The Last Place You Look, page 25
Taylor was cool, aloof. Not in that passive aggressive way that was so obnoxious. No, this was subtle, like Taylor was leery of her. It didn’t aggravate her; it terrified her.
Taylor remained adamant she wasn’t angry, but she didn’t want to talk, either. She just circled back to insisting she had a lot on her mind, which was hard to argue with. And since Julia had plenty to stress about on her own, she didn’t press.
At the top of the list of things keeping her up at night: whether or not to accept the position. She’d burned the week they’d given her to decide, not on scouting out a place to live, even though that was the point of having a whole week. She felt about ninety percent sure she should take it, which really should have been enough. That remaining ten percent, though, it stole her breath and made her think she was getting a peek into what panic attacks must feel like. Worse, it sneaked up on her, catching her at work, in the shower, even in the middle of the night.
The morning of her deadline dawned gray and rainy. It was dramatic to say so, but it matched her mood perfectly. Taylor had spent the night, but they’d ended up watching a movie and not even having sex. Not that they always had to have sex, but they kind of always did. Well, until last week.
She worked through her cycle of what-ifs, confirming they all remained. She studied Taylor and tried to keep her heart from aching. Keep herself from wanting to chuck the whole idea of leaving, even temporarily.
It was unlike Taylor to still be asleep, but maybe she’d been sleeping like shit, too. She kissed Taylor softly and nuzzled her neck. Taylor’s arms wound around her and pulled her close. Julia let herself sink into it. It felt like home.
But just as she let herself sigh, Taylor’s body stiffened. Like she’d woken all the way up and realized what she was doing. It reminded Julia of the stilted affection she got from Erica toward the end.
Taylor kissed the top of Julia’s head and released her. “Good morning.”
“Morning.” Julia blinked away the tears that pricked at her eyes. She was overreacting.
“I’ll do coffee if you want to jump in the shower.” Taylor sat up without waiting for an answer.
“Sure.”
Taylor got up and Julia ordered herself to pull it together. Taylor was in a funk. Given that Julia had kept something from her, it shouldn’t surprise her. But it also shouldn’t cause panic. Funny how telling herself that didn’t seem to do much.
She showered and dressed. She found Taylor in the kitchen, already in work clothes and staring out the window over the kitchen sink. “I put yours in a travel mug so you could take it with you.”
On any other day, it would be a thoughtful gesture. She and Taylor would have gotten frisky in the shower and she’d be in danger of being late to work. Today, it was like Taylor couldn’t get rid of her fast enough. “Thanks.”
“So, are you going to give me the specifics or am I going to have to ask?”
Julia stared at the mug and chewed the inside of her lip. “I haven’t technically accepted it yet.”
“What?” Taylor’s voice held accusation.
“I have until today, I’m not putting them off or anything.” Stalling, yes. But she was doing it in her officially sanctioned time frame.
“That seems kind of pointless, doesn’t it? It’s not like you haven’t decided.”
Julia didn’t answer right away. Not that she wanted to hedge, but she wasn’t sure how much of her waffling to subject Taylor to. Especially after the damage she’d already caused. “It’s just, it’s a really big decision.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
Although she’d used that exact word herself to describe her current state, she bristled at Taylor flinging it at her now. “I’m not.”
“I hope you aren’t having doubts because of me.”
Well, yeah. Duh. Instead of saying that, she went with, “It’s a lot of things.”
“You wouldn’t have applied for it if you didn’t want it.” Taylor shook her head. Her tone made it hard to tell if she was encouraging Julia or accusing her.
“How many times do I have to tell you I didn’t think it through? Perhaps you haven’t noticed this is the pattern of my life. Dive in headfirst, worry about silly things like logistics and regrets later.”
Taylor huffed out a breath. “You’re selling yourself short again.”
“I’m working on it. It’s not the sort of thing you can flip a switch on.”
“I know.” Taylor sighed again. This one sounded more defeated than anything else. “Look, it’s an amazing opportunity. It will probably help you grow as an artist, and it will be a great bullet on your résumé for growing your business.”
Julia nodded. They were the points she’d made to herself when she wasn’t busy kicking herself for maybe ruining what she and Taylor had. “You know that’s my end goal, right? Being here, having a business.” She swallowed. “Being with you.”
“I do know.” Taylor’s voice didn’t hold the same conviction as her words.
“And keeping it from you, even for the reasons I did, was totally dumb. And I’m sorry.” God, was she ever sorry.
That seemed to soften her. “I know that, too. Take the position. Kenota isn’t going anywhere. I’m not, either.”
More than any encouragement or tough love, the simple statement melted her. “How did I get to be so lucky?”
“I think it was the day you mastered beautiful and clueless at the hardware store.”
Despite being on the verge of tears a moment before, Julia laughed. “That’s what did it, huh?”
“That was my in. I stayed because you’re smart and funny and caring and really, really good in bed.”
She laughed again. “I really am sorry.”
“And I really do believe you.”
Julia nodded.
“If we’re going to be together, we have to trust each other, though. You know?” Taylor looked right at her.
“Yeah. It’s not that I don’t trust you.” More like she didn’t trust herself.
“Choosing not to confide in me is kind of a trust thing, even if that wasn’t the motivation.”
Taylor was right. “I won’t do it again.”
“Good. Now call them and accept the position.”
She might sound more resigned than excited about it, but it was exactly what Julia needed to hear. They’d find a way to make it work. “I will.”
“Now go. You’re going to be late for work.”
She glanced at the clock. Taylor was right about that, too. Damn it. She crossed the room and gave Taylor a kiss. Not quite back to normal, but an improvement. At this point, she’d take it.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Julia stood in the doorway and looked around. To call it an office would be generous. The entire space couldn’t have been more than a hundred square feet. It held a worktable that took up at least half the available floor space and three mismatched chairs. And it was all hers.
She’d been in New York exactly two days. Things with Taylor had sort of settled back into some sense of normalcy. And Taylor had driven her down with her things and helped her set up the room she’d managed to rent from one of her old retail friends. Taylor had been encouraging, if a bit stoic, and the whole thing left her feeling like a scared kid being left at sleepaway camp for the first time.
And now Taylor was gone and she had an office and students and all these expectations and no idea how it was going to go.
Her first instinct was to snap a photo and send it to Taylor, even if Taylor’s texts since leaving had been more subdued than she would have liked. She took out her phone and found a text from Caroline. How’re the digs? Send pics.
There was also one from Amanda. You’re going to slay. Can’t wait to hear everything.
No message from Taylor.
Before she could swipe to the camera function, the tears started. The magnitude of the last few weeks hit her. Getting the residency, the ensuing weirdness with Taylor, Caroline’s unexpected and unbridled enthusiasm, moving back to the city—everything came crashing down on her at once.
“I know it’s small, but you probably won’t be spending all that much time in it.”
Julia turned to find Sasha regarding her with concern. She wiped her eyes hastily. “It’s perfect. I promise.”
Sasha seemed far from convinced. “I don’t pretend to be an expert, but those don’t look like tears of joy. It might not be the size of your office, but it’s something. Do you want to talk about whatever it is?”
“It feels like a very big deal is all.” Which wasn’t a lie.
“Would you like a minute?” Sasha looked sympathetic, but slightly uncomfortable. The poor woman was probably terrified she’d hired a meltdown waiting to happen instead of a stable professional.
“No, no. I’m fine. I guess I needed to get it out of my system.” Good thing she had so much practice pulling herself together.
“Okay. I just wanted to make sure you had everything you needed.”
The question implied she had a clue about what she would need, which of course she didn’t. She didn’t know what she was doing at all. “I think I’m all set.”
Whether Sasha believed her or simply didn’t want to open the door to potential drama, Julia didn’t know. But she smiled and nodded. “I also wanted to make sure the gala is on your calendar.”
“Gala?”
She handed Julia a program. “It’s our big fundraiser every fall. The foundation board puts it on. Black tie, the whole nine yards. They really like the artists in residence to be there. Donors eat it up.”
“Ah.” She’d gone to plenty of events like that as Erica’s wife. Most of them bored her to tears, but at least she knew how they worked.
“It’s a week from Friday.”
“I’ll be there.” Because it wasn’t like she had plans or any sort of social life here.
“Excellent. Since you’ll have met your fall classes by then, you’ll be able to talk about your students and what they’re working on. It will be great.”
She nodded. That, she could do. Even if she had no idea what her students would be like. Or what they’d be working on. Or what she would wear. “It will.”
Sasha left and Julia spent the afternoon settling into her office and reviewing the previous session’s lesson plans. She had no words for how grateful she was to have them, since she wouldn’t have known where to start otherwise. She met the other artists, spent some time in her classroom, and by the time she was on a subway to her apartment at six, was completely exhausted.
“How was your first day?” Zuhrah, her old friend and now roommate, asked when she walked in the door.
“You mean other than crying in front of my boss? Fantastic.”
“Did your boss make you cry?”
Julia laughed. “No.”
“See? It could have been worse, then.”
They’d not been super close, but that one comment reminded her of how much she’d liked Zuhrah then and gave her confidence the feeling wouldn’t change. “Thanks for that.”
“Anytime. How’re you settling in?”
Julia looked around at the space. It was cozy and cute and everything her modern loft with Erica hadn’t been. “Good. Your place is perfect. I still can’t believe in all the time we worked together I never came to your apartment. I’m a terrible friend.”
Zuhrah shook her head. “We weren’t those kinds of friends. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”
The assertion, delivered without force or ceremony, turned on the waterworks again. Julia sniffed and swiped at her eyes, although it didn’t do much good. “I guess I’m a pathetic one, too.”
“Girl.” Zuhrah grabbed her arm and pulled her into a hug. Not just a friendly hug, either. It was fierce and strong and way better than she deserved.
Despite her best intentions, the whole thing made her cry even harder. “Sorry,” she managed, trying to catch her breath and chill the fuck out.
Zuhrah released her from the hug but held on to both her shoulders. “Want to tell me what this is really about?”
She appreciated Zuhrah’s astuteness, not because she wanted to talk about it, but because her reaction totally didn’t match the situation and would have otherwise been weird. “You don’t want to listen to my drama.”
“Of course I do. You listened to plenty of mine back in the day.”
That, at least, was true. Zuhrah went through several boyfriends, and a girlfriend, during the time they worked together at Tip of the Pen. Julia had no idea what her current status was, but Zuhrah might be just the person to help her make sense of her roller coaster of a love life. “How much do you want to know? Or, perhaps more relevant, how much time do you have?”
“Girl, I got all night.”
They’d talked when Julia reached out to her for possible apartment leads, but other than ironing out the details of her serendipitously open room, they’d not talked about too much else. Julia smiled, suddenly looking forward to catching up for real. “At least let me buy you a drink first.”
Zuhrah grinned. “I know just the place.”
A few minutes later, they sat with dirty martinis at, quite literally, a corner bar. It had dated decor and a neighborhood vibe, kind of like Jeb’s. It was exactly the kind of place Erica wouldn’t deign to set foot in. And since Erica wouldn’t, she never did. How sad was that?
“All right.” Zuhrah nudged Julia’s foot with hers. “Spill.”
Julia shook off the Erica gloom. She told Zuhrah everything—from Erica basically kicking her out of their apartment to rolling up at her dead grandma’s with a U-Haul, from her terrible dates to her few good ones, Taylor coming to her rescue, and everything that transpired after. Up to and including being offered the residency. She left out keeping it from Taylor, because hopefully that wouldn’t have any bearing on things moving forward. Even the abbreviated version came out like a saga worthy of daytime TV.
“Damn.”
Ha. That pretty much summed it up. “Yeah.”
“Why didn’t you take Erica to the cleaners? I would have.”
Julia rolled her eyes. If only. “Prenup.”
“Fucking A.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m glad I never met her.”
Erica’s disinterest had bothered her. Now, it was just one more piece of the whole obnoxious puzzle. “Probably for the best.”
Zuhrah nodded her agreement. “I’m so proud of you.”
Why did people keep saying that? “I’m not sure that’s a situationally appropriate response.”
The comment, a throwback to something their old boss used to say to irate customers, sent Zuhrah into a fit of laughter. “You bet your bra it is.”
Another of Sylvia’s catchphrases, the retort got Julia going. After crying, the giggling that came out had an almost manic quality to it. She took a deep breath and a long sip of her drink. “I pretty much ran home with my tail between my legs because I didn’t know what else to do. Seriously, not brave.”
“But you’re making it work. Killing it, even.”
“Okay, now you’re just blowing smoke up my ass.”
“I mean, I don’t mean to be dramatic, but you’ve turned the worst thing ever into the opportunity of a lifetime. You’ve made some serious lemonade, my friend.”
Zuhrah meant it as a compliment, but Julia fixated on the idea of having the opportunity of a lifetime. Is that what she had? And, if so, was it the residency or falling for Taylor? The residency represented so much more than some professional notch in her belt. It was her chance to do something—be someone—that mattered. All on her own. But, if she was being honest, it all paled in comparison to what she had with Taylor, what she wanted with Taylor.
The fact that Taylor was so far away hit her, again, and tears once again threatened. This time, Julia kept them in check. Enough wallowing. She plucked the olive from her drink and turned the conversation to Zuhrah and the comings and goings of her life.
Zuhrah’s life proved almost as volatile as hers. In addition to making her feel better, it proved the perfect distraction from the crushing homesickness and anxiety about meeting her students. By the time they got back to the apartment, she was beyond ready to crash.
She holed up in her room and called Taylor. Thanks to her pseudo-therapy session, she managed to keep the conversation light. Which was good, really, since the last thing she wanted to do was burden Taylor with her insecurities and doubts. Or let on that all she really wanted was to be curled up on Taylor’s couch with a glass of wine and Taylor’s arms around her and Waylon snoring on his bed.
* * *
Taylor put her hands on her hips. While Chris studied the space, she studied him. “What do you think?”
He nodded slowly. “It’s nice.”
“Nice? Dude, you’re killing me. Shouldn’t a gay teacher have better adjectives than that?”
“Whoa, whoa. Settle down. I wasn’t finished.” The look on his face told her he was more amused than offended. “It’s spacious, but cozy. Great natural light. I’m still sad it’s not Brown’s anymore. Why am I here?”
She’d asked him to meet her, in the space that used to be a quirky used bookstore right on Main Street, but hadn’t told him why. “I’m thinking about opening a shop.”
His eyes got huge. “No shit? Here?”
She tried not to cringe, telling herself his surprise had more to do with her shunning the idea for years than the absurdity of it. “That’s the plan.”
“The space is fantastic and the location is perfect, and I think you should do it.”
“But…” she took a deep breath, “a shop.”
“Where your work becomes the centerpiece and not an afterthought. Where you get to make and sell exactly what you want. Where you—”
“I know, I know. But also where I have to manage staff and, presumably, other inventory.”
“I feel you. Is…” He paused, as though unsure how to word whatever he wanted to say next. “Is this something you and Julia would do together?”
