with the beautiful redhead was time well spent.

Unlocking her door, Alison glanced over her shoulder to make sure no
cars were coming up the street before getting out of her car. She then crossed the street, and walked through a narrow breezeway. Alison followed the small brass plaques engraved with a range of apartment numbers.

Arriving at apartment number three, Alison took a steading breath and knocked. A few seconds later Bryce opened the door. She was wearing a pair of
slim fit Gap khaki shorts that hit just above her knees, a light blue cap sleeve Ann Taylor blouse that fit her like a glove, and her hair cascaded loosely around her shoulders.

“You made it.” Bryce smiled as she stepped to the side so Alison could walk in.

Alison wondered if the woman ever had a bad hair day. “Drove here like I knew where I was going.” Stepping past Bryce, the familiar citrus and vanilla scent wafted over Alison, and she willed herself not to take a deeper breath.

Bryce shut the door and stood looking
awkwardly at Alison. “I - ah - guess a tour is in order, so if you do a slow three sixty, that will about cover it.” The woman made a circular motion with her index finger.

Alison chuckled and turned around. The apartment was a small efficiency
with a half wall dividing the living and bedroom area from the narrow, galley kitchen. It was sparsely decorated with a thirty inch flat screen television sitting atop a small oak cabinet, a dark blue Chesterfield style sofa, and a round-end table that matched the television cabinet. She assumed the door to the left of the kitchen was the bathroom.

The floor was a distressed
light maple, with coordinated maple trim throughout the space. The walls were smooth and painted light beige. “I like the color, and the floor is gorgeous.”

Bryce walked around Alison and into the kitchen. “The
leasing agent called it champagne beige, and evidently, the color in the bathroom is what they call Dresden blue.” The woman shook her head. “Whatever that means.”

Alison crossed the small space and leaned on the half wall. “It means someone in the marketing department was feeling creative that day.”

Bryce nodded. “It wouldn’t occur to me to name paint after a city in Germany.” Opening the cabinet to her right, the woman looked at Alison. “Would you like something to drink before we go out? I have Bushmill or red wine.”

“Considering our last outing - and the fact I don’t want to completely humiliate myself at the bowling alley -
I’ll stick with wine.” An embarrassed flush spread across Alison’s cheeks at the memory of her untimely intoxication a few days prior.

Bryce frowned. “It wasn’t a big deal.” She retrieved a cork screw from a nearby drawer.

“It never is to the sober one.” Alison teased as she turned around to more fully inspect the apartment. “Sleeper sofa?”

A faint pop sounded as Bryce removed the cork from a bottle of Excelsior Cabernet
Sauvignon. “What?”

Alison looked back at Bryce. “No bed. I assume the sofa folds out
?” She wondered why she had chosen to talk about the woman’s bed within five minutes of arriving.

“
Yes.” Bryce poured a generous glass of wine and handed it to Alison. “Feel free to have a seat.”

Alison walked to the sofa and sat down. Crossing her legs, she scanned the space. The walls were bare, but in the corner opposite
the couch there were over fifty books stacked neatly against the wall and piles of magazines. “Do much reading?” She asked as Bryce joined her on the sofa, a glass of wine in her hand.

“I enjoy a good book.” Tucking her leg under her, she sat on the opposite end of the sofa from Alison.

Getting up, and placing her glass of wine on the short, round oak end table, Alison knelt down next to the stacks of books. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.” Her eyes scanned the small library. “I’m impressed.
To Kill a Mockingbird
,
Gone with the Wind
,
Catch-22
,
Dracula
,
Of Mice and Men
. Christ, Bryce, it’s a summer reading list.” She ran her index finger along the spine of each book as she read. “Oh, wait, what’s this?
Bridget Jones’ Diary
-
not
on a summer reading list.”

Next to the books was a stack of
eclectic magazines. “
The Economist
,
Entertainment Weekly
,
Popular Science
,
Wine Spectator
,
Southern Living
.” Alison stopped as her eyes fell on the magazine near the bottom of the pile. “
Maxim
?” Still on her knees, Alison twisted around to look at an embarrassed Bryce.

“I thought it was a philosophy magazine. You understand, maxim, as in a general truth or rule of conduct.” Rubbing the back of her neck she kept her eyes averted. “
Sadly scantily clad women are not a general rule of conduct.”

Alison laughed. “No, but they may constitute a general truth.” Bryce looked up and smiled, clearly pleased with their banter. “
Do you have a favorite book?”

Shrugging, Bryce set her wine glass on the floor next to the sofa, walked over to Alison
, and crouched down next to her. “
The Picture of Dorian Gray
.”