One Step Away (A Bedford Falls Novel Book 1) (23 page)

“No one thinks about overweight zombies
except you.”

“Okay, fine. What about vampires? They drink
blood. Yet their heart doesn’t beat. You’d think they’d need blood
to keep their hearts beating, but they don’t. It’s ridiculous. Now
I see them on TV and they’re drinking vodka and getting wasted. But
how is that possible? They’re dead. Their body can’t process
alcohol. So how can they get drunk?”

“How could they exist at all?” Alex asked.
“It’s make believe, just like
Beauty and the Beast.
Or
Pinocchio
. We don’t question it. We just enjoy it. And here
you are, analyzing it.”

Their waitress arrived, placed their drinks
in front of them, and took their orders – salmon for Marisa and a
cheeseburger and fries for Alex – before leaving them.

Her easy rapport with Alex could cover any
topic, dabbling in the obscure, getting sidetracked by the
spiritual or scientific, before turning to friends and family, then
shifting to work or entertainment.

She missed it. She missed
them
. She
missed how she didn’t have to worry about what she might say,
because Alex would never judge her or criticize her.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, popping a
fry into his mouth.

She shook her head. “Lance just found out he
has prostate cancer. He’ll be undergoing chemotherapy. Tomorrow is
his last day. I’ll be the interim director for at least nine
months.”

Alex just stared at her, mouth agape in
shock.

After she told him the little she knew about
his condition, they recalled favorite memories about Lance and
wished him a quick recovery. Then she speculated about how his
absence would affect her staff. “If I had a full team and knew what
I was doing, I’d be fine. But right now, I don’t know where to
begin. I’m actually…kind of scared.” She launched into all of her
fears, touching on her inadequacies and lack of training, not to
mention her absence of a mentor.

While she talked, Alex looked sympathetic
between each bite of his burger. He didn’t offer any suggestions or
advice. He’d didn’t try to help her, because how could he? He just
listened.

After taking a sip of beer, Alex put down
his glass and waited for her to continue.

Now she wanted him to say something, yet he
remained silent. She wasn’t sure if he thought she would continue
talking, or if he was just mulling over what she’d said. Even more
so, she was hoping for some recommendations.

“What do you think?” she asked. “Any
ideas?”

“I don’t know.” He glanced away,
distracted.

“What’s wrong?”

He refused to look her in the eye and took
his time before answering. “I don’t know.”

The connection she had always relied upon,
which often allowed her to anticipate his thoughts before he voiced
them, failed her. Perhaps spending three weeks apart had severed
that intimate link. Possible but unlikely. No, she blamed it on
this more laid-back, reflective Alex Lawford. He looked more
assured and unaffected by how others perceived him, like the people
around him were supporting players in a film about his life. He’d
become less transparent, less predictable.

For someone who proclaimed that he loved her
– only three weeks ago – he seemed indifferent to her now. And it
seemed genuine, not as though he were trying to put up a false
front. He no longer hung on her every word, no longer looked at her
with so much emotion crossing his face.

Marisa should have felt relieved. But she
missed the way he looked at her. He always made her feel like the
most important person, not only in the room, but on the planet.
These elements contributed to why she found this new Alex so
irritating which, for some reason, made him all the more
captivating.

“Why did you get a motorcycle?” she asked,
taking a bite of salmon.

He glanced around the restaurant and took
his time before answering. “I always wanted to ride, but I let the
risks undermine me. I realized that I didn’t want to let fear hold
me back anymore. I wanted to live life. Not just let it happen to
me.” He met her gaze. “I needed to take a new direction and become
a more complete person. And the only way to make that happen was to
do something about it. So I took a new job. I bought a bike.”

“But you’ve changed in other ways, too.”

He looked at her, impassive.

“You seem more decisive, more…just more. I
can’t describe it.”

He continued staring at her, giving nothing
away.

“Say something. You’re starting to tick me
off.” His cool exterior and unwillingness to speak mesmerized her.
She wanted to shake him, to demand answers. And based on the hint
of a smile that never quite fully surfaced, he knew exactly what
she was thinking and seemed to enjoy her confusion. “Knock it off,”
she said.

“What’s bothering you?”

“We’ve barely talked in three weeks, and you
won’t tell me anything about what’s going on with you.”

“When you’re ready to ask—”

“That’s all I’ve been doing.”

“No, you’ve made statements. If you want to
know something, all you have to do is ask. I don’t bite.” He
quirked an eyebrow. “Or maybe I do.”

“See? That’s what I’m talking about. This…”
She raised a hand, waving it in the air. “This aura thing or
whatever it is that you’ve got going on is annoying the hell out of
me.”

“Bummer for you.” He ate a fry.

She blew out a breath, trying to calm
herself. “Okay, separate subject: my job. I’m basically a director
now. And I have no idea what I’m doing. Can you help me?”

“You’re asking me? I’ve only been on the job
for a week. How can I help you?”

Marisa anticipated that he’d offer to help
before she even asked him for it. In the past, he would have done
exactly that. And now, even after she sought his assistance, he
resisted her. She didn’t like this imposter. “With budgeting.
You’re so good with figures and everything. And with other things
like the people at work who…might not believe in me.”

“With budgeting? I might be able to help.
With your staff? I’ve already helped you there.”

“What? How?”

“The day you rejected me.”

Marisa hated that reminder. Would he ever
understand why they wouldn’t make a good couple? Would he ever
forgive her? “What are you talking about?”

“When Esther asked if we were a couple, I
played along to help you. People find it difficult to talk to
you.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“I agree. Most of them never took the time
to get to know you.” He looked around for the waitress. “I could
use another beer.” He turned back to Marisa. “What?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’? I’m easy to talk
to. Plenty of people told me I’m easy to talk to. I’m curious. I
like different types of people. I like—”

“All kinds of guys. But don’t worry,” he
said, leaning closer, “I’d never say that.” He winked at her.

She ignored the joke. “I talk with
everybody. I’m not rude. I’m not—”

“Ask yourself this question: when people
have good news, do they seek you out? When they have bad news, do
they come to you for a sympathetic ear? And when they come back
from a vacation, do they want to share their pictures with you?
Face it: you’re not that person.

“I allowed Esther to think that we were
together because, for some reason, she doesn’t like you. But
everyone likes Esther. She’s a total gossip queen, but she’s a nice
person, and I get along with her. If she thought we were together,
I thought it might make it easier for you after I left. People
might get to know the Marisa that I know. You’re a good person.
More people should see that. They should give you a chance.

“Then a small part of me thought you’d
decide to ignore me, but the result would end up the same: the
staff would think you’re trying to remain professional. Which would
make them respect you and encourage them to want to know you
better. But here’s what I don’t get: after blowing me off and
acting like I didn’t exist, where do you get the nerve to ask me
for help?”

Marisa, shocked to hear Alex reveal his true
feelings, was ashamed for thinking that he might use the rumor to
get back at her. How could she have been so stupid? How could she
have misjudged his intentions?

She felt tears slipping down her cheeks and
wiped them away. She should have known that he would never
purposely hurt her. And thinking otherwise made her feel like a
horrible friend, which helped her understand why some library staff
never took a shine to her.

“At this moment,” Alex said, “when you need
so much advice, why aren’t you calling on the people who can help
you? You’ll never get a more perfect opportunity to get your staff
to believe in you than in this moment.”

She lowered her head, disappointed in
herself for not seeing this as an opportunity.

“Did it ever occur to you that your staff is
distant with you because maybe you don’t trust them? So why should
they trust you? Instead, you want to rely on me because I’ve never
turned you away. Well, not this time, Marisa. I’m not a doormat.”
He slid out of the booth in one easy motion. “This time, you’re on
your own.”

He walked away from her table. And he didn’t
look back.

Another round of tears fell from her eyes.
Not because Alex wouldn’t help her. And not because he walked out
on her. She was elated because he’d spoken his mind.

She slumped in relief, almost exhausted from
having carried the invisible weight of that burden. She knew that
he’d always filtered his responses, based on what he believed she
wanted to hear.

In short, even though his intentions were
honorable, he wasn’t always entirely honest with her. But now that
he’d revealed his thoughts without concern for how she would
respond, she felt an outpouring of emotion for him. It made her
feel closer to him, like he’d finally admitted to himself that they
were on the same level, which she believed they should have been on
all along. She always regarded him as an equal, but for reasons she
never understood, he’d never done likewise.

Although she knew his honesty would enhance
their friendship, Marisa worried about the backlash – he’d spurned
the opportunity to help her. That had never happened before.

No matter what she needed, Alex had always
done everything possible to lend a hand. But this time, when she
asked for so little, he turned her down, not because he couldn’t
help but because he didn’t want to.

When Alex had
initially revealed the depth of his feelings, Marisa was worried
because she didn’t want to lose his friendship. But now, she didn’t
know if he even wanted to be her friend anymore.

It appeared as though in her attempts to
save their friendship, Marisa may have destroyed it.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“I unloaded on her,” Alex said to Damon
while sitting beside him on a stool at the front counter of
Forever and Always
. He’d asked for Kelsey, but one of the
waitresses told him that she wouldn’t be in until a little later.
“She needed my help, and I offended her. What was I thinking? I
just kept doing what you said: don’t kiss her ass.”

“But did you lie to her?”

“No. I told the truth.”

“Then don’t worry about it.”

“How can you say that? I really hurt
her.”

“You’re not going to understand this now,
but you couldn’t have handled it any better. Your relationship with
her will be better off for it.”

Alex couldn’t believe such a ludicrous
statement. Why had he trusted Damon so much? Why had he listened to
such idiotic advice? But he couldn’t deny that it proved valuable:
otherwise, he wouldn’t have found himself in Cassandra’s apartment.
“Pay attention now, because what I’m about to say is very
important: you’re a misogynist moron.”

Damon laughed. “I said you wouldn’t
understand it. And don’t give me that sexist crap. I write books
for women.”

“It means you’re a good writer.”

“You’re on the right path. Trust me.”

“I made her cry. How often does the hero of
your novel make his love interest cry?”

“Valid point. But my heroes aren’t in the
situation you’re in. My heroines were already attracted to them.
This is new ground you’re breaking.”

“Wait a minute,” Alex said, holding out a
hand. “I thought you’ve handled my situation before.”

“No, I said that it’s nearly impossible to
get out of the friend zone. But that you have a great chance of
doing it. Back to the issue: you told her the truth, and Marisa
didn’t like hearing it. That’s all that happened. She’ll get over
it.”

Alex poked Damon in the arm.

“What the hell?”

“Just wanted to make sure you have feelings.
Then again, that doesn’t mean you have a heart. One that beats
anyway.”

“Remember when I told you to be
unpredictable? I said that because it keeps women from getting
bored. They’re emotional. Much of the time, they make decisions
based on how they feel. For example, women will sometimes start
fights with their boyfriends or husbands to feel something other
than the same old thing. They want to make sure their man is still
committed to them, and if their guy gets upset or fights with them,
they take it to mean that because he felt angry enough to fire back
at her, she feels reassured that their bond is still strong. Not
only that but it also makes her feel alive. I know it sounds
stupid, but some women give in to their feelings this way. And
every once in a while, it’s not a bad thing to make her feel strong
emotions. You may think it’s manipulating her, but they do the same
thing by causing the argument. Make sense?”

Alex nodded. “But I think making her cry
goes beyond—”

“Think of it this way: if someone she didn’t
care about told her that, she might question it. But her best
friend said it to her, someone she cares strongly about. It
affected her.
You
affected her. She cried because she cares
about what you think and how you feel. Don’t underestimate that.
Seeing her cry means she can be vulnerable with you. Isn’t that
what you want?”