Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Travis
PRESENT DAY
There’s usually a significant difference between two emotions being felt at once, but today I don’t know if the sudden heat wave washing over me is the feeling of regret or excitement. It could be both. Holding this pen in my hand while Isabella glares at me deserves nothing but both sentiments, which only center me in a gridlock. I take a deep breath as I sign under my name on the left side of the document. A bunch of words occupy every corner of the sheet and each of those words carefully ties me in a bond as soon as this ink touches the paper. Two other signatures occupy the right side, hers and her boss.
The loud noises of mugs on coasters and the variant but soft music being played set this moment in a weird trance. I can’t believe that of all the places Isabella could’ve set this meeting, she chose the only cafe experienced in gossip. It doesn’t really matter to me whether word gets out about us seeing each other on a scorching Monday, but it doesn’t make me feel comfortable either. Who would be? Especially when whispers echo their chatters and eyes spy on their actions.
However, she appears unfazed and remains fixated on me, with her elbows propped on the table and her fingers clasped together under her chin. It might all be in my head, but I can’t seem to focus on anything else but her face. Her perfectly shaped, luminous, all-to-break-my-heart face. One that I have missed as little as I dare to admit it.
I try to focus on a motionless object on the table ahead of me, a cup, a vase, anything at all. But it’s no use. My eyes divert back to her. How could I focus on anything else when she hasn’t uttered a word since she laid the papers in front of me five minutes ago and hasn’t broken eye contact since?
I clear my throat, easing the speechless moment. “There you go.” I slide the document on the table towards her. An enriching smile devours her entire demeanor, and it sends warmth through my chest.
“Ahh, it’s official.” Her voice is upbeat as if she’s on helium and I chuckle. “You won’t regret working with Maurney.” She brings forth her hand to shake. I stare down at it. Is this really happening? Am I actually going to be working with the girl I thought I could never stand in a room with for longer than two seconds?
I guess so. I shake her hand, up and down like a broken machine. We continue to stare at each other and I wonder what’s going on inside her head. Is she as scared as I am? Excited? Thinking about where we go from here? Because that’s what I’m thinking at the moment.
“You’re well aware Maurney’s Auction House isn’t the reason I’m doing this, right?” I let out. Shit . Sometimes, what’s in my head should stay in my head.
Her eyebrows lift, a smile still drawn on her face. I lose speech as we stare at each other, my palms perspiring uncontrollably and my heart probably racing as fast as a simile if I were to place my hand on my chest. This is such a bad idea.
“Your condition can’t be met, Travis. I’ll be handing over your materials to Madison. She’ll take good care of you, alongside Maxwell,” she says.
I tilt my head at the names being mentioned. “And who is that?”
She looks at me as if that is the most outlandish question one could ever ask. “Maxwell? Maxwell Maurney?” Her head stoops down as she looks at me, trying to pick a lock, almost making me feel dumb.
“I mean Madison,” I save.
Until this moment, I was completely unaware of who ran Maurney’s Auction House. If someone would’ve bet a million dollars on it, I would’ve gone broke, but she doesn’t have to know that. Yes, his last name is the name of the company. Yes, it’s pretty obvious. And yes, his signature was on the document I had just signed, but to be fair, I wasn’t looking at his name.
“She’s an art cataloger, one of the best I’ve worked with. You’ll be in faithful hands.”
“I don’t want Madison.”
Her fingers find her chin as she gets lost in her thoughts. “Well, there’s also Miranda. She’s?—”
“I want you,” I spurt out.
It might be the air at this cafe, the music serenading my words, the purple bandana covering her wavy hair, the sleeveless white tank top shaping her boobs, the bit of skin peaking out, or the way she seems to be comfortable with me again. I don’t know. But it makes me want to spend more time with her and be irrational. At least before she leaves. I can’t just let her wander around town without someone to hang out with, right? If I think about it, I’d be doing her a favor.
“You think you can work with me?” she asks.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” I grab my cup of coffee, the one that I haven’t seemed to have touched since it was placed in front of me.
She says nothing for a hot second before finally shifting in her seat, a gesture one makes when they’re about to state something. “Fine, you’re mine.” The coffee draining down my throat suddenly clogs and I choke on her words.
“I mean, you’re now my client. I’ll handle your pieces for the auction,” she quickly says and sighs, her eyes roving around the room.
It takes a while for me to get out of the gutter. I chose this. I agreed to this. I wanted this. Keeping face is off the table, as well as losing time. If I can get some answers about why she decided to part ways with me, maybe I can finally move on from her. Right now, I’m stuck with the splendid memories I have of her, the heartwarming stickers of our relationship, and nothing more. No matter how much I’ve tried to hate her or tune her existence out of my mind, the happy moments weighed over the pain. And it sucks because now I feel so stupid.
4. She’s career-driven.
“So, what now?” I murmur. Definitely feeling stupid.
“Now, we get to work. We’ve already lost enough time as it is. Last time I went to your workspace I couldn’t check out your collection, so why don’t you show them to me and we figure out which could be up there with the rest?” Her lips motion to the beat of her voice and I drown in them.
“What?” I blink, snapping back to her eyes.
“Were you listening to me?”
“Collection. Choose. Yes, why not? But first, I have to pick Billy up at the airport.”
She raises her eyebrows at me again, but this time, I’m not the clueless one here.
Billy had left town a few days ago, basically, the day after our night out, to meet up with a label company in Australia. Based on the latest news I had heard from him, it seemed that he was heading in the other direction and was not primarily convinced by their charming words. I had dropped him off that day, so now I have to be the one to pick him up. My luck. I don’t necessarily fancy that I have to cater to his stupid ass and walk ten toes around him, but I’m still curious about whether he chickened out and got signed or came back home with nothing but bad news to tell his mates.
“You know he’s in a band, right?” I resume to his job. Talking about Billy with Isabella is the last on my list right now.
“I might have heard something like that from the boys. Is he famous yet?”
I zip my mouth, a smirk lined on my lips. She immediately bursts out laughing, reading between unspoken lines. “Can I come with you?” she asks, her elbows back on the table.
“To the airport?”
“Yes, please. I haven’t seen him since I came back and honestly, I think I’m a fan,” she says. “Please.” Her lips pout at me while her hands rub on each other.
“A fan? Right…” I squint my eyes.
Knowing Isabella, she’s got to be plotting something behind that puckish grin. Her relationship with Billy has always been as simple as it looks. Fun. Back then, I did envy how easily he could bring her out of a certain shell. It’s the only thing he gets to do. Once they’re together in the same space, Isabella turns into this playful kid I’ve never seen around me before. It’s fascinating. They’re like siblings, but without the part where love gets involved.
“You didn’t even know he was in a band until minutes ago,” I say.
“Days ago,” she corrects as if it makes it better.
“What’s the name of the band?” I ask.
She pauses, her eyes open wide at me, screaming for a way out. I’m not giving her any. “Waiting,” I insist.
“Devil cakes? Crakes? Kiss? Keys. Yes, keys. Devil Keys,” she rumbles, excitement building up the more she goes on. I hold my smile as I squish my lips inwards, popping my cheeks out.
“What?” she dials down. “Did I say something funny?” I guess I failed to hold it in.
“Dweller Keys, Isabella. It’s Dweller Keys, not Devil Keys.”
“Same thing.”
I close my eyes as I sigh. “Whatever happens, don’t say that in front of him.” I jokingly plead.
If there’s one thing I know about Billy is that he’d never tolerate the downgrading of his band. He loves that shit so much that it even surprises me to the core. For someone who didn’t have a care in the world when we were in high school, he’s changed a lot. It’s almost nauseating how in love he is with his music, but I respect it. It’s not bad in the ear.
“Got it,” she says. Somehow, I don’t think she actually gets it. Whatever. It will be her funeral if she tests the waters. Even I don’t think I can save her if it comes to that.
“Seriously, Isabella. I know you two have this weird relationship, but he’ll rip you into threads if you mock anything related to his music. Literally.”
“Why are you so uptight? I will not mock him. I’m just—” she pauses.
“What?”
“Nothing. Shall we go get him, now?” She gets up with the documents in her hand.
Chills parade all over my body and I feel a storm passing by soon. Isabella and Billy in one place again after so long are like an active volcano eager to erupt. That calls for reinforcement, but it’s too late. She’s way ahead of me. Her seat belt is on in the passenger seat, her eyes are already on the road, and I feel nauseous standing by the door. This is going to be a long drive back from the airport, and I’m not ready for it.
We wait in front of the main gate, hands behind our backs and a silence keeping us apart. I should be happy about it, but it only digs me further into the hole of ‘what is she thinking about right now?’. A hole I deeply want to get out of.
“When is he coming out?” she breaks the silence.
I twist my left wrist to check the time. And indeed, he should be out by now. “Now,” I answer with uncertainty.
She shifts back and rests on the car door, her arms crossed. If I didn’t know what to expect on the ride here, now I know. This is going to be bad.
As I look at her, a familiar figure appears in my peripheral vision, drawing me towards it. It’s Billy. The usual Billy, all clothed in black from head to toe. I always wonder if he dresses like that because he’s preparing for some funeral or he’s just forming a certain persona for the sake of having one.
His leather jacket perfectly fits him as it’s tight around his shoulders, not to mention the shades, the right hand holding onto his buffed bag, and of course, the boots. This is a whole James Bond parade but without the suit.
A heavy sigh escapes my lips as I watch him walk toward us. And by the sudden change in pace, I think he’s noticed my company.
“Behave, please,” I whisper to Isabella. “You and I might now be on good terms, but with Billy, it’s different.”
“I’ve always been a good girl, Travis.” She unleashes her arm and moves a few steps towards the gate. I don’t get to respond to her claim.
“Isn’t it the great William Shepherd?” her voice shifts a tone as she speaks to him. It’s dominant and a recall of her younger self. The same tone she had the first time I met her, and it’s once again only directed at Billy.
He stops in front of her. “What are you doing here?” he asks but doesn’t give her the time to answer before walking past her to where I stand. “What is she doing here, man?”
My lips open. I feel them opening, but nothing is coming out of them.
“Not even a hello?” Isabella saves me and he turns around.
“Hello.” He turns back to me again, ignoring her presence. “Seriously, why did you bring her here?”
“Maybe because he’s caring? He knew how much you missed me, so here I am.” Isabella opens her arms wide as if she’s demanding an embrace.
If a hug is what she’s looking for, she’s not getting it from Billy. There’s a good reason I didn’t want to witness this encounter. Of all the people who should’ve taken her departure or the break up really badly— a.k.a. me —Billy was the one to lose his shit.
At first, I couldn’t understand why he went all about himself to despise her as much as he did after she left for France. It was unexpected and over-dramatic, but then, after I had gotten over it, I finally understood. I was a wreck during that time. I didn’t even try to free myself from the chains and was all shades of doom. During that time, I allowed my grades to plummet, ignored my friends, barely acknowledged my adored brother, and cried until my eyes were dry. He had to hate her, especially since he was the most to be by my side through it all. He saw some things nobody else saw, and for that, I owe him.
So yes, I feel bad for diving back into this pool and shoving Isabella back in his face, but what can I do? I can’t help it.
“Ew,” he simply responds, leaving her stranded with her arms wide open.
“Come on, we haven’t seen each other in so long.”
“And I wish it stayed that way.”
I so don’t want to be here. Somehow, it feels like a test. A very complicated test involving my best friend and the woman who has been occupying my thoughts for the past few days, maybe years.
“Stop being a shut-off and bring it in.” She’s trying to be friendly right now and I admire her for that, but there’s no way she’s getting him to wrap his arms around her. Even I didn’t get to do that.
“Isabella, I’m going to say this as nicely as I can,” he begins, and she nods, a smile on her face. “I’d rather shoot myself in the face, still be alive, get buried six feet under and my burial pissed on than touch you.”
Her arms slowly drop to her side. “And if that’s still not clocking in your brain… I don’t fucking what you here and I don’t care a penny than you’re back.” Her face also drops, and so does mine.
The silence comes washing back and overwhelms us. She then looks down at her feet. A nuanced chuckle flees her mouth. Fuck .
“I’ll call for someone else to pick me up. You two can head back on your own,” Billy turns to me and says.
I didn’t want to meddle in their circle, but he’s gone far. It’s one thing to not want her here, but to say it to her face and then refuse to drive with us is rude.
“Come on, stop playing and get in. We’ll talk later,” I say, walking toward the driver’s side, leaving them alone, and standing in front of each other.
“Who do you fucking think you are?” Isabella’s voice puts me to a halt and I look through the car windows. “Talking to me as if I’m your dog and some crap.” She chuckles. “You’re even dumber than when I left.” Her feet lead her around, unable to stay still, while her hands sit on her hips. “I can’t believe this.”
“Say that again,” Billy counters.
“I said…” she emphasizes. “You’re dumber than when I left, looking like a deadbeat wannabe rockstar, with music a seven-year-old could produce. So yeah, dumb .”
He sighs, and a stabbing glare finds its way to me. It’s my call. I walk over to them again, trying to stand a ground that no longer belongs to me. “Okay, why don’t we stop here? People are staring,” I say to her, my eyes signaling for her to stop, then at him to shut his mouth and not say a word to that.
“Look at that, says the girl who comes running back to her ex-boyfriend so he can save her ass at work and he still fell for such bullshit. And I’m the dumb one. Huh,” he speaks anyway, hitting two birds with one stone.
I know I called it, but this is worse than what I had imagined. The volcano has finally erupted, and I’m caught in the middle of it. Ashes awaiting me.