[ Part Fifteen ]
Although the impending confrontation with his ex-wife and her husband as well as the inevitable dark looks he would receive from numerous members of what had once been his family made him nervous, Andy couldn't help but glance at Sharon Raydor from time to time as they walked towards the hotel. Her hair was wavier than usual, draped elegantly over one shoulder, and she wasn't wearing her glasses. And then there was the dress. It was certainly not the one he had pointed out to her in the shop almost twenty years ago, because he knew that someone like Sharon would never be seen out and about in a dress from the nineties, a decade that wasn't exactly known for its fashion's subtle elegance. It was close enough, however, even though the shade of violet - lavender, he corrected himself - was less flashy and closer to gray than to purple. The dress had a clever cut, leaving one shoulder bare while the flowing fabric - silk? - was draped elegantly over the other, not showing off any cleavage but tight enough to give a good idea of what was underneath. The skirt, reaching down to her knees, was tight but flowing, moving against her legs ever so slightly with every step she took. From the moment she'd opened her door for him, he had been longing to push all of that hair away from her bare shoulder and kiss her there. But then, of course, that would have been completely inappropriate.
"It will be fine, Andy." Her voice was low and soothing, her fingers just brushing the back of his hand. He looked up at her and paused, the entrance far too close for his liking.
"Did you bring your gun with you?" he joked lamely, making her purse her lips and turn her head with a little smirk.
"I don't think physical violence will be necessary," she said sweetly, the sparkle in her eyes chasing away some of his gloom. "Anna will be so happy to see you."
He suddenly found his polished shoes immensely interesting. "Thank you for doing this for me, Sharon."
"Andy." He looked up at her and found her closer than expected, her hand now resting on his arm, her thumb caressing him through the layers of his clothing. "You would have done the same for me, remember?"
He glanced over at the entrance where his least favorite former sister in law had turned up, heavy and dressed in an orange monstrosity of a gown, her tiny, mousy-looking husband in tow. He didn't mind stalling their own arrival there for a bit. Back then he would have done anything for Sharon and that had never truly changed, he mused. He wouldn't have even refused her in between when he had slowly worked himself up to hating her. He had been such a wreck, he remembered, which had made Provenza hate Sharon once he had told him the story. His partner's hatred, he knew, had fueled his own, had allowed him to make himself believe that he really did feel that way for her. And yet here they were, all those years later, together again outside the office - just Andy and Sharon.
He could still see the young woman he'd first met in her face, in her eyes especially. She was even more guarded than before, but also a lot more self-confident. Her strength was visible in the way she held herself, in her gaze and in her ability to look people directly in the eye. Something had happened to her since they'd had said goodbye to one another. He had changed, too, and yet the changes in both of them seemed to - once again - make them a perfect match. Maybe it was inevitable, he thought as he led her into the reception area. Maybe that was the curse of their lives: Being perfect for each other but never being able to be together despite it.
He greeted his ex-wife whose gaze softened when Sharon complimented her on her dress with a sincere smile, awkwardly shook Steve's hand and then sat down next to Sharon. The ceremony was beautiful and for the first time he managed to find some good in spending a fortune on that wedding. Anna was positively glowing, her lips permanently curved into a bright smile that reminded him of her mother back when he had still been able to cause happiness in her. In that moment, Sharon reached over and squeezed his hand, smiling at him. Professional distance was uncalled for here and although they both knew that they were living on borrowed time, he found a way to enjoy it. He saw the curious glances all around. Andy with a woman his own age. What the hell has happened? He could hear the voices in his head, but he didn't really mind as long as she was there, pacifying and charming everyone who crossed their way.
Dinner was served and he watched her eat, slowly and carefully not to spill anything and stain her dress. He admired her fingers that curled elegantly around the stem of her wine glass as she took measured little sips from time to time. She smiled at him when he ordered cranberry and soda, the look shared between them opening up a realm of memories, some painful, but most of them sweet. It felt strange to him how the human mind could store away a particular bunch of memories, a time in one's life and even after years of trying not to think about it, the same feeling accompanied them.
It felt like a true story that had never really happened.
When he looked at Sharon he saw so many different women. The young hurt mother he'd first connected with, the icy bitch from FID whose little smirks and waves were condescending but still sexy and the confident now older woman who knew her place in life and liked the fact that the stage was all hers. It was confusing and fascinating and sometimes he wondered whether he was the same to her. But then again, she seemed to see through everyone nowadays. Maybe she always had.
"Are you okay, Andy?" Her hand was on top of his now, her touch warm and comfortable. He leaned slightly into her to allow the waiter to remove his empty plate and squeezed her hand back, suddenly aware of the people around them watching and probably judging. She seemed to have caught up on his unease because she looked around, causing several people to abruptly turn their heads. She smirked and leaned into Andy a little more, a strand of her hair tickling his cheek.
"Everyone seems a little curious about us."
She wore a different perfume nowadays, he had discovered that a while ago, but her natural scent hadn't changed. It was still the same: crisp yet sweet. Andy thought back to the night after the Christmas party when he had realized with quite some chagrin that she had forgotten her suitcase in his car. For more than just a few seconds, he had considered just driving off, but then he had taken the damn thing back to her condo. He remembered feeling the faintest bit of amusement at the horrified look in her eyes when he had shown up on her doorstep. How it had gotten from an awkward conversation to having sex with her on her new couch he wasn't sure, not even in retrospect. He remembered the scent of her skin, the feeling of not caring much about what she got out of it. Maybe desire wasn't so much what had led them to devouring one another back then. Maybe he had done it because it gave him power over her, if only for a moment. For all those years he had gotten by by making himself and everyone else believe that he hated her. And it had been easy to hate her then. She had probably never changed, just found a different facade to present. And whenever he was allowed a glimpse behind it, he couldn't pretend anymore. Now he had no defenses, he thought. Here he couldn't hide behind his rank or behind protocol. Hatred had been out of the question for a while now and he could hardly rip her clothes off and have sex with her here. He was beginning to feel uncomfortable with her because she made him feel helpless once again. Helplessly enchanted by her, more like.
One of his ex-wife's cousins addressed Sharon over dessert, making the sort of casual small talk that Andy never seemed capable of. He didn't remember much about him except his name and the fact that he was an entertainment lawyer. And entertain he could, he observed, his teeth now slightly gritted as the other man told a humorous story about a client. Sharon laughed, the sound warm and a bit reminiscent of a purring cat. He couldn't tell whether she was just being polite and instant jealousy welled up inside him.
What was it about Sharon and lawyers?
"Hey. Um, sorry to interrupt. Is Sharon not here?"
Andy looked up from the report he had been proof-reading and found himself faced with Jack Raydor, the man he was still unable to reconcile with the ghost of twenty years ago. For so many years he had been holding on to the image he had once seen in a photograph in Sharon's office. Before the alcohol and time had wrecked their own sort of havoc on his face, he had been extremely attractive. Now he had gained weight, his face looked a little bloated and the many lines around his eyes were emphasized by the unhealthy bags underneath them. Andy should have felt gleeful at the discovery that Sharon's husband had obviously not aged well, but somehow he felt nothing at all when he looked at him.
"She's taken the kid out for lunch. In fact, everyone's gone," Andy said evenly.
Provenza had given him dirty looks as he had begun to pretend to have always liked Jack Raydor. Especially in front of Provenza it was a pointless little act, he knew. His partner knew very well how much Andy had loathed the man back in the days. Acting like that wasn't true was happening for Andy's sole benefit and they both knew it.
"Oh, well. I'll just have to wait for them then." Jack sat down in Provenza's chair and stretched his legs, folding his arms in front of his chest. Andy regarded him for a moment. He had never really interacted with the man before and it felt weird to have him sitting across from him now. Jack Raydor had been so important to him for years, yet he didn't even know him.
Jack cleared his throat and grinned at Andy in a friendly, charming way that was oddly disarming. Andy almost had to remind himself that he despised the guy.
"She is doing really well in this new job, isn't she?" he asked.
"Yeah," Andy replied cautiously. "She's great."
"And with the kid," Jack went on, his gaze fixed at a point behind Andy, looking contemplative. "Are you married?"
The question seemed too sudden and way too personal, but he answered it anyway. "Not anymore."
Jack let out a puff of air, the sound startling Andy in the midst of the silence surrounding them.
"Yeah, me neither. Not really, anyway." He held up his hand and pointed at the ring glinting on his finger, the matching band Andy had never even once seen Sharon wearing. Jack took it off with some difficulty and turned it between his fingers. "It's strange seeing her so distant," he mused and Andy felt a little appalled due to the fact that he was talking to one of his wife's subordinates so openly about her personal business.
"We've gone through some really rough times together, you know." Andy's uneasiness was beginning to turn into a lethal mixture of embarrassment and anger. Even after all this time he had no intention of listening to Jack's tales of his marriage to Sharon. "Back in the day I spent a few months in rehab. Had been drinking, you know. Little kid at home and the stress of the job. You know what it can do to a man." He shrugged, seemingly without regret. It was the thing about Jack Raydor that fascinated Andy the most. He wasn't a man who was haunted by his past mistakes. Somehow he didn't seem bothered by them, didn't seem to feel the need to atone. And still he wasn't ruthless. He seemed to genuinely feel for Sharon, but was never able to get past his own egoism. It was like watching an accident happen over and over again. Now for the first time it was beginning to dawn on Andy how difficult it had been to be married to Jack Raydor.
"She almost divorced me back then," Jack went on and Andy listened, not interrupting the other man well against his better judgment. "I guess the only reason why she didn't was that she was pregnant with our daughter at the time. But, you know, things were never the same after that."
There was a moment of silence until he continued. "You know what the worst thing is, really?" Andy didn't want to guess. Actually, he didn't even want to know, yet he sat frozen, listening to Sharon's husband pouring his heart out to him. It felt almost surreal.
"In the end, I left her. I understand that she told everyone right down to her best friend that she had thrown me out, but that's not true. I just couldn't take her criticism anymore one day and I walked out on her."
Andy gritted his teeth. He was so angry that he felt ready to plant his fist squarely into the other man's jaw.
"Anyway, I think I'll get a snack while I am waiting. Can I get you anything?" Andy shook his head numbly, his nails digging into his palms as he watched the other man walk out.
At some point, the lawyer had floated away, disappeared into the crowd somehow, leaving Andy with Sharon who was picking the strawberries out of her dessert, claiming she was too full to eat the panna cotta they came with. He felt a little drowsy, catching himself reminiscing about the past every few minutes. He thougt back to when Sharon had braved the onslaughts of rain to drive his hung-over ass all the way to San Diego to attend his daughter's birthday party. He remembered the ambivalence of that day. The rain, the grey skies, the estrangement from his children and then the warm interior of Sharon's car, her hand in his and the shapes blurring outside, as if the hostile world was taking a step back, laying off him for a while when he was with her.
Sharon smiled when he led her to the dance floor and he took in the lines around her eyes that had appeared since he had last looked at her. Really looked at her, he corrected himself. Sharon wasn't shy under his gaze the way she would have been twenty years ago. She was calm, her hand on his shoulder and her hips almost touching his as they were swaying to a flowing, gentle song he didn't recognize. Their being here together after all those months of trying to be co-workers with all the boundaries that brought along should have felt awkward at least. Maybe wrong even. Instead it felt familiar and comfortable. He felt her lean into him more as they swayed, barely moving from their spot at the side of the dance floor, leaving centre stage to the younger crowd and to Andy's aunt Maude who was wearing a flowery dress that would have best been described as a crime against humanity.
For a moment he pondered the feeling. How could something forbidden feel so good? But then it struck him. They would never be truly estranged, no matter what happened. He had tried so hard to hate her and she had made it easy for him, shooting him dark glances that didn't let him see past the veil in her eyes, delivering snarky remarks at every turn and presenting the cold facade of the bitch from FID he was trying to convince himself that she was. But all those deceptions he had been trying to build had been temporary, covering up a truth that he had yet to face. They had laid the foundation for what was between them a long time ago. Had inadvertedly interwoven their lives, not knowing what it would entail. The signs were still there. He was still drinking cranberry and soda, she was still making his tomato sauce - if Rusty could be believed. And even though they weren't dancing closely like this in their working lives, he knew they were performing a very different, very pointless sort of dance around their feelings. He looked down at her head, watched her hair flow over her shoulders, the color of liquid caramel in this light. His hand trailed down her bare arm and she looked up at him with a smile, cocking her head slightly.
"What is it?" Her voice was soft, barely heard over the music.
He could not possibly put into words what he had just admitted to himself. For once, he had no idea how to phrase it for fear of sounding like an idiot and also, he flat out refused to say anything that might snap her out of her mood. She looked a little dreamy even, a look he wouldn't have associated with her twenty years ago, let alone now that he worked with her on a daily basis. Maybe she really did like weddings.
"I was just wondering," he said uneasily, feeling alien inside his own skin. "Have you ever finished Life of Brian?" It was the first thing that came to mind and he was almost sure she'd roll her eyes and shake her head at him for that. Instead a smile broke on her face, her eyes sparkling with barely contained laughter.
"No," she said and Andy felt her shoulder blade lift under his hand on her back as she shrugged playfully. It was a most intriguing sensation that triggered his desire to run his hand along other parts of her body. He regretted now not taking his time with her that fateful Christmas three years ago, but then he hadn't been able to think straight, still caught up in his feigned hatred of her, unable to understand the struggle inside him. They had tried watching the movie for the second time that night, but he had fallen asleep at some point, his troubled mind shutting down against the emotional overload.
"I fell asleep that night, too," she finally said then leaned in a bit, flirty even. "I have many regrets." Her voice was barely more than a breath caressing his cheek. "but that is one of the worst."
He couldn't help but grin, feeling intoxicated for the first time since he had stopped drinking.
"Maybe we should watch the rest of it together some time," he said carefully. "It would probably help get rid of some of your regrets."
For a moment her smile dimmed, a familiar sadness invading her expression. Then she leaned into him again, allowing him to lead her across the dance floor.
Sharon winced deeply at the sound of the wardrobe door being slid shut with some force. She turned around on her heel in what was supposed to be a menacing turn but ended up looking a little goofy with her bare feet on the carpet. Her best friend was not usually known to use force against inanimate objects, so she was a little surprised as to what she owed his sudden show of exasperation to.
"Gavin?" she asked, her voice a low growl. She was nervous enough as it was and didn't need any more discouragement. The younger man stood, studying her with a grave expression, his thumb and forefinger resting under his chin and on his cheek respectively as he regarded her thoughtfully.
"I hate to say it, Princess, but you have absolutely nothing to wear."
Sharon gave him a quizzical gaze and pointed at the elegant dark blue dress hanging outside her closet.
"Armani doesn't make nothing to wear," she pointed out, earning not even as much as a chuckle from her usually delightfully ludicrous friend.
"I think, Sharon," he said, walking towards her with the confident, slightly eccentric stride he usually adopted during his closing arguments. "that you do not understand. This is your turning point."
"My what?" She lifted both brows. "Turning points only make sense when you have something to turn to, Gavin." The words sounded a little more dramatic than she had intended and she braced herself for his mocking reaction by folding her arms in front of her silk-clad body, feeling small and insignificant in her beige dressing gown, her hair only half done and her make-up looking ridiculously exaggerated when worn with sleepwear.
"What you can now turn to is six foot tall, salt and pepper haired and sometimes unbelievably daft."
"I don't follow you," Sharon said stubbornly.
"I think you do. You're going to his daughter's wedding with him, for Christ's sake!" For some reason, Gavin seemed rather upset now, his hands gesticulating all over the place. Sharon was beginning to feel a little unsettled herself.
"As his buffer," she explained hurriedly, it sounding stale even to her own ears. Damn those lawyers, she thought, they could make you feel like an idiot if they wanted to. Especially when, like Gavin, they knew each and every one of your secrets.
"Sharon." Gavin softened and closed the distance between them, grabbing both of her hands in his. The touch was reassuring and warm, but she could also feel him tremble with excitement. "This is your chance to make this right. You two have been dancing around each other like two lovestruck puppies. You need to do something about it."
She opened her mouth to object, but Gavin silenced her. "I know you're in denial. You have been for two decades, but here's the thing." He let go of her hands to raise his forefinger in a patronizing gesture. "You need a fairy godmother."
He let the words stand like that for a moment, making Sharon shake her head in disbelief.
"Excuse-?" But he didn't let her finish. Instead he clapped his hands twice, causing the door to open. Rusty stood there, looking both bored and a little amused, holding out a zipped-up clothing bag.
"Thank you for finally releasing me, Gavin," he said in a deliberately annoyed voice. "I thought I'd have to hang out in the hallway forever."
"Shush, boy," Gavin said, waving him away. "This is my show."
Rusty shook his head and shuffled out. "If you want me to call my security detail in to remove him... you know where to find me."
"The sass of that child!" Gavin muttered, but then seemed to remember what he was holding. With a bright smile, he held the bag out to her. "Open it."
Sharon knew that resistance was futile when it came to one of Gavin's elaborate schemes and so she dutifully unzipped the bag only to discover a beautiful silk dress in a deep shade of lavender.
"Oh Gavin, that's beautiful!" She looked up at his beaming face, finding that his earlier annoyance could have only been an act.
"And it's lavender." His eyebrows were dancing now. "The color of missed opportunities."
"I thought it was the color of femininity, grace and elegance."
"Well, other things that could be associated with you, yes. But that? Back then you bought the black dress and went to that wedding alone. Now you're going to a wedding with Andy in the lavender dress you've been supposed to wear all along."
Her breath caught in her throat. "How do you even know that?" she exclaimed, both endeared and slightly crept out.
"I know things were getting fuzzy for you after white wine number five, but you told me every detail of your epic love story with Andy Flynn that night that you finally decided to come clean about it."
She shook her head. "Gavin, I can't do that."
"You must," he said sternly. "Don't go on about the rules. We both know being in a relationship with a subordinate is not forbidden. Now, I get that you didn't want to be discovered having an affair with one of the team while you were still proving yourself, but what's really keeping you now that you have done that?"
Sharon turned away from him, her fingertips running over the smooth fabric of the dress. "It's been so long, Gavin. We have both changed."
"You know what, darling? I think you're just scared to ruin the most romantic story you've ever had in your life by trying again and screwing it up. Or worse: Finding out that the only real thing between you two was the dramatic ending."
His words were spoken lightly, but they chilled Sharon to the core. She turned around again, suddenly feeling vulnerable.
"I would like to quote a movie here, Princess." She didn't understand while Gavin was smiling so brightly after what he'd just said. Starting something with Andy and finding out that they were not, in fact, star-crossed lovers, but just two old idiots who were lamenting the departure of their youth was what she was most afraid of. Gavin snapped her out of her reverie by snapping his fingers. "Here we go, movie wisdom of the day, Sharon. The only thing standing in your way is you."
She shrugged, self-consciously wrapping her arms around herself. "What movie is that?"
"Black Swan," he said triumphantly. "The story of a girl who works hard to be able to achieve her goals, to awaken the sexy, luscious part of herself."
"Gavin, she is schizophrenic and dies in the end," Sharon said dryly.
"You can't win if you don't try, Sharon. You've proven that time and again in your job. Now stop annoying me, go out there and bag that Flynn guy."
She couldn't help but laugh at his now honest exasperation.
"What if it goes wrong?" she asked. "What if I was right to not leave Jack back then?"
Gavin huffed. "Please. Nothing about your marriage with Jack was ever right. Except for those kids of yours, of course."
Sharon turned away, not needing to be convinced of that. She held the dress up against herself, trying to picture the one Andy had wanted her to wear to her cousin's wedding all those years ago. At least she wasn't pregnant with another man's child now.
Gavin had stepped up behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders, looking at her in the mirror over the top of her head, his eyes twinkling behind his glasses. "You do know that I have your divorce papers drawn up in the top left drawer of my desk at work, right? If that marriage is keeping you, I'll file them right away."
She chuckled. "You think I should let my guard down?"
"I think you should push your guard off the watchtower," Gavin replied dryly. "Just so he won't bother you anymore. Except if he is really good-looking. Then you can let me deal with him."
"That escalated quickly," Sharon said.
Gavin ran his hand through her hair and flipped it over one shoulder. "It's time to get ready now, Princess. You haven't left much time for yourself with your impromptu invitation to that wedding."
They were in his car, silence engulfing them. Andy breathed in through his nose, savoring her scent as they drove through the night. The streets weren't busy at this late hour, the twinkling lights of the city sliding past them and the faint roar of other cars the only sound in the distance. It was almost four in the morning, he found with surprise. When they'd left, the party had still been in full swing, but his feet were aching from all the dancing and Sharon looked tired too after the long day they'd had at work.
"I've had a wonderful time, Andy," Sharon told him, her voice soft and low, yet appearing loud and sudden in the silent car.
"Me, too," he said. "You really are a fantastic buffer."
He stopped at a red light and turned towards her, her face half in shadow. Barely illuminated like this, it was easy to imagine that she was still years younger and they were just two young people getting to know each other. There was so much history between them, so many disappointments and so much heartache edged into both their faces. Suddenly he felt angry. Why hadn't they met long before they had? Before the drinking. Before Linda. Before Jack. But maybe then she wouldn't have been who she was, who she had been when he'd first met her. There was the ghost of pain in almost every single one of her smiles, but it what was made her beautiful. What he loved so much about her. She had been let down, had made the wrong decisions, had chosen the hard way and yet she had never lost her light. Every single one of her regrets had shaped her into the beautiful soul she was now.
He wasn't sure who had initiated the kiss, but then his lips were on hers and her hand was cupping his cheek, pulling him into her gently. She hummed as his wet lips covered hers yet again and his hand went around her waist, wanting to pull her closer despite the fact that it wasn't possible with the car console between them. He inhaled her scent, brought his lips to her collarbone for a moment while she buried her face in his hair, running her fingers through the short strands at the back of his head. They were holding on to each other firmly, their hands touching and their lips seeking each other out again. It was the sound of blaring horns that made them come apart, Sharon giggling. He hadn't heard her giggle in years and he felt a smile tugging at his lips, his insides churning as if he was a teenager again. Maybe it didn't matter how old they were or how much baggage their carried around with them. If they could laugh like this in a car at night with a dozen angry drivers behind them at four in the morning, not all was lost.
He wanted to tell her that he loved her, but it seemed to much right now after what was really their first kiss. She seemed to know what he was thinking as her smile was secretive.
"I don't want to go home yet," Andy told her, his free hand gently tracing the outline of her knee.
"I know a place," she said.
The bar was just as he remembered it and that alone baffled him to no end. A casual onlooker would have surely wondered what two elegantly dressed people like them were doing in a seedy hole like this one in the middle of the night. The bartender certainly did as he put down two glasses of cranberry and soda in front of them with a look filled with suspicion, but then he returned to the drunk guy at the bar who was holding on to his glass of whiskey for dear life, mumbling about wanting another. The light was dim, which was just as well since Andy was sure that the bar couldn't look especially inviting in bright daylight. He looked at Sharon who had had some difficulty getting comfortable on the old bar stool in her dress. She reached out and intertwined his fingers with his, running her thumb across the back of his hand. Then she looked up at him, her green eyes the color of moss in this light.
"Is this the right thing to do, Andy?" she asked him, but he sensed that she was not trying to convince him otherwise, she was just seeking reassurance. Maybe the kind of reassurance he hadn't been able to give her the last time, because then he had still allowed himself to be ruled by his anger. Now he felt at peace.
"Because of our jobs?" he asked, but she shook her head.
"No. Because of us. Can this be right after everything that's happened? After how we've hurt each other?" She looked troubled, unsure of herself and he knew instinctively that allowing him to see that part of her was an affirmation of trust in itself.
"We do have a lot of history, Sharon," he said truthfully. "Then again, look where we are."
She looked around, mirth returning to her eyes as she took in the tattered furniture and the dusty liquor bottles behind the bar. Her eyes came back to his and she smiled, brightly and without her usual sadness.
"Right back at the start."
He grinned. "I am not drunk, though."
"And I am not pregnant."
"But back at the start."
They smiled at each other like idiots for a moment, then he took his hand off her thigh that he had put there earlier to steady her with her legs crossed on the ramshackle bar stool. She looked at him quizzically, even a little shocked, but he just cocked his head in his best impression of an aloof charming guy from a film noir.
"So tell me, lady," he said, making her giggle again. "Do you come here often?"
Sharon popped her elbow up on the bar and rested her chin on her hand, rolling her eyes towards the ceiling once before she answered him.
"Now and then..."
The End
A/N: Thank you so much for sticking with me and for enduring the endless wait for this last chapter. I hate writing last chapters and wrapping it all up because I don't want to leave the characters. Thank you for all of your great reviews. I hope you all enjoyed the ending. I had such fun writing this!