The brisk night air greeted Tony and Angela as they stepped outside into the darkness from the bar. The warm glow of streetlamps and the nearby gas station provided enough light to guide their way along the uneven and overgrown sidewalk. This really was the outskirts of Fairfield, a far cry from the neatly manicured lawns of Angela's traditional tree-lined neighbourhood. Instead, flattened Styrofoam burger boxes and shattered brown and green glass provided a rather grim realisation that Angela was nowhere near home, and not quite sure how she ended up here in the first place.
Well, maybe she did have an inkling on the how. After catching an earlier train back to Fairfield from the city, she decided driving aimlessly around the suburbs would give her enough time to build up the courage to return home while working on a few comebacks should she be grilled relentlessly by her mother over her night-time nattering.
Yet, no amount of time would alter the fact that she exclaimed, Tony, I love you.
She couldn't take those words back; she didn't want to.
They were her truth; she had so desperately wanted to tell Tony since his brief fling with Frankie ended. And yet she held back. Fears of going first, opening her heart and baring her innermost private thoughts without reciprocation tore any assurances of a possible relationship between her and Tony to shreds. In her mind, at least.
But there was a glimmer of hope. Feelings. Tony said it himself. They had feelings towards each other. And in their own roundabout way, they would work it out together.
Angela crossed her arms, rubbing her hands up and down vigorously, taking in the star-peppered sky. It's such a beautiful night, so romantic with all the twinkling stars above. The perfect time for a walk in the park, holding hands, stealing kisses in the shadows. If I were dating someone, that is. If Tony and I were dating… If… oh, who am I kidding? Tony and I will never happen – give it a rest Angela! But she couldn't. Longing for what could be whispered through her. Reminders of his birthday hug lassoed her body; how she wished he had waited until they were outside for a warm embrace. She would have never let him go.
"You cold Angela?" Tony noticed her red coat slung over her arm. "Put your coat on. Here I'll help you."
"Huh? Uh… it is a little chilly. I – I suppose I should. I forgot I was holding it." I'll end up wandering into traffic if I don't stop fantasising about him! Tony delicately slipped the coat over her shoulders. She dug her arms into the long sleeves, feeling warmer almost instantly. "Thank you," Angela replied with a small, gracious smile.
They walked a little longer in silence. Angela kept her eyes focused on the ground, embarrassment around her sleep talking yet to reach a level acceptable enough to put behind her. Not to mention dodging the odd deep crack or rock before breaking a heel or worse, taking a massive tumble on the ground. At least Tony's here to pick me up if I fall.
Like he always is.
"So, I'll see you at home, then?" Tony asked as they neared their vehicles. He decided to park next to her Jag once he recognised it from across the street during his search. He fished for the van keys in his back pocket and unlocked the door.
"Sure." Angela unlocked her car and climbed inside. Home. Oh boy. Time to face the music.
Tony rested his arm on the Jag and leaned in as Angela put her seatbelt on. "I'll follow. Ya know, just to make sure. Because I don't wanna have you go MIA on me again."
"I won't, promise." The Jag's engine purred as Angela turned the key.
Tony nodded with a chortle, giving Angela a light, friendly punch to the shoulder. "Anyway, I know you'd never turn down a slice of my chocolate fudge cake. Or two."
"Me and my sweet tooth! Your cake always hits the spot." She paused and then asked, "Maybe I could blow out some more candles?" Although the candle in the bowl of beer nuts was a lovely gesture from Joe the bartender, her inner child strongly favoured blowing out candles on Tony's homemade cake.
Tony excitedly replied, "Do you want a do-over and make another wish? Anything for you Angela. Hey, it's your party after all. Wish away!" He fist-pumped the air, scrunching his face in a wild grin.
Angela shook her head, biting her lip and spoke softly, "No, no, just for a little bit of fun. I'm happy with the wish I made. And if it comes true, well, all my dre – I'd be over the moon." She held her breath, joy blooming within. Oh Tony, do you know what you do to me? Even in the dim, that cockeyed smile gets me every time. I'm in trouble…
"Tony?" she continued, "Thanks for looking out for me. Not many housekeepers would drive all over town searching for their boss."
Tony shrugged it off with a smile. "I'm not just any housekeeper."
"I know."
Tony followed closely behind Angela on their way back to Oak Hills Drive. He tuned in a late-night jukebox radio show but released a small groan and turned it off partway through 'All I Have to Do Is Dream' by The Everly Brothers to unclutter his thoughts.
If only Angela hadn't overhead Mona and I discussing her sleep talking. He clenched his jaw, gave the steering wheel a few solid taps with the palm of his hand.
Why couldn't her sweet talking be about anything else instead of the most intimate details of her psyche? Work. Food. Current events, even. Anything but love. Or me. Or a combination of the two.
If only he could express to Angela his attraction for her was a raging flow of electrons, rather than being so circuitous about it all. An unspoken, mutual understanding between two people… that's us to a T. And A. Hah. Funny. No, not funny. What are ya doing to Angela, Micelli? What are you doing to yourself?
Blame for how the day panned out weighed heavily upon Tony's shoulders. This is all because of me and my big mouth. I shoulda nipped my conversation with Mona in the bud when I had the chance. Ughgh. He rubbed his eyes, tired and deflated. A birthday was usually a happy, joyous occasion. And Angela was not one to shy away from a birthday. She relished in them. She treasured them.
Yet, he had planned the perfect surprise party for her and she wasn't there.
Indeed, Angela was in another world. For the first time, she felt helpless against her own mind, betrayed by the escape of her thoughts and feelings without her consent. I can run advertising agencies, oversee the creative teams, manage multiple offices and still have my finger on the pulse of it all. She had the ultimate authority on everything personal and professional in her life, and it was all at her discretion. Until now. Right in this moment, she felt so stripped of her control, so exposed, it obscured her direction on what to do and where to go next.
She caught a glimpse of Tony's van in her rear-view mirror and wondered how he really, truly felt about her subconscious profession of love.
Because Angela knew precisely how she felt about him.
It was an attraction as fierce as a lion's roar, but as delicate as the wings of the hummingbird.
As blinding as the flash of a lightning strike illuminating the grey morning sky, yet as dusky as a winter's twilight.
As familiar as old friends holding hands with all the innocence of two teenagers falling in love for the first time.
He's everything I've ever desired in a man. And everything I didn't realise I needed.
But the path was gnarled with complications.
I'm his boss. And from her experience, mixing business with pleasure was fraught with the risk of ending badly, hurting everyone involved. Angela did not want to lose him as a friend. She also did not want what could be to slip away because neither were prepared to let their guard down.
The neighbours would have a field day if we started dating. Whispers when she walked by, gossip – whether it be true or not – running rife, private information filtering into the school, the PTA, her social circles… the news spreading as fast as a splotchy, contagious rash. In reality, there would be no wrongdoing. She was divorced; he was widowed. There would be no 'affair' to speak of, except that of the heart. And the only two hearts that matter belong to Tony and I. Diane Wilmington she was not.
Can I satisfy him, will I be enough? Angela's insecurities cast long shadows. With one failed marriage already under her belt, she wondered whether she would live up to Tony's expectations should they enter a romantic relationship. There were men who despised being second fiddle to a woman, intimidated by success. Would Tony grow tired or bored, or worse, fall out of love with me?
So many questions hung in the vacuous void, their answers lost in the unknown. To shed the self-doubt of interrogation within herself, Angela ceased the questions to look elsewhere, for the real answer was right in front of her. Actually, he was driving behind her in a beat-up van.
Perhaps, the only answer she needed was Tony.
The hunky housekeeper who swept her floors for four years had swept Angela completely off her feet.
I'm not going to let him go.
Tony and Angela parked their vehicles in the driveway. The house was in darkness except for the porchlight. Meeting at the front door, Angela kept her head down, pacing, fingers comparable to the wriggling tentacles on an octopus. Come on, Angela, stop it! Pull yourself together. Anxiety bubbled up from within. She had faced many tough clients in her life and had always been cool and confident. Now, she would have to face her family, which quite frankly, was more daunting than a boardroom of stern, sullen businessmen.
"It's time to make your entrance, birthday girl."
Angela reached for his arm. "Tony, what am I going to do? What are the kids going to say? What's mother going to say?"
"I'll handle it. Just go in there, smile and pretend nothing happened. I'll get the door." Tony turned the door handle. He took one more look at Angela. Her eyes, large like saucers and glistening in the shadows, tugged on his heart.
"I can't do this, Tony," Angela sputtered. "All I want to do is put on my bunny slippers, my favourite pair of flannel pyjamas and eat my way through a tub of butterscotch brickle."
Tony clicked his tongue. "Hey, you got this, Angela." He pulled her close for a hug, holding her until he felt the tension in her body subside. She relaxed in his arms, breathing deeply with her head nestled against his shoulder. This feels so nice, so, ohhh… Tony knows how to calm me down. And he smells incredible, a mix of Tide and that new cologne he bought, all citrusy and spice. I could conquer the world in his arms. Gosh, I don't want this to end.
"It's time to go inside. Remember, you have nothing to be ashamed about. Your family would never say or do anything to hurt you, because we lo – like you very much," stated Tony, thorned by the tiny four-letter emotion that was unconsciously blossoming between them.
Angela lifted her head to look at him. "Just 'like'?" She probed Tony's 'love' correction with light-hearted curiosity, for she knew exactly what he struggled to say.
"That was a stutter, Angela. It happens from time to time," Tony replied cynically, then exhaled, a reticent smile upon his lips. "You know what I mean." Why do I get so tongue-tied?
"Yeah, I do."
Tony cleared his throat, preparing to project his voice to alert the waiting partygoers they had arrived. "Angela, it's so good to be home!" he shouted.
Tony flung the door wide open. "SUR –"