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Authors: Emme Burton

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BOOK: Fix It for Us
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When I see them both, standing close, Kathleen apparently having just playfully slugged him, I pin
Davis with my eyes, cock my head and again with the unexpected hurt voice ask, “It’s your birthday?  How come you never told me?”  It’s one of those things I don’t know about him yet, like his middle name.  How did we miss sharing that information?

Davis leaves Kathleen and immediately comes to me.  He wraps his arms around me tentatively, like he thinks I might stop him.  He kisses me gently
, brings one hand up to my face, and pushes my hair behind my ear to look at me more closely.

“Yeah … today is my birthday.  February 12
th
.  I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.  You know, it’s been a busy week … and I am not super excited about turning 25,” he says by way of explanation.

“I, I didn’t know.  I didn’t get you anything.  How come I didn’t know?  I feel like a moron.”

Davis whispers in my ear so Kathleen can’t hear, “I don’t want anything but you.”

It’s very sweet.  I still feel stupid.

Kathleen chimes in, “Wow, Davis, I thought you were an asshole for not telling her I was coming.  Now, you don’t even tell her it’s your birthday.  Dog house, buddy, DOG. HOUSE.”

I’ve got to admit,
I love that Kathleen can give him shit.  As I think more about the interactions I’ve witnessed, they seem more like brother and sister than former lovers.  Their relationship looks a lot like mine with Charlie.

I let him off the hook and lean around him to talk to Kathleen.
“That’s okay, Kathleen.  Now I know.  We really haven’t been together long – I guess there is a lot I need to learn about him.  He probably doesn’t know my birthday, either.”

Davis is right on that one. “Sure I do.  It’s September 28
th
.”  He opens up the calendar on his phone to show me.

“How did you know?  I’ve never told you.”

“Like I said before about your coffee, I’m observant.”

“I
’m beginning to think you might be a stalker.”

Davis pauses, smirks and then admits,
“Jules told me.”

Kathleen has begun to laugh, “You guys are perfect together.  Perfect.  Davis, you might get out of the dog house by tonight after all.”  She leaves the kitchen for the guest room
with a smile. “I’m going to get dressed.  I hear my Rent-a-Date will be here soon.”

Davis is still holding me, kissing my hair apologetically and rubbing his nose along the side of my face.

I tell him, “Sorry if I was a bit moody about Kathleen.  I just didn’t want to share you this weekend.  I was being paranoid and selfish.  She really is okay, isn’t she?  With us?”  I wave my hand back and forth between us.  “All of this?  You guys just being friends?”

“I really think she is.” Davis says.  “We should get ready.”
  He takes my hand and encourages me to come with him to the bedroom.

***

It’s taking me longer than usual to get ready.  Davis is already showered, dressed and out of the bedroom.  I’m moving a bit slowly.  Dragging my feet on purpose?  Still a bit pouty?  I just don’t feel quite right, but decide to pull it together and get going.

I have a great little dress for the party that PJ picked out for me from costume storage.  It’s a red flapper dress, but instead of the usual fringe, it has strips of fabric with jet beading.  It swishes and sparkles.  I also have amazing “underpinning
s” as PJ calls them – red bra and panties with black polka dots and satin trim.  Roll top stockings, too.  Very authentic.  I want to be fun and sexy from the inside out.  I’m feeling pretty good about the outfit, and I’ve spent a long time on my makeup.  Did my research online. Bright red structured lips with a perfect bow and smokey eyes.  The only other time I wear this much make up is on stage.  The final touch is a black bob wig.  Chin length.  Smooth, shiny and sassy.  When I put it on I hardly recognize myself.  I wonder what Davis will think.  As I finish up, I hear the door bell ring.  That will probably be Smitty.

***

Entering the living room through the French doors of Davis’ bedroom, I am met with a pre-party party.  Smitty is being introduced to Kathleen.  Davis has pulled a bottle of champagne out of a bucket of ice and is just pouring the first glass.  He looks up as I come through the doors and has to quickly pull the bottle back, as he was pouring and not looking and almost overfilling the glass.

“Oops, shit,” he says, shaking some
champagne off his hand and wiping it on the towel around the bottle.  “Lizard? God, you look so different.  I mean, good ..  Great, like you, but different.  And Jesus, HOT.  Smokin’ hot.”  He is effusive with his praise of my look, while at the same time not believing that it’s really me.  “Smitty, Kath … doesn’t Biz look … Oh my God, HOT.”

I tease him because I’ve never seen him act this way before and I am getting a big kick out of it. “You said that already.”

“It bears repeating.  HOT.”  He is finally making his way over to me with a glass of champagne.  Attired in a tuxedo with his hair slicked back like a 1920s gangster, I could say the same about him. HOT.  When he gets right in front of me, he doesn’t touch me, just puts his forehead on mine and breathes out, “I am totally going to get to fuck a hot flapper tonight.  The wait is going to be excruciating” – and then he bites his lip.  He’s barely touching me and he is arousing all my senses.  Jesus, now my little polka dotted panties are in flames.  And we still have a party to go to.

Smitty interrupts our private discussion by clearing his throat, “Ahem.  Other people in the room.  You two are not alone.  I apologize for them
, Kathleen.  It’s really embarrassing.”

             
“I think it’s great,” Kathleen comments.  “I’m glad that Davis is so happy with Biz.”  If it was hard to be mad at Kathleen before, it’s impossible now.  I am beginning to understand why Davis minimized her coming.  He probably figured I’d come around quickly.  He was right.

             
Because Davis’ response to my outfit was so animated, I am only just now getting a look at Smitty and Kathleen.  Standing next to each other they look almost like a couple.  Smitty has round 20s-era tortoiseshell glasses on and his brown hair parted in the middle.  He is wearing a tweed suit with contrasting vest and brown shoes with cream color spats.  The only thing out of place, historically, is the expensive, modern digital camera hanging around his neck.  Kathleen has on a green velvet dropped waist sleeveless dress with a long strand of black pearls tied in a knot near her waist.  Her hair is in long sausage curls with a green velvet band across her forehead.  Her make up is era appropriate and perfect.

             
“You both look so great.” I tell them.

             
Smitty agrees, “Yeah, Kathleen, you look amazing.  Thanks for going with me tonight.”

             
I think I see Kathleen actually blush a little.  “You’re welcome.  I have to apologize.  I was calling you Rent-A-Date to Davis, but now I retract that.  He’s done a decent job finding me someone to go with tonight.”  Now, I think I see Smitty blush.

             
Davis hands us all champagne.  We toast to having a fabulous evening, good company and Davis’ birthday.  I only take a few sips of my champagne.  That stuff goes right to my head, so I know I can’t drink an entire glass.  Besides, I told Davis that I would be the designated driver tonight. He laughed, looked at my breasts and re-used his old joke with a little modification, saying, “You are always the DD.”

             
“Wait, wait, Davis, I have something for you for your birthday,” Kathleen says over her shoulder as she moves away to get something off the island of the kitchen.  Coming back to the living room, she hands a flat rectangular box to Davis.  He opens it, ripping at the paper like a five year old.  Opening the box and looking as his expression changes – first a frown, then a smile, then a little bigger smile, but with wetness in his eyes.  He looks at Kathleen, who is mirroring his expression and then holds the present up for Smitty and me to see.  It is a framed picture of Davis, Kathleen and Davis’ brother, Cole, laughing – young, like 14 or 15, before Cole was diagnosed with bi-polar disorder, I’m guessing.  They all look so happy.  “You remember, Davis?  It wasn’t a special day or anything.  We were just hanging around in your family room on the couch; all three of us, laughing at something stupid like Cole burping the alphabet or something, and your dad took that picture.  I think it’s the best picture of all three of us.  I didn’t know if you had one.”

             
Davis’ eyes are wet with unspilled tears.  He is visibly moved by the gift.  He puts an arm around Kathleen and gives her a squeeze, still gazing at the picture.  “It’s the best, Kath. Really.  I am such a sucker for pictures.  It’s like I can feel what’s in them sometimes.  Weird.”  Not weird at all I think, very sweet.  After all, Davis decided he liked me after seeing a picture.

             
Smitty, ever the photographer, has to comment, “It’s great that you get that Davis.  Not everyone is as drawn in to photos as you seem to be.  Kathleen, it really is a great moment Davis’ dad captured.”  I completely agree and tell Smitty so.

             
Davis sits down on the couch to look at the photo some more.  I sit next to him and put a hand on his knee.  He looks over and smiles at me.  A smile that is both happy and wistful.  I can tell the picture means a lot to him.

             
I whisper to Davis, “I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything, Mavis.  Sweetie, if I had known it was your birthday… I would have made a cake, or something.”

             
“And jumped out of it?” The sadness is over.  Smart aleck Davis is back.

             
“Possibly.”

             
“Baby… Lizard Breath…  I already told you.  All I want for my birthday is you.”  Davis pauses for a second and then with a raised eyebrow adds,  “And maybe Flapper you …”  He points to my dress and then my hair, “with the wig still on.”

             
I know in a flash
EXACTLY
what his present will be.

***

              First cocktail of the night finished, we prepare to leave the condo for the party.  I go back to the bedroom to collect my coat and clutch.  As I head back into the main living space, I see Davis, Smitty and Kathleen looking out one of the bay windows and pointing down at the street.

             
“I thought they might be here,” Kathleen says, irritation evident in her tone.

             
Davis is shaking his head and puts a hand on Kathleen’s back.  Consolingly, he says, “I didn’t know it was still an issue.  I mean, I am so used to being left alone now that I am out of Chicago.  How much does this happen, Kath?”

             
“It slowed down considerably when you came down here to school and your dad got the press to agree to leave you alone.  Lately, since Christmas, if I go out at night, to a party or anything, they are around.  You know we never publicly announced we were no longer engaged.”

             
Davis’ tone darkens as he tells her, “I didn’t think we had to.  It’s nobody’s business but ours.”

             
Joining them at the window I am at a loss.  What are they talking about?  When I get to the window to stand between Davis and Smitty, I get it.  Photographers.  Paparazzi? Davis
is
the son of a politician – former Illinois state politician – and Kathleen a wealthy society girl.  This is really out of my league.  I look up at Davis, questioning with my eyes.

             
“Those guys give all photographers a bad name, damn vultures.  It pisses me off.”  Smitty is more worked up then I have ever seen him.  He doesn’t usually show much emotion.  He’s all about portraying the hipster – or maybe just introverted.  But right now he is huffing mad.

             
We work out a plan to get to HeartSmash while giving them minimal photographic fodder to peddle.  Getting out of the condo is no problem.  We are parked in the underground garage and Davis’ car has blacked out windows.  The challenge will be walking into the venue and coming back out.  The plan is pretty simple.  We will all go in Davis’ SUV.  When we get there, I will walk in with Smitty and Davis and Kathleen will go in together.  I don’t like it.  I’d like us to go in together as a couple, but in the eyes of the world Davis and Kathleen are still together.  I am not even on the radar.  We haven’t told his parents or mine how serious we are.  Davis’ mom still harasses him about breaking up with Kathleen.  It’s something we just need to suck up and do.  The photographers are on Davis’ car the moment we leave the garage.  I’m surprised by the brightness of the flashes as they attempt to take pictures through the blacked out glass.  It saddens me that I don’t even get to sit next to my date on the way to the party.  I am in back with Smitty.

             
Kathleen looks back and apologizes to me on the way, “I am so sorry, Biz, I seem to be ruining your weekend in more ways than one.  I promise I will do my best to stay out of the way for the rest of the night.”  She shoots Smitty a look after finishing her last thought.  It causes me to grin with suspicion and wonder exactly how she is going to “stay out of the way.”

BOOK: Fix It for Us
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