Now
CC hurried to her car, slamming the door behind her. Her heart racing, she allowed herself a few moments to compose. Familiar—entirely too familiar was this feeling, this sense of fear mixed with anger and a dash of hurt. They'd been doing the same dance for so long now that any aberration from its steps felt like an uncomfortable jab; with the added years of history between them, a sense of betrayal now accompanied it.
Nothing had changed: they had never explicitly said what they were and were therefore free to see other people. CC often sensed that Niles wanted to say more or establish something concrete but usually refused to in honor of simplicity and, she intuited, a desire to keep things pleasing for her. And why that was not enough to prove to her that Niles was it, Niles was there, Niles was simply waiting for her, CC could never quite figure out. Their norm was too comfortable and the future too uncertain.
The future now appeared even more uncertain thanks to that damn woman.
Then, of course, CC realized that her unwillingness to commit to anything concrete paradoxically lead to situations such as this, when Niles would find another and CC remained solitary, thanking herself that she'd never allowed anything "serious" to occur. And after all, CC falsely reasoned, if it were so fragile that the appearance of Kathryn could force thoughts of CC from Niles's mind, well, wasn't that just more proof that things were better off unsaid and unrealized?
Still, they had always found their way back to one another, sometimes on the same night of a failed date or an ended relationship. CC could sense the grim victory on behalf of the one being returned to; she hated being on the other side of it but there were few things more gratifying than being the one Niles kept coming back to.
But there was something about this one, something that kindled more trepidation in her. Kathryn presented a worthy opponent, after all—she was one woman who had more history with Niles than CC did. They'd known each other longer. Perhaps they hadn't slept together as much as Niles and CC had, and CC doubted that Kathryn would ever be as imaginative with Niles as she was—but to a woman largely unschooled in areas like relationships and love, time appeared to be the biggest and most important factor of anything.
Gritting her teeth, CC stuck the keys into the ignition and set off for an undetermined destination, thoughts swirling around her head.
…
Niles hopped back from Kathryn so fast that he knew he offended her. She looked at him uncertainly, a smile still playing about her lips.
"Niles, dear, what's the matter?" she asked.
"I…" Niles began, but stopped. What could he say? That he very much did not want to upset the balance he felt he'd recently struck with CC? That after the previous night, he knew, he knew, there was something special between them and he wanted to explore this possibility? That he'd secretly been having sex with his boss's business partner for the past twelve years?
These thoughts flew through Niles's head while Kathryn still stared at him expectantly. "It's a little inappropriate…I wouldn't want Mr. Sheffield to see."
Coward, he snapped at himself as understanding dawned on Kathryn's face and she nodded, turning to hang up her jacket in the closet.
"Ah, Kathryn, there you are! It's a pleasure to see you," Maxwell said as he entered the foyer. He gave Kathryn a perfunctory kiss on her cheek. "Will you be joining us for lunch?"
"I'm not sure—" Kathryn began uncertainly. She looked again at Niles.
"Of course you will, then!" Maxwell said magnanimously. "Niles can set another place for you."
"Of course," Niles said with a smile. "Will Miss Babcock be joining us as well?" Kathryn turned her head rapidly from Max to Niles.
"Ah, no. You know, I'm not sure where she went," Maxwell admitted. He shrugged. "Probably off to the theater." With a happy shrug, he turned and walked off.
For some reason, Niles wished his boss would have stayed. Kathryn stepped closer to him and slid her hand into his. Niles gave her a wan smile and set off for the kitchen, the momentum of his movement separating their hands. He couldn't quite stave off the sinking feeling in his stomach—Kathryn had always been an unsettled bone of contention between the two of them.
Mentions of Kathryn usually evoked thoughts of his other "indiscretions," if they could be so called, throughout the years, just as any word of CC's most recent boyfriend did for her. Whenever this happened, the spirits of the other's dalliances seemed to fill the room, invading any remaining space between them. Their couplings were affected accordingly, usually a less personable interaction where CC would dig her nails a little too hard into him or he'd slide out of her a little too soon after they'd finished. The hurt salved, they returned to their previous states and things resumed normally.
But after last night…Niles sighed inwardly as Kathryn turned to him and gave a bright grin.
…
Years prior, Niles stood in the kitchen for as long as he could stomach it, which admittedly wasn't long. He watched CC, preening in the kitchen and bragging to Nanny Fine about the weekend she was embarking upon with Mr. Sheffield. Something for the industry, blah blah…Niles chose not to pay attention. What did catch his attention: that CC and Maxwell would be holed up in a cottage by themselves for a weekend.
Whatever CC's claims about pretending to flirt with Maxwell to spice things up, this concerned Niles. A weekend away? What would stop Maxwell from suddenly noticing how beautiful CC is or how long it had been since he'd been with a woman? For that matter, then, what would stop CC from giving in? She had no strict ties to anyone and Maxwell presented a handsome opportunity.
Then she waltzed into the kitchen and made a show of retrieving wine bottles…Niles seethed and escaped from the tension-heavy kitchen. Niles momentarily considered asking Fran why she did not seem bothered with the man she actively pursued going away with a woman who appeared to actively pursue him. But he couldn't figure out a casual way to do so and left everything unsaid.
Niles took the circuitous route to the living room—up the back stairs, through the hallways, and down the front stairwell. He continued arranging the shocking amount of food Fran had instructed him to prepare; the feast could surely have fed hundreds and yet only about thirty Fine members promised to appear.
One of these members had just arrived in the form of Fran's famous cousin Sophie. She proved to be all that Fran promised: dressed as scantily as though she were headed to the beach, buxom and beautiful, and something vacant in her eyes similar to Fran's best friend Val. Sophie bounced into the room, her enhanced body parts bouncing for just the right amount of time, and Niles's annoyance with Babcock sublimated into a frisson of interest in Sophie.
He spared no more time for these thoughts, however, as the party kicked into gear and Niles began a continuous loop of the house, ensuring that not too many valuable trinkets were broken or misplaced.
A few times, however, this path ran into Sophie's and the young woman seemed a little taken with the older Brit. At least, that's what Niles suspected; he didn't know how women of her age flirted anymore, though Niles grew concerned that she would throw out her neck if she continued tossing her hair back so vigorously whenever Niles appeared. Niles looked around to discuss this with Fran, perhaps to receive her blessing to pursue this opportunity, but he saw her nowhere. If Niles were truthful with himself, he didn't want her blessing—he wanted someone to reassure him that he would be severing no ties if he did anything with Sophie.
But there were no ties to sever, no strings dangling, no promises he'd be breaking. There was nothing, nothing in the world to stop him from exploring the small curves on his friend's cousin. Niles allowed himself some more time to consider this; he surreptitiously poured himself a shot of Maxwell's finest whiskey and returned it to its hiding place. The liquor burned in his veins, dissolving the fire that CC usually ignited there.
This was how it was supposed to be, Niles thought as he approached Sophie and brazenly slung his arm around her waist. She giggled and crinkled her nose at him and if this did not entirely win Niles over, he at least appreciated that it was supposed to be adorable and whispered something lame and flirtatious in her ear.
This was it: a man free from any shackles or burdens, approaching a good-looking woman and following his baser desires. He had never married; it had been a long while since his last serious relationship. Time was no dictator of relationships; yes, he'd been sleeping with CC for a long time, but that did not necessarily imply that things were serious. If things felt real between them, what did that ultimately mean? Very little to CC, if appearances could be trusted. Was she not currently, at this very moment, in a car with Maxwell Sheffield? Or perhaps they'd already reached the cabin, already uncorked the wine, already looked at each other and appreciated the years of friendship between them with nary an indiscretion, already laughed about how nothing had ever "happened," already marveled at how rare that was, already realized that something could happen and really, it wouldn't mean anything, for Maxwell was single and CC was single, right…
Sophie poked him in the chest and, returned to himself, Niles reached behind him for one of the remaining plastic flutes of champagne. He downed this too, and with it, he washed away the anger that had clouded his face. He looked at Sophie, her auburn hair shimmering with strands of gold, and he tucked it behind her ear. She smiled and slid her hand around to cup his butt, giggling as she did so. And if that giggle wasn't throaty, if the hair wasn't blonde, if the eyes weren't blue, if the curves were a little tighter and more compact, well, Niles wouldn't be the first man to succumb to a younger woman.
Without another word, Niles grabbed Sophie's hand and led her upstairs. She glanced back to ensure that no one was watching but Niles spared no such look: he wanted people to see, he wanted the men to glory in his victory, he wanted the women to gossip and he wanted those words to spread far, far out to a cabin with wine and great views of the lake.
Niles stepped into the first guest room he found; later reflection would suggest to him that he did not wish to desecrate any area in the house in which he had been with CC. Perhaps an inkling of this truth pierced him even now, for he immediately pressed himself against her and kissed her harshly.
Sophie responded quickly and with much enthusiasm. The rapid consumption of whiskey and champagne—as well as the beer he just now remembered he'd drank soon before the whiskey—clouded him a little and smoothed over the edges. He was now operating on more than just anger at CC; it mixed with arousal and determination and self-righteousness and not a little shame to produce something entirely new. And what was this but a new beginning, a fierce declaration of man and freedom and no obligations?
But habit remained the strongest force of all and Niles tore his face away when Sophie nipped at his bottom lip in a way CC never had. No, that was wrong, that didn't feel quite right—but then Sophie reached down and grabbed him and he surged against her hand and Niles plowed onward, hiking up her dress and lifting her thighs to rest against his hips.
He spared no thought for CC as he pulled a condom from his back pocket, as she again reached down and rolled it onto him, as he entered her, as he felt Sophie's arms wrap around his neck and felt her move against him. She displayed an eagerness and a strength that was, again, new to Niles, though he gave little thought to adjustment as he screwed his eyes shut and slid into her again and again.
She squeezed her internal muscles and Niles climaxed, brutally tossed back onto earth. He slid out of her and carefully helped her regain her footing on the floor. She immediately began redressing, her face insouciant, and he turned away to clean himself up.
On the shore of reality once more, Niles felt waves of shame licking his sides until they engulfed him completely. What had just occurred was done with the intent to hurt; even as guilt threatened to choke him, Niles forced himself to face that he wanted CC to find out—hell, he'd wanted her to walk in and see him, even though that would never have happened.
He wanted to cause her pain and that was unprecedented. That was the source of his shame. He was no Puritan; he was half French, for God's sake. Sex between two willing, unattached parties was not a thing of guilt or embarrassment. But sex with the intent to cause harm…Niles hung his head.
"Hey," Sophie said, bucking him under the chin. "Cheer up." She pat his cheek lightly before she ambled happily out of the room, shutting the door behind her.
Niles remained where he stood for a few more moments before his disgust with himself made the air too thick to breathe. He smoothed down his shirt and straightened his tie, following Sophie's footsteps downstairs. When he reached the foyer, he halfheartedly tapped a balloon before grasping it. He tapped it a few times against his palm before sucking the helium from it as he'd seen Brighton doing earlier that day.
Surprise broke through the cloud of his face as he spied Maxwell walking through the front door.
"Good Lord!" his boss cried out.
"What are you doing home?" Niles asked, his voice comically high-pitched but his stomach sinking again. Why wasn't he at the cabin with CC?
"What is going on here? Look at this place. Where's Miss Fine?" Maxwell demanded.
"Oh, she's missing?" Niles asked absentmindedly; he remembered how he hadn't been able to spot her earlier.
"Missing?" Maxwell repeated.
Niles started; that might not have been the wisest word to use. "Keep your voice down, sir, I don't want to alarm anyone."
"This is very strange, Niles. Miss Babcock's gone missing too!" Max explained.
This news startled him enough that he let go of his balloon; it went whizzing off and Niles offered a sarcastic "Yippee!" with his voice still altered by the gas. Maxwell walked off to find out more information about this situation while Niles stood in the foyer by the food table.
His voice fell with his spirits—the one justifying fact of CC alone with Maxwell for the weekend eluded him now. Despite her antagonizing behavior, she ultimately was not where Niles thought she was and therefore was not doing what Niles had assumed she was doing.
The mystery finally solved itself: both women were stuck in the wine cellar. A stroke of good luck patted Niles on the back when CC became trapped for a second time, but this was short-lived. He released her soon after Fran, at least grateful that most of the guests were gone and CC might never have to find out about this.
Fate finally showed itself decidedly not on Niles's side as he escorted CC back through the dining room and one of Fran's aunts from the endless list of aunts, half of whom were actually cousins and not aunts, stopped them. He could hear CC bristling behind him and knew her irritation level had reached a dangerous height; hours stuck with Fran in an enclosed space had wreaked havoc on CC's hair and, presumably, her psyche as well.
"Niles, you old dog!" the woman said with a nasal cackle, pinching Niles's cheek and continuing on into the kitchen.
"What was that about?" CC snapped.
"No idea," Niles replied airily, continuing on through the hallway and into the foyer.
"Niles!" Fran called out, waving her arm unnecessarily. A foreboding sense of alarm washed over him as Fran pranced over to him. "Sophie wanted me to give you this."
Niles took what Fran offered, which proved to be a scrap of wrapping paper. On the blank side, Sophie had scrawled her phone number along with the words In case you ever need cheering up again. As if the note needed to be more incriminating, she'd slathered on lipstick and pressed a kiss next to the number.
He knew CC was reading it over his shoulder, knew she'd put two and two together, and felt her anger mounting even more. He didn't need to look at her; he could practically feel heat emanating from her frame.
Fran winked at him and walked off. With the weight on his shoulders akin to a man facing a firing squad, Niles turned around. Instead of meeting the fire in her eyes, however, Niles only saw the back of her as she exited the house with an almighty slam of the front door behind her.
…
But this was not then—years and years of their back-and-forth games wore on Niles. The pranks, he loved; the insults, he looked forward to; the endless barrage of mild assaults, well, he sought out any excuse to touch her. It was the other games—the ones that only he and CC knew they were playing—that had, somewhere along the lines, ceased to be a game and had become a war.
He couldn't say what it was that forced him to admit this to himself, though Niles suspected it was that the minor victories in their battles felt less like victories and more like another hash mark in a never-ending list. There was no gratification, no satisfaction, no pleasure in the victories; in a way, every victory felt like a defeat.
Niles felt relatively secure that CC harbored no feelings for Maxwell and even more certain that Maxwell had none for her. Niles knew how he felt about her…and yet. And yet.
His conclusion from earlier needed clarification: time was a poor determinant for any relationship, yes, but it at least indicated something. CC, a prime prospect for an Upper East Side marriage, had never sought out another relationship. Niles had never actively pursued any other woman. They had begun their dance twelve years ago. But there was more, infinitely more, tiny little nuances of things that stacked up to mean something when pitted against the twelve years' war between them.
She'd shown up in Bermuda when he knew she'd known that's where he was going. He was her ever-present escort to countless events, galas, dinners, and award shows. She'd playfully kissed him in the office two years ago, pretending she'd thought he was Maxwell, but the joke fell a little flat when their boss hadn't been paying the slightest bit of attention. He took care of her, as much as she'd allow, and she looked after him in her own way (it never escaped his attention that his salary had increased every year of his employment and he had no doubt that Maxwell never knew about it).
So what was it, what still separated them? Niles scoffed at the idea of class distinctions and propriety. Victorian England, this wasn't—CC could be with whomever she wanted, a principle which she demonstrated every time she elected to come to Niles. She'd never ended it, never intimated that she wanted to, never objected when he returned after a momentary sojourn in another direction. So Niles couldn't entirely blame her as the source of his reluctance…
Kathryn re-entered the kitchen and Niles nearly let out a groan of frustration. Here was another example of his spinelessness: a woman who displayed full interest in him and despite Niles's near-repulsion at the thought of it, he never pushed her away. He had never taken the step he needed to, one which would have assuaged CC's fears and relieved Niles of a burden. He was fully capable of his own private means of rebellion and self-assurance, oh yes, he could glom onto the first attractive female who walked by in an attempt to elicit a vocal response from CC or force some sort of action to occur between them—other than the action that usually occurred, that is—but Niles could never say the words that needed to be said.
Taking a deep breath, he looked at Kathryn, at the face he'd once believed he loved, and said, "Kathryn, I'm sorry if I've misled you but…" Niles faltered and he mentally slapped himself. "But I'm not interested in you in that way anymore," he finished.
Kathryn blinked a few times and appeared to reorient herself. Then her face split into a smile and she looked at Niles kindly. "Of course, Niles. I never meant to imply that I was looking for more."
A wave of relief coursed over him and he didn't think to try to hide it. "Are you sure I haven't hurt you? I only—"
"Niles, I haven't seen you in years. I never anticipated that you would wait for me," she replied calmly. She paused and then said, "Are you involved with anyone?"
"No," Niles replied quickly, and he saw a strange look cross her eyes. In his butlerian way of attempting to placate everyone, he went on with, "but you'll still attend Mr. Sheffield's annual party?"
Kathryn smiled again and placed her hand gently on his arm. "Of course, Niles."
Niles returned her smile and set back to work, at least content that he'd fixed one situation.