A/N Thank you so much to everyone for sticking with this and to Bruna, huggsy03 and guests for your kind words!
Thank you to Oldreruns for taking the time to leave comments on so many chapters - I absolutely love everything you write, so it really means a lot!
Things are going to ramp up a bit over the next few chapters, I hope the slow burn build up hasn't been too boring.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and no profit will be made from this. I am just writing for fun.
Monica squinted hard, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth in deep concentration as she sat on the sofa, trying to unpick two of her bracelets that had become hopelessly intertwined in her jewellery box. Her frustration was mounting and as the tangled golden threads fell from her fingers for the third time, she let out a loud sigh and cursed under her breath.
She considered shouting to Pete for help, but she could still hear water flowing from the shower in the bathroom, and besides, she was pretty sure he was less dexterous and possibly even less patient than her.
She was busily getting herself ready for an evening at Javu, the restaurant she had opened with Pete, to much fanfare, around six weeks before, but for the first time she was to visit the establishment as a diner rather than in her usual Executive Chef mode.
Her restaurant venture with Pete had been an astonishing success so far: The soft opening in front of a select group of friends and family, alongside some trusted business contacts and media types, all hand-picked by Pete, had gone smoothly and had buoyed the confidence of the whole Javu team. Very little had needed to be altered, either in terms of service or the menu in readiness for the Official Grand Opening a week later, where Monica and her staff had entertained a carefully curated guest list which had read like a "who's who" of the City: Influential business people, journalists, restaurant critics, even the Mayor of New York, had all been invited along to enjoy the Javu experience. And enjoy it they did: The restaurant had received rave reviews for both food and ambience, and as a consequence had been solidly booked out every night since.
The experience of getting the restaurant off the ground had been both thrilling and exhausting for Monica. Her position as Executive Chef would eventually allow her to take a less active role in the kitchen itself in order to dedicate more of her time to designing menus and dishes, strategic planning and staffing, but in these crucial first weeks of trading Monica had pretty much lived in her chef-whites and had thrown herself wholeheartedly into supporting her kitchen team with a characteristically hands-on approach.
Pete was beginning to get tired of her constant late nights and absence from his bed, and was encouraging her to gradually delegate more responsibility to the capable team she had so carefully recruited. So tonight, for the first time, Monica was to dine at Javu as a customer, leaving her talented and able head chef, Ignacio, to run things in the kitchen.
Monica's friends and family had, of course, all been invited along to both the soft opening and grand official event to support and cheer-lead, but Pete had insisted that they all came along for the meal tonight as well, so that they could all help celebrate Monica's achievements with the woman herself.
Monica picked up the intertwined bracelets from her lap once more with a sigh and continued with her mission to part them. She had not spent much time with her friends, her brother or even with Pete over the past few weeks, and as much as she was looking forward to an evening with them all, she also felt anxious. The truth was, the enthusiasm with which she had immersed herself in her work at Javu had been just as much for her own self-preservation as it had been to give the business the best possible start. Being so thoroughly occupied with the success of the restaurant had proven a welcome distraction from her relationship with Pete and other associated problems.
Monica bit her lip as she thought about Pete. The guy worshiped her, she was left in no doubt about that. He was an attentive partner who spoiled her rotten at every opportunity, whisking her away to Europe, buying her gifts, arranging evenings out for her. The fact that he had provided her with the chance to co-own and run her own dream restaurant conclusively demonstrated that he was completely invested her and in their relationship. Monica was totally overwhelmed by both his generosity and by the trust and commitment he had shown her, but the niggle of doubt about the depth of her own devotion to him was not getting any smaller and she had no idea how to address it. The generosity Pete had lavished upon her was starting to feel like a gilded cage from which there could be no escape, and it filled her with panic.
She genuinely cared for Pete and felt a deep affection for him, and she certainly did not want to hurt him. But if she was absolutely honest with herself, the spark she had always imagined she would feel for her "forever love" was just not there, no matter how hard she tried to ignite it. And she really had tried. For months.
Monica sighed deeply and chewed pensively at her thumb nail. Her eyes squeezed closed.
And then there was Chandler.
It had been a long time now since Monica and Chandler had shared that kiss. No effort to ignite a spark within Monica had been required that night, the moment she and Chandler had crossed that line she had felt a literal eruption of electricity flood her body. It was like nothing she had ever felt before.
Monica exhaled painfully as memories of that night streamed through her mind. She had tried so hard to move beyond what had happened between them, and on occasions she had almost managed to convince herself, along with everyone else, that it was a meaningless, drunken mistake, something that could be entirely forgotten in time.
But here they were, half a year down the line and she had been hopelessly unable to extinguish that flame of desire. Feeling that fire flare up in her ribcage every time Chandler was near merely served to highlight her misgivings about her future with Pete.
Was she in love with Chandler? She wasn't sure. She loved him, of course. He was one of her closest friends and most valued confidantes. He made her laugh, often and with ease; they held each other with mutual affection and respect; he understood and accepted her foibles better than just about anyone else, and nobody knew how to calm and comfort her like he could. They could talk for hours, or they could sit in companionable silence together without a hint of awkwardness. She would do anything for him and she knew he would do the same for her in return. Their relationship really was something special.
But he was engaged to Kathy.
Monica knew only too well that Kathy was suspicious of her friendship with Chandler and would put an immediate end to it if she had the chance. She had also heard from Rachel that after six months of engagement, an impatient Kathy was now beginning to press Chandler to set a date for their wedding, and Monica knew that this would inevitably act as a catalyst, setting in motion a chain of events that would change things between them forever. As soon as Chandler married Kathy, it would only be a matter of time before the couple moved to a new home or even to a new city, they would busy themselves starting a family, and he would begin to drift from Monica's life for good. The thought of this made her feel physically sick and a generated a dull ache in her chest.
But she had no idea how to address this either.
Feeling utterly defeated she threw the tangled bracelets back into her jewellery box and headed into her bedroom to pull on the strappy, midnight blue dress she had selected for this evening's celebratory meal. She struggled for a moment before accepting that she was unable to reach the zipper, acknowledging that Pete would surely be out of the shower to offer assistance soon.
Just as she re-entered the living room, the apartment door opened and there stood Chandler. Monica swallowed hard and she almost rolled her eyes. It was typical of him to turn up like this, like some kind of omen sent by the universe to test her, just as she was in the midst of grappling with these hopeless feelings of confusion. She smiled weakly at her friend, suddenly feeling very exposed by the unzipped dress hanging loosely from her body and she tugged uncomfortably at the fabric.
Chandler gave her a strange smile and a small laugh, wondering why she looked so guilty and embarrassed "Are you OK?", he asked.
"Yeah, I was just waiting for Pete to get out of the shower. I can't zip up my dress" she explained hesitantly.
"Er.. I can do it?" Chandler offered with matching timidity "If you want?"
"Thanks" she said, turning awkwardly away from him to allow him access to the zipper. She felt her breath catch as she sensed his approach and her breast visibly heaved as his fingers lightly brushed against the sensitive skin of her back. There it was. That electrifying spark she could not help but crave. She was sure she heard him inhale sharply too.
"There you go" he patted her shoulder congenially and took a step back from her.
"Nice dress" he told her with a friendly grin, "You look great."
"Thanks" she replied, taking a moment to allow herself to appreciate how handsome he looked in his suit. "You look good too. Err.. Did you need something?" she asked, suddenly realizing he had not explained the reason for his impromptu visit.
"Oh, yeah, Kathy was wondering if you or Rachel had an eyelash curler she could borrow" he recalled.
"Sure," Monica retrieved her makeup bag, which happened to be conveniently close-by on the coffee table, and rummaged inside for the appropriate tool, handing it to Chandler with a business-like smile.
As her eyes met his she saw that he was observing her wistfully. The smile fell from her face and their blue eyes locked intensely for a moment causing Monica to subconsciously hold her breath. This brief spell was soon broken by the sound of the shower being turned off and they both glanced towards the bathroom door.
"OK. See you later. Thanks for this" Chandler backed out of the apartment, gesturing with the eyelash curler.
There were more shuffling sounds coming from the bathroom and then Pete emerged, a fluffy white towel tied around his waist.
"Whoa... looking good Ms. Geller" he told her, admiring her dress. "Who was here? I thought I heard voices?" his eyes glanced around the apartment with interest.
"Oh it was just Chandler. He wanted to borrow an eyelash curler" Monica told him.
Pete raised a skeptical eyebrow.
"For Kathy!" she elaborated with a laugh.
Pete laughed too but his eyes were cool and somewhat inquisitional as they rested on Monica for, what felt like a second too long.
"OK." He said lightly "I'd better go make myself beautiful. Can't have you showing me up".
Monica's smile faded slowly from her face as she watched him wander into her bedroom.
Her eyes closed tightly in anguish. She had absolutely no idea how she was ever going to unpick the mess she was now absolutely sure she was in.