The Revolution (14 page)

When I go inside, Rochelle is frantic, holding one open bottle of champagne in one hand and her phone in the other up to her ear. Her back is to me, her long brown hair enviously wavy, and her figure in her shirt and jeans makes it easy to see why Dex is drawn to her. With all she’s been through, I hope she can find happiness again.

“Hellooooo,” I call out as to not startle her.

She spins around and sees me, a wide smile appearing. “Maybe around midnight,” she says into the phone and nods for me to follow her. As soon as we reach the kitchen, Dex enters with the first box trailed by two valets carrying the others. “Thank you.”

She hangs up and turns to the guys. “Make sure he tips well for doing his job for him.”

Her teasing earns her a hug—Dex swoops in and grabs her. “Speaking of tips—”

“Not now,” she says, laughing. She blushes and I turn away, the intimacy between them incredibly sweet.

Pushing the valets out, I tell them, “He’ll be out shortly. Thank you for the help.”

Rochelle catches me in the living room. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Her arm slips around mine and we walk to the guest room together. “How are you?”

“I’m fine. No need to worry.” I set my purse down on the floor in the corner, and reassure her again. “Really. I’m fine.”

“Okay.” She doesn’t push. “I’m glad you’re here. Want to help get this party started?”

“I do indeed.”

The first few guests arrive right after me. Rochelle is setting out the platters of food and I’m snacking on mini carrots she left in a bowl on the counter. I watch her and consider how much she’s changed over the last few years. She’s become herself again, but different in a way. She’s a better version of the woman and friend she’s always been. I envy her determination to be happy after the tragedy of losing herself along with her first love.

Breaking up with Mark hasn’t been a tragedy by any means, but his turn is worrisome. Shaking it off, I decide to forget him for the night and have fun. It’s the only thing that will help me forget the fear I felt earlier. “Did you make all of this?”

She smiles proudly with a tray of brownies in her hand. “I did. I started early this morning.”

“Why not use a caterer? That would have been a lot easier.”

After setting the tray down, she says, “I once had it all and it was taken away. I’m not afraid of hard work, so I don’t need easy. If I did, I wouldn’t be starting a relationship with Dex.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“No, no. It’s okay. It’s just being here—throwing this party—feels like a statement of sorts and I just want to show everyone that I care.”

“You don’t have to throw a party to do that. Everyone loves you and cares about you. You have the biggest heart of anyone I know.” I look around at the table and at the bar being set up outside, and look back to Rochelle. “You are amazing in many ways. Make sure to enjoy the party.”

“I will. And thanks.”

“Can I do anything to help?”

Rochelle smiles. “Just have a good time.”

“How about I get us a couple cocktails. Champagne?”

“I just opened one. Do you mind taking it to the bartender? It’s a sparkling
rosé
, my fave.”

She goes back to organizing the buffet and I head to the bar. The bartender leans forward on the marble top and asks, “What can I get you?”

“Rochelle said there’s a bottle with her name on it. Two please.”

“Coming right up,” he replies with a wink. He removes the stopper and fills the glasses before setting them on the bar between us. “Friend of the hostess?”

“Yes.”

He nods. “You gonna hang out awhile?”

“I’ll be here all night.”

He comes off as a cocky frat boy. Maybe he is. What he’s not, is my type. “That’s a coincidence. So am I.”

“Thanks for the drinks. I should let you get back to your job.”

“You’re very welcome. Come see me again.”

“I’m sure I will. You are the keeper of the liquor after all.” I return to the kitchen, handing Rochelle her glass. “Cheers.” We tap glasses and sip. Dex walks in, his eyes seeming to light up when he sees her. It’s amazing to see a man look at a woman like that. They went from hiding their love away to sharing it with the world.

It makes me realize no one has ever looked at me like that. Envy fills my belly, mixing with the wine bubbles. “I’m gonna walk around.” I slip off to the living room.

Sitting in a chair near the fireplace, I watch the orange and yellow flames as my thoughts drift back to Mark. It’s a bad habit I need to break, but the stress of everything with him makes it hard. With imperfect timing, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I look down at the message on the screen:
I’m sorry. I miss you. I love you. I’ll do anything to make this up to you. Anything.

I won’t reply. He doesn’t deserve it and I don’t know what to say anyway. What I do know is I
don’t
want him back. But now I’m scared… scared
of
him. Deep down. I know he’s hurting. Breakups are hard. He needs to move on. He needs to find his passion again and I’m not it. We’re over and it’s best if I remember the bad like today as a reminder when I’m feeling sorry for him.

Some of the band is gathered in the corner, but not Kaz. I look toward the back when I hear, “Who you looking for?”

His voice makes me smile, my body instantly on alert. I turn around, captivated by expressive eyes. My insides curl in on themselves. I’m well aware that an emotional attachment has already bridged the gap between us. “You.”

He rubs his thumb over his bottom lip while looking at me with a wicked glint in the pupils of his eyes. “If it makes a difference, I was looking for you.”

I touch him because I struggle not to, so I indulge my needs for this man, and give in. With my hand on his chest, I say, “It makes all the difference in the world.”

Coming even closer, he whispers, “It makes all the difference to me too.” A kiss follows, being placed so effortlessly on my cheek. I love his confidence and comfort in expressing how he feels. I love his openness to the world and his gentleness with me.

Giving in to my other needs, I lean in and close my eyes, ready to kiss him all night. My phone rings in my pocket, jolting us from the moment.
Damn it.
I pull it out and look down at the screen.
Mark.

Kaz sees it. “I’m gonna get a drink and let you take that call.” He walks away, taking all the ease and joy we were sharing with him.

Left standing in a bog of mixed emotions, I send the call to voicemail. My heart’s not broken. He already destroyed that possibility. But I feel as though I should feel guilty.
Should I feel bad that I don’t feel worse? That I don’t feel heartbroken?
When I walked away from him, it was the best thing for me.
I know that’s true.
Walking into the kitchen I find Rochelle refilling a tray of food. “You should have had it catered,” I say, setting my glass down and helping her.

“I like to cook. It allows me to enjoy the process of planning for the party. Slows things down and I get to focus on the task at hand.” She looks up with a smile. “This is the last tray anyway, so if you’re hungry, you should eat now. As soon as the guys start eating, there will be nothing left.” She laughs.

I sigh. “I’ve lost my appetite. I just sent Mark’s call to voicemail.”

“C’mon,” she says, taking the tray and setting it on the table. She walks straight to the bar and grabs two more glasses of champagne and then makes her way outside. We stop just outside the door and she hands me one of the glasses. “Let’s go over there.” She points to two chairs at the other end of the pool.

We sit and she leans back, looking up at the stars starting to appear. It’s that perfect part of the whole day, when day meets night, and twilight appears for a brief time. “A lot has changed over the years. Some for the worse. A lot for the better.” When she looks at me, she says, “I’ve never had a man treat me how Mark has treated you. But I also understand how pliable, how resilient and strong the heart is. Forget what you’re supposed to say, and tell me the truth. Do you still have feelings for him?”

“I have feelings but love isn’t one of them.”

“You and Mark were a whirlwind. It all happened so fast that I think you got caught up in the hurricane of his life.”

“I often compare him to bad weather ironically.”

“Maybe not so ironic. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter what I think, Lara. It’s not my life. But from what I know, what I’ve seen the last couple of months, and seeing your happiness disappear, I think you’re now heading toward a better emotional place.” She looks beyond me, then back. “I like Kaz, but maybe you’re heart needs some time to heal.”

“I’m fine, Rochelle. I understand you’re worried, but I really am fine.”

“You have unfinished business with Mark. Wrap up the mess you’re in the middle of and give yourself and Kaz the respect you deserve. He’s a good guy. Don’t make him a rebound.”

I pause before I speak, surprised by the ferocity in her voice. “I won’t. We’re just getting to know each other, but I like him.”

“I can tell. He likes you too. I’ve not seen him like this. His last girlfriend,” she starts, “was a drama queen. He hated that. We all hated it.”

“I can imagine. I know you and the band are very private. You mentioned respect. Respect seems to be a running theme lately when it comes to timing. Thinking about you and Dex, you took years, out of respect, to be together. I’m sure looking back you wish you could have some of that time back.”

“I do in a way, but I wouldn’t change the journey we took to be where we are now. We wouldn’t be the same people if we skipped some of the steps along the way. Take your time now so no one gets hurt later.”

“I hear what you’re saying.” Glancing over my shoulder, I see Kaz through the open doors. He’s talking to Derrick, but his eyes are on us. “I don’t want him to be a rebound.”

“Then don’t put him in that position. Get your crap from Mark and end the phone calls and texts. End all contact. Finalize it.” Leaning closer, she touches my arm, and adds, “You are a strong woman. Don’t let him destroy who you are because he’s weak.” She stands and starts walking back toward the house, but stops and turns back to say, “Oh and I said nothing about sex. You should totally have all the sex you can get.”

“Whore!” I laugh while teasing.

“Takes one to know one.”

“God, I love you.”

“Love you too,” she says, smirking.

When she walks in, Derrick and Kaz walk out. They stop and talk to her a moment. All three look at me. She smiles, saying something else to them before she departs.

Derrick takes her chair, making himself at home in front of me. Kaz grabs a chair nearby, carries it over, and joins us. When he sits down, he leans forward on his knees. “I think I need a smoke.”

“I’ve got weed,” Derrick offers.

“Nah,” he responds.

I watch their interaction. You can see how comfortable they are in their friendship. Derrick asks me, “You smoke?”

“No,” I say, shaking my head.

“Do you care if I do?” Derrick waits for my response.

“No.” I stand, locking eyes with Kaz. “I need to make a call anyway.” Moving farther away from the guests, I try to figure out what I’m going to say.

“Hey, Lara?” Kaz calls me quietly, just the two of us around.

“Yeah?” When I turn back, he’s close.

He’s nervous by the way he shifts, turning us around so my back is to the party. “I came on too strong the other night. I know you said you aren’t together, but it’s new and considering he’s sending you flowers and still calling you, I feel like I took advantage of the situation and it was selfish of me. I wasn’t thinking about you. Well, I was thinking about you.” He grins mischievously. “But I wasn’t putting your needs first. I’m sorry about your breakup.”

Reaching out, I touch his hand with my fingertips. “You don’t have to apologize. I did what I wanted to do and don’t regret anything if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m worried about you.”

“I know you are, but you don’t have to be.” Then I tell him the first lie, “I’m fine. Everything’s fine.” To lighten things up, I prod for my own enjoyment. “Are you sorry for the flirting?”

“I said I felt bad and I shouldn’t have done it.” He leans closer, his hand taking hold of my arm gently. He’s so close that I can smell the Jack and Coke on his breath. My eyes close, relaxing in the comfort of his touch. “But I’m not sorry.”

When his lips touch my cheek, I lean into the kiss he’s giving.

“Lara!”

My lids fly open, my body tense and shaken when I hear Mark over the music. Kaz’s hand drops and he steps forward, shielding me with his body. His jaw is tense, contracting and tightening, his eyes set as he glares at the intruder to our conversation.

Hurrying around Kaz, I try to diffuse the scene that’s building, and ask, “Mark, what are you doing here?”

Mark’s eyes are locked on Kaz, his attention determined as he stares at him. I touch his chest, but he doesn’t look at me until I tap him. “Weren’t we both invited to this party?” I drop my hands to my side and I take a small step back, weary of his anxious demeanor. He’s domineering and intimidating, his tone harsh, but threateningly low. “What are you doing with him?”