Here's the next chapter... sorry for the delay! I just HAD to hit all the post-Thanksgiving
sales!
Touring
I gave Vaughn a quick tour of the apartment, narrating as I went. As I passed the bathroom,
I told him about how Francie had once managed to make the showerhead explode, flooding the
bathroom and making the renters below us very, very angry.
Vaughn chuckled at the story, trailing along behind me and absorbing everything that I told
him.
We reached my room and I froze. Not because I was nervous about showing it to him, but
because I had remembered, suddenly, that I had been in and out of town for the last few
months. Meaning I hadn't had time to clean in the last few months.
I continued on, though, deciding that if I were ever to have a... less professional
relationship with Vaughn, he would find out eventually that I wasn't a neat freak by any
stretch of the imagination.
Besides, I had a good excuse.
"This," I said, opening the door dramatically, "is my room." He glanced in politely, and I
saw his eyebrows raise slightly at the sight. "I know," I continued. "Not the cleanest
place you've ever seen." I smiled sheepishly. "Haven't had much time to clean up."
I glanced around my room, somewhat shocked myself. It was worse than usual. I blushed
furiously as I noticed a pile of recently dry-cleaned clothes, several of my bras topping
off the pile.
"Actually," Vaughn said, obviously sensing my embarrassment, "I was thinking that it's a lot
cleaner than my room at home." I laughed, realizing immediately that he was just trying to
make me feel better. It worked. I glanced back into my room before shaking my head and
shutting the door.
"I don't think that's possible, Michael," I said with a smile. He always seemed to make me
feel good about myself. Even with stupid things like this.
We headed back into the family room, and I gestured toward the couch. "Coffee should be
done," I said, heading toward the kitchen.
Vaughn lowered himself onto the couch as I returned, carrying two steaming mugs. I was
relieved to see that he seemed much more at ease than earlier. Less nervous. I sat next to
him on the couch, handing him one of the mugs. He smiled his thanks.
"Francie is great, Sydney," he said, taking a tentative sip of the hot liquid. "She must be
a riot to live with." I laughed.
"She definitely is. She's my best friend," I said seriously, frowning slightly. "You know
how it is. She tells me everything- EVERYTHING- about her life, and I... well I tell her
everything about the edited version of mine." I sighed heavily, setting my mug down on the
coffee table and running my hand through my hair.
Vaughn set his mug down as well, and turned towards me, green eyes reflecting the pain in
mine.
"This will all be over someday, Syd, and then you can tell her everything." He paused.
"She may be mad at first, in fact I'm sure she will be. But she'll come around eventually."
He smiled. "Your friendship will be stronger for it.
"I know." I sighed. "It's just- sometimes I get home from Milan or Bangladesh, or
someplace on the other side of the world, and I just want to talk to someone, not run to the bathroom and try to cover up all the new bruises.
He nodded, his eyes sad as he looked at me. "I know. I understand, Syd. I've been there."
He glanced away, alone in his own thoughts for a moment. He picked up his coffee, staring
at it as he spoke again. "The next time you want to talk, Syd, call me. I don't care what
time it is, or what day it is. Sometimes I feel like talking to someone, too." He glanced
at me again, his eyes shy but hopeful.
"What about security?" I asked, gesturing to my phone. Our previous phone conversations had consisted of only a few words, and even those words were disguised.
"We'll figure something out," he said.
"Oh, right. I forgot. You've got connections." I grinned at him. "Which reminds me," I
continued. "How did you manage to arrange the movie theatre situation today?"
"Trade secret. Can't tell you."
"Come on!" I laughed, smiling. "Did you talk to Devlin or something?" I asked, curious.
"No...no." He smiled, giving in. "I have a friend who knows a guy..." he paused. "A little persuasion, a little begging, and a little extra security, and I had myself an empty movie
theatre. Devlin thought I was meeting with you about some old paperwork." He grinned, pleased with himself.
"Well, thank you for going to all the trouble. I had a good time. And I really needed the
break."
"I know. And it was no trouble at all." Vaughn glanced down at his watch and frowned. "I
hate to say this Syd, but I've been here for over an hours."
I raised my eyebrow. I hadn't realized that he had been here so long.
"I'd probably better get going," he said reluctantly.
"Yeah," I agreed, surprised at how sad the thought of him leaving made me. We both rose, and I walked him to the door. "See you soon?" I asked.
"Definitely." He smiled broadly. "I'll be in touch in the next few days if that's OK with
you."
"Sounds good," I replied. I looked at him and saw the conflict in his eyes. He hesitated
for a moment before leaning forward and kissing me softly on the cheek. I felt my heart
flutter in my chest, felt the butterflies return to my stomach, felt the heat rise in my
cheeks, all in the same moment as he backed away from me. He smiled gently.
"See you soon, Sydney," he said, before turning away and heading out the door and down the walkway to his car. I watched him go, my mouth slightly open in shock, and my voice unable to form any words in response.
I watched him as he entered the car, and continued to watch him until he disappeared
around the corner at the end of my street.
sales!
Touring
I gave Vaughn a quick tour of the apartment, narrating as I went. As I passed the bathroom,
I told him about how Francie had once managed to make the showerhead explode, flooding the
bathroom and making the renters below us very, very angry.
Vaughn chuckled at the story, trailing along behind me and absorbing everything that I told
him.
We reached my room and I froze. Not because I was nervous about showing it to him, but
because I had remembered, suddenly, that I had been in and out of town for the last few
months. Meaning I hadn't had time to clean in the last few months.
I continued on, though, deciding that if I were ever to have a... less professional
relationship with Vaughn, he would find out eventually that I wasn't a neat freak by any
stretch of the imagination.
Besides, I had a good excuse.
"This," I said, opening the door dramatically, "is my room." He glanced in politely, and I
saw his eyebrows raise slightly at the sight. "I know," I continued. "Not the cleanest
place you've ever seen." I smiled sheepishly. "Haven't had much time to clean up."
I glanced around my room, somewhat shocked myself. It was worse than usual. I blushed
furiously as I noticed a pile of recently dry-cleaned clothes, several of my bras topping
off the pile.
"Actually," Vaughn said, obviously sensing my embarrassment, "I was thinking that it's a lot
cleaner than my room at home." I laughed, realizing immediately that he was just trying to
make me feel better. It worked. I glanced back into my room before shaking my head and
shutting the door.
"I don't think that's possible, Michael," I said with a smile. He always seemed to make me
feel good about myself. Even with stupid things like this.
We headed back into the family room, and I gestured toward the couch. "Coffee should be
done," I said, heading toward the kitchen.
Vaughn lowered himself onto the couch as I returned, carrying two steaming mugs. I was
relieved to see that he seemed much more at ease than earlier. Less nervous. I sat next to
him on the couch, handing him one of the mugs. He smiled his thanks.
"Francie is great, Sydney," he said, taking a tentative sip of the hot liquid. "She must be
a riot to live with." I laughed.
"She definitely is. She's my best friend," I said seriously, frowning slightly. "You know
how it is. She tells me everything- EVERYTHING- about her life, and I... well I tell her
everything about the edited version of mine." I sighed heavily, setting my mug down on the
coffee table and running my hand through my hair.
Vaughn set his mug down as well, and turned towards me, green eyes reflecting the pain in
mine.
"This will all be over someday, Syd, and then you can tell her everything." He paused.
"She may be mad at first, in fact I'm sure she will be. But she'll come around eventually."
He smiled. "Your friendship will be stronger for it.
"I know." I sighed. "It's just- sometimes I get home from Milan or Bangladesh, or
someplace on the other side of the world, and I just want to talk to someone, not run to the bathroom and try to cover up all the new bruises.
He nodded, his eyes sad as he looked at me. "I know. I understand, Syd. I've been there."
He glanced away, alone in his own thoughts for a moment. He picked up his coffee, staring
at it as he spoke again. "The next time you want to talk, Syd, call me. I don't care what
time it is, or what day it is. Sometimes I feel like talking to someone, too." He glanced
at me again, his eyes shy but hopeful.
"What about security?" I asked, gesturing to my phone. Our previous phone conversations had consisted of only a few words, and even those words were disguised.
"We'll figure something out," he said.
"Oh, right. I forgot. You've got connections." I grinned at him. "Which reminds me," I
continued. "How did you manage to arrange the movie theatre situation today?"
"Trade secret. Can't tell you."
"Come on!" I laughed, smiling. "Did you talk to Devlin or something?" I asked, curious.
"No...no." He smiled, giving in. "I have a friend who knows a guy..." he paused. "A little persuasion, a little begging, and a little extra security, and I had myself an empty movie
theatre. Devlin thought I was meeting with you about some old paperwork." He grinned, pleased with himself.
"Well, thank you for going to all the trouble. I had a good time. And I really needed the
break."
"I know. And it was no trouble at all." Vaughn glanced down at his watch and frowned. "I
hate to say this Syd, but I've been here for over an hours."
I raised my eyebrow. I hadn't realized that he had been here so long.
"I'd probably better get going," he said reluctantly.
"Yeah," I agreed, surprised at how sad the thought of him leaving made me. We both rose, and I walked him to the door. "See you soon?" I asked.
"Definitely." He smiled broadly. "I'll be in touch in the next few days if that's OK with
you."
"Sounds good," I replied. I looked at him and saw the conflict in his eyes. He hesitated
for a moment before leaning forward and kissing me softly on the cheek. I felt my heart
flutter in my chest, felt the butterflies return to my stomach, felt the heat rise in my
cheeks, all in the same moment as he backed away from me. He smiled gently.
"See you soon, Sydney," he said, before turning away and heading out the door and down the walkway to his car. I watched him go, my mouth slightly open in shock, and my voice unable to form any words in response.
I watched him as he entered the car, and continued to watch him until he disappeared
around the corner at the end of my street.