Sweet Valley Confidential: Ten Years Later (31 page)

Sullivan’s, another one of those ubiquitous faux Irish bars, was on the corner, and Elizabeth could see Will through the large front window. He was sitting at the bar reading a newspaper.

A tinge of excitement shivered through her, a tinge that could have been sexual, or just plain fear. With no other choice, Elizabeth decided to play it by ear.

“Hey,” Will said when she pushed open the door. He stood up, smiling, welcoming.

Just what she didn’t need. She could feel the apology bubbling up through his smile.

He was going to apologize for accusing her of just what had happened.

It would be worse than she’d expected. It smelled of moral decisions, no-win choices, and all the things that she should have considered earlier. How could she stop him?

“I’m really glad you aren’t still angry at me—”

“Will, can we just keep this professional and finish the interview?”

“I’d feel better if we talked about it.”

“Work, first. Okay?”

Was she turning into Jessica, the manipulator? Or had she always been this way, only cleverly disguised? From herself.

Pushing the thought away, Elizabeth jumped right into the safety of work. “How did you first get the idea for a play about Samuel Johnson?”

She really was Jessica.

And he bought it, the way everyone always bought whatever Jessica was selling. Additionally, she wanted him to talk about himself. That was hard for anyone to resist.

The interview went on very comfortably. Will was a good subject for the next hour, lubricated by some fairly decent Pinot Noir. When the questions stopped, they had moved on and something else was in the air.

And they were both feeling it.

It wasn’t about dinner. Though Will did offer to make something easy, sandwiches, or to pick up a pizza to eat at his house.

“That’s okay,” Elizabeth said. “I’m not really hungry.”

“Me, neither.”

“So what are you?” It was a seduction scene and Elizabeth was the seductress and she was liking it.

Will tried not to let his surprise show, but he couldn’t stop the delight. “Anything you want me to be.…”

“I have some ideas.…”

“You want to tell me? Or better still, show me?”

“Here?” Elizabeth was smiling. She really liked this guy.

“Not for what I have in mind.”

“I’m really liking this interview.”

“Me, too. Let’s take it home.”

As a journalist, Elizabeth insisted on paying. Rather than take the time to put it on her card, she left the cash and a tip on the table.

In the cab to Will’s apartment, there wasn’t much conversation because the unpleasant—especially for people who weren’t at all hungry—odor of some spicy Middle Eastern dish the driver had probably just finished eating was so powerful that they were both hanging out their windows.

Even that didn’t spoil the mood. Instead, it lent a humorous note that would have lightened any awkwardness, had there been awkwardness. Strangely enough, there wasn’t. The Pinot Noir had done its job.

They could have gone back to Elizabeth’s apartment, which was just a few blocks away, but Elizabeth needed a place where she could escape for all kinds of reasons, starting with cold feet and moving right on to the dreaded apology for what Will thought was an unjust accusation. An accusation that was, in truth, right on the mark. If only there was a way she could delay that talk forever.

For now, she had the perfect way.

Will fumbled a little with the key. Could he be as nervous as she was? Obviously not, as they were barely inside when he took her in his arms, kicked the door shut with his foot, and kissed her passionately.

The taste of his mouth, the warmth, the softness, sent a wave of passion that swamped her, pulled her out of everything but the feelings in her body.

Elizabeth responded with an urgency that surprised her. She wanted this guy more than she knew, and the body doesn’t lie. She was going to go with it. All the way.

Will took her hand and, without a word, led her to his bedroom.

Any pretense at inhibition disappeared. Flinging clothes in all directions, they fumbled their way to the bed.

Once there, it all turned slow motion. They touched each other, the palms of their hands and tips of their fingers languidly caressing, exploring, like blind people, until there was nothing they didn’t know of each other’s bodies. This inch-by-inch build of passion created the aching need to join deeply, intimately, and overcame any trace of reality. The heat and sweat of their fervor combined to fling them onto their own trajectories and land them together at almost the same moment.

This time, there were no tears from Elizabeth. In fact, the wildness of the last half hour had wiped out all her anxieties. She lay content in Will’s arms.

It was so different from being with Todd; even now it felt like a strange and disloyal thought but true. She tried to think of exactly how it was different. Yes, she and Todd had been together a fairly long time, had lived together for almost two years. That had to quiet passions. Or deepen them.

It had quieted theirs.

Elizabeth knew herself to be a commitment freak. When she made a promise, come hell or high water, she stayed with it. Long after the water had receded.

Will had drifted off to sleep, but he was still holding her. And she still liked his arms around her, liked it very much.

The respite gave her some introspective time, time without the bitterness that always accompanied any thoughts of her situation, known either as the Dumped Situation or the Betrayed Situation. Lest that belittle her circumstance, both came with all the accoutrements that attend such painful wounds.

In the last few months, the strongest longing she’d connected with Todd was for revenge, to hurt him as he had hurt her. Where was the quiet ache of a broken heart? That dreaming of the happiness they had once shared? That longing for a missed love that crushes the spirit and leaves a dark pit of loneliness?

Not one had a chance against her fury.

Would she want Todd’s arms around her now?

Absolutely not.

But was that lack of love or too much anger?

Suppose it wasn’t love that had broken her heart. Suppose it was rejection and duplicity.

Maybe that’s what she would have needed to end it. Something catastrophic. She could never have ended it by falling out of love. She never would have known that she had; she cared too much. She was the commitment freak.

Will stirred, opened his eyes. He smiled at her and held her closer.

Elizabeth smiled back and kissed his cheek lightly.

That was enough to rekindle the embers, and the heat took them back to where they’d left off.

Sometime around 2:00
A.M.,
without time out for dinner, Elizabeth pled her deadline and left.

It was a good leaving—no promises. They both had some interesting thinking to do.

18

New York

Elizabeth was back at her apartment in less than ten minutes. That can happen in the city in those rare times between breaths when there is no traffic. Nothing is really that far away. It just seems that way when you’re trying to go crosstown during rush hour. And in New York, it’s always rush hour for someone.

“How’re you doing, George?” Elizabeth flung a wave to the doorman as she passed. The tenants always joked about how the doorman job would be perfect for the wheelchair-bound since, save one, not any of the doormen ever got up from behind the desk to open the door or help with a package. It was a marginal West Side building with marginal doormen. The one exception was a new man who came from an East Side apartment house and hadn’t yet learned lethargy. But that wasn’t George. George was a sitter.

“That was fast,” said George from his usual perch. “Really fast.”

“I guess,” Elizabeth answered, not having any idea what was fast and not wanting to ask and get ten minutes of the latest tenant gossip.

The mailboxes were in the back of the lobby. She could hear George going on about how he didn’t even see her leave.

“And I was right here. All the time,” he said.

“Relax. I’m in for the night,” Elizabeth said, holding her mail and slipping quickly into the elevator. “See you, George.”

“It’s not possible…” The elevator door closed off the rest of his response.

The mail was as expected, bills and advertisements, and no invites to marvelous New York parties. In her eight months here, no one had invited Elizabeth to a marvelous party—or any kind of party. Part of it was her own fault; she never hooked up with any women her own age. The only way singles can move around in a city like New York is in clusters, and Elizabeth didn’t have a cluster. In fact, with the exception of a woman she ran into occasionally when she was doing laundry in the basement, she didn’t know any other women her age. The only woman in her office was married and in her fifties.

Lots of excuses, but the truth was, she hadn’t tried. In fact, she’d discouraged any attempts at friendship. She was too busy suffering.

But now, that might be over.

The elevator stopped at the seventh floor and Elizabeth got out just as her neighbor, the one right next door without a name, stepped in. They both said hi and smiled. Two o’clock in the morning and she’s just going out? New York neighbors are very interesting.

The smile was still on Elizabeth’s face when she turned the corner toward her apartment, but it froze when she saw who was sitting on the floor outside her door.

*   *   *

Poor George. Now Elizabeth understood what had confused him. In front of her door, in a sleeping heap, surrounded by a sequined backpack and a Prada bag, was her twin sister.

It was a shock to see Jessica here in New York. More shocking still was the pounding reverberating in Elizabeth’s heart, an involuntary combination of excitement and, if she didn’t know better, happiness. But that lasted only an instant. The reverse quickly took over and she even considered carefully and quietly opening the door and, without waking Jessica, stepping over her and slipping into the apartment.

That option was lost when Jessica opened her eyes. There was a dazed nanosecond of disorientation before she readjusted and jumped to her feet. The movement could have continued forward toward her sister, but Elizabeth imperceptibly pulled back and Jessica stopped.

“Can you ever forgive me?” Then, without waiting for a response, she said, “I left him.”

Elizabeth paused to take in the news and swallowed it, choking a little on her possible involvement. Had Liam triggered this? It was too complicated a thought to deal with now.

Without a word or a sign of any sort, Elizabeth unlocked the door and pushed it open. She stood back and, with a small nod of her head, motioned Jessica to step in.

Jessica scooped up her things and entered.

This was the first time Jessica had been in this kind of New York apartment. That time during spring break Alice’s friend’s building had been brand new and very grand, and with Regan, of course, they’d always stayed in chic, modern penthouses or hotels. Additionally, this was old and looked it, and so completely different from Sweet Valley that it seemed more like Europe to her. Since it was already furnished, there was nothing of her sister’s she recognized. And it wasn’t even Elizabeth neat; there were clothes thrown on the chairs and a half-eaten sandwich on the kitchen counter, which was actually a piece of kitchen in the living room.

Maybe she wouldn’t know how to deal with this new Elizabeth. She’d already deviated from her plan and lost any advantage she could have had by not being awake to see Elizabeth’s first reaction and judge what kind of chance she had.

Somehow, when Jessica had made the decision to come to New York and throw herself on her sister’s mercy, she’d pictured it differently. Though she planned to be true and honest, not to spare herself any blame, her explanation would be couched in a gentle, loving, apologetic but hopeful manner. Instead, she had blurted out everything in two sentences and Elizabeth hadn’t responded. Were they so far apart that nothing would ever heal the rift?

“What are you doing here?” Elizabeth asked evenly, calmly picking up her clothes from the couch.

“Didn’t you hear what I said? I left Todd.”

“That has nothing to do with me.” Her response was so cold, Elizabeth couldn’t even look at her sister when she said it.

That’s why she didn’t see Jessica sink to the couch and put her face in her hands, but she did hear the sobs.

Jessica had had many unhappy times in the last eight months, and though there were many tears, she’d never broken down and wept like this.

It was the sound of irretrievable loss. It was almost a wail.

It cut through to Elizabeth’s heart. After years of conditioning, of always being the one responsible for answering her sister’s needs, her response was involuntary, and it was excruciating not to be able to take Jessica in her arms and comfort her the way she had done countless times in their lives.