Dreams of Perfection (Dreams Come True) (13 page)

Chapter 24

After Josh had Darcy fed, medicated, and resituated on the sofa, her feet in his lap, he picked up the remote and turned on ESPN.

Propping his bare feet on the coffee table, he looked around the cozy living room, Darcy’s personality apparent in all the little touches. Photos of friends and family—including some of the two of them, one photo in particular from their first Yankees game together. Knickknacks and throw rugs she’d picked up from her almost weekly haunts of the various open-air markets around Manhattan. An open book, spine-side up on the window seat, and fresh flowers on the end table. 

Josh contemplated his own postage-stamp-sized apartment. Darcy and his mom had helped him furnish it, and it was a nice apartment, considering the rent. Charcoal gray walls with white trim. Masculine, clean lines. It served its purpose, and it was close to the office. But it wasn’t a home.

He’d grown up in a two-bedroom, two-bathroom cinder block house. Nothing fancy. But it had always been neat as a pin, with colorful flowers blooming in the yard, worn but comfortable furniture, and decorations at the holidays. His mom made sure the house had a warm, welcoming feel. Just like Darcy did.

He felt Darcy’s hand on his and glanced over at her.

“Thanks, Josh,” she said softly, the absence of the cotton packing making it easier to understand her.

“What are friends for?”

“If you ever get tired of the law, maybe you should consider nursing as a second career.”

“Nurse Ryan.” He tilted his head. “It has a certain ring to it.”

“I really owe you.” She glanced over at his feet and cocked a brow. “That’s the only reason I’m letting you put your feet on my coffee table.”

“Thanks.”

Darcy gave a little shrug. “It’s the least I can do.”

“It’s been a pretty tough assignment, so I’ll accept your concession.” He patted her feet, noticing the pale pink polish. As long as he’d known her, she’d always kept her feet well groomed and polished. It struck him as just one more reason he thought she was so damned sexy. Even with her mussed hair, dark circles, and slightly swollen jaw, he’d never met anyone who even came close to her fresh, girl-next-door look. 

“I hope I didn’t throw a wrench in your schedule.” She pulled him back to the conversation.

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

They watched SportsCenter for a few minutes, Josh gently rubbing her feet. The feel of his hands on her feet sent odd little tingles up her legs to her stomach.
Must be the drugs.
She should tuck her feet up under her, but the massage felt so good, so soothing.

Josh could imagine evenings spent exactly like this. Well, not exactly. Darcy wouldn’t have just had surgery. But evenings lying on the sofa together, watching sports, or even a romantic comedy or two. And when he turned off the television, they’d walk up to their bedroom . . .
Okay. Time to get my mind focused elsewhere.

“So, no more wisdom teeth. Do you feel any less wise?” Josh asked, a slight grin on his face. “I’m not going to have to start exercising some sort of parental authority over you, am I?”

Darcy laughed. “Ow! Don’t make me laugh.”

The doorbell rang.

“That’ll be Laura,” Darcy explained. “She said she’d be coming by.”

“Super.”

Josh walked over to the door and opened it.

“Lawyer,” Laura punched as she strolled past Josh.

“Nympho,” Josh counter-punched as he followed her into the living room.

“How do you get a lawyer out of a tree?”

“Cut the rope.”

Darcy pushed herself to a sitting position with a grimace. “You two will be sniping at one another over my grave.”

“How’s the patient?” Laura asked as she sat next to Darcy on the sofa.

“Grumpy,” Darcy replied.

“Well, maybe this will help.” Laura held up a brown paper bag. “Aunt Butchie’s famous chocolate mousse cups. One for tonight and one for tomorrow.”

Darcy’s face went all dreamy. “I have the best friends in the world.”

“And for you Josh, a Tiramisu cup.”

Josh drew back in surprise. “Really? Thanks. That was . . . uncharacteristically thoughtful of you.”

“It’s the least I could do after you took care of Darcy.” She sniffed as she looked him over. “You do have a few redeeming qualities.”

“Gee, thanks.” Shaking his head, he took the bag from Laura and walked into the kitchen to make Darcy tea and grab spoons.

Laura laid her hand over D
arcy’s. “How do you feel?”

“Like Con Ed tried to drill through my jaw.”

“They give you good drugs?”

“Yeah. Too good, I think.” She frowned over another hazy memory of telling Josh he smelled good. Maybe she’d just dreamed it.

“How’d your presentation go?”

“We got the account!” Laura’s eyes lit with pride.

“You should be out celebrating instead of sitting here with me,” Darcy fussed.

“What? And leave you with no one but that loser for company?” she said, loud enough for him to hear.

“Hey!” he hollered from the kitchen, where the teakettle had just begun to shriek. “I heard that.”

“Hello. That was the point,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.

“What is it with you and Josh?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you always give him such a hard time?”

Laura thought about it a minute. “Because I can.” She shrugged a silk-clad shoulder.

“I bet your committee meetings together are a barrel of laughs.”

Laura sniffed, lifting her chin a little. “That’s different. That’s business. I’m nothing but professional when it comes to marketing and promotion.”

Josh came in carrying a tray with
Darcy’s tea and the desserts Laura had brought.

“Look at you,” Laura said. “Looking all domestic and everything. The next thing you know you’ll be wearing an apron and whipping up a soufflé.” She smirked as she took her chocolate mousse cup off the tray. She took a bite of the confection, then indelicately licked every trace off the spoon.

Josh ignored the comment and served Darcy her tea and dessert.

Darcy gingerly took a bite and groaned.

Both he and Laura jumped to attention.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Hmm mm.” Darcy’s eyes were closed. “Just savoring the taste of sin in a cup.”

He and Laura sank back in relief.

“Chase any ambulances today?” Laura asked Josh.

“Nope. Sucker any clients?” He turned his attention to ESPN, effectively dismissing her.

“As if,” Laura said off-handedly, then ignored him. “Heard from Blake?”

“No.” Darcy sighed. “He said it might be a few days before he could call.” She got a little teary. “He doesn’t even know I had surgery.” She dabbed at her eyes. “Must be the drugs making me weepy.”

“He’ll call. I’m sure he’d be here if he could instead of leaving you here in the incapable hands of a shyster.” She lifted the last bite of her mousse to her lips.

As soon as she swallowed her last bite, Josh said, “Enjoy your dessert?”

“Of course.” She glanced up at Josh and confusion turned to suspicion. “Why?” She narrowed her eyes, her spoon poised midway between her mouth and the dessert cup.

“On, no reason.” Josh took the last heaping bite of his Tiramisu and smiled in delight.

After Laura left, Josh settled in her v
acated seat on the sofa and pulled Darcy’s feet into his lap again. “Let me know when you’re ready for another pain pill.”

“Maybe in a little while. Before I go to bed.”

Josh picked up the remote and began flipping channels. He paused in his channel-surfing when he came across the movie
A League of Their Own
, one of their favorites.

“Greatest line of all time,” he said with a lopsided grin, referring to the line about crying and baseball.

Darcy gave Josh a little shove. “I know, right?” She winced at the painful after-effects of her outburst. 

“Darcy. I have something to tell you.” He took her hand, as the nagging doubts returned.

“Shoot,” she said, shifting positions on the sofa, so that she lay on her back looking directly at him.

He took a deep breath, ready to take the plunge. “I—”

The phone rang.

“Holy hell,” he muttered.

Darcy sat up, her face lighting up. “That’s probably Blake. Would you mind?” She lifted her feet out of his lap.

“No, of course not.” He pulled his hands through his hair, grasping a fistful on his way to the kitchen. “Hello.”

“Josh?” Blake’s perfect baritone crackled though a bad connection. “Is everything okay? Why are you answering the phone?”

“Hi, Blake. Everything’s fine. I’ll let Darcy fill you in.”

He handed the phone over to Darcy. Her face fairly glowed as she took it.

“Blake? Where are you?”

Josh picked up the tray of dirty dishes and carried it into the kitchen. He wanted nothing more than to toss the dishes into the sink and hear each one shatter. Just like Blake had shattered his opportunity to come clean with Darcy.

Instead, Josh fought his frustration as he rinsed the plates and placed them carefully in the dishwasher, as Darcy’s giggle set his teeth on edge.

The next morning Darcy straightened up the livi
ng room, picking up her discarded book, fluffing the pillows, and folding the throw. A memory flashed in her head of Josh leaning over her, and her snuggling under the throw before telling him she loved him. She winced, then shrugged her shoulders and laid the throw on the window seat. Well, she did love him. She loved both Josh and Laura. Nothing wrong with that. 

She gingerly cupped her face. Yesterday’s jackhammer had been replaced by a pick-ax, but with some Tylenol she could just about bear it. Sitting on the sofa, gathering her robe around her, she thought about Josh’s tenderness. The way he took care of her. Then she remembered he was going to tell her something when the phone rang. He’d looked so serious. Well, if it had been important, he’d have told her after she’d hung up with Blake. Or this morning.

Instead, after preparing a bowl of microwave oatmeal for her breakfast, brewing a cup of tea, and making sure she was self-sufficient, Josh lit out of the house like it was on fire. She didn’t know how she would ever repay him for his kindness. It seemed she would spend her life trying to catch up for all the good things Josh did for her. Especially what he did for her after her break-up with Doug.

If she lived to be a hundred, she’d never be able to repay him for his friendship and understanding. Where Laura had been pissed off enough to commit bodily harm on Doug, Josh had turned his attention to soothing Darcy’s lacerated heart, with flowers, silly hand-drawn cards, and pints of Ben and Jerry’s.

He’d spent so much time with her she worried he’d flunk out of law school. He’d let her cry herself out whenever the pain overwhelmed her, holding a box of Kleenex at the ready, but he never let her feel sorry for herself for long.

He’d listened as she poured her heart out, telling him things she’d never told Laura. With Josh, she was able to stitch up the pieces of her heart, using the threads of his unwavering friendship and support, so that he would always be part of her.

Chapter 25

Eight years ago, the wedding plans had been in full swing. The date chosen, the venue selected, even the dress was on order. As Darcy left her appointment with the florist to meet Doug for dinner she received a text from him that something had come up and he had to work late.

“Poor guy.” He’d been working so hard lately, and she’d been so focused on the wedding plans and her latest book that she’d neglected him.

She texted,
No problem. Call me later. XOXOXO
.

Crossing the street to the subway station, she had a brilliant idea. She’d pick up his favorite Chinese food, General Tso’s chicken and vegetable rice, and a bottle of wine, and take it by his office for a quick dinner, so he can get back to work. Goodness knows if he’d even get to eat otherwise. At least he’d know she was thinking about him.

About a half hour later, she knocked on the glass door of the high-rise building that housed the TV station where Doug worked as a sportscaster, getting the security guard’s attention, and showing him the food in her hands.

Frank unlocked the door, “Hey, Darcy! Written that book about the handsome security guard who wins the gorgeous CEO’s hand yet?”

“No, Frank, but it’s next in the queue,” she said with a wink. “I’m surprising Doug with dinner. Poor guy, he’s working late again.”

“Yeah. He’s been doing that a lot lately. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the distraction a beautiful lady can bring. He’s one lucky guy.”

“Aw, thanks, Frank. I brought you a little something too. I hope you like Moo Shu pork.” 

“Who doesn’t like Moo Shu pork?

“I know, right?” Darcy handed Frank the container.

“Thanks, Darcy.” His eyes sparkled with appreciation. “Go on up. You kids have fun.”

“We will.” Darcy took a quick ride on the elevator to the twenty-ninth floor. Since the news was broadcast from the studio on the forty-fifth floor, the elevator doors opened on a dim, quiet office space.

Darcy walked with a spring in her step, excited over Doug’s reaction to the unexpected feast. When she turned left at his hallway, she tiptoed along the industrial carpeting to avoid alerting him to her presence. As she approached his office, she heard deep moans coming from behind Doug’s door. Oh my God! Was he hurt?

She dropped the food, throwing open the door to rush to his aid. Her brain momentarily fogged, unable to comprehend the image her eyes conveyed.

Papers were scattered on the floor, Doug bent over the desk, his pants down around his ankles. Beneath Doug, bare buttocks visible below her upturned blue dress, Tawny, the buxom blond meteorologist Darcy recognized from her nightly weather reports, and the office Christmas party, lay facedown on the desk. Her hair disheveled, her arms splayed out wide on the desk.

Apparently the two were still recovering from their,
er
, activity, because neither of them was aware of her intrusion. The gasp escaped before she could flee undetected.

“Darcy!” Doug stood up, before realizing he should pull up his pants first.

Darcy covered her eyes, but the momentary visual of Tawny’s bare bottom and Doug’s exposed junk would be burned on her retina forever. From some distant place, she knew she should be angry, more than angry. She should be murderous, but she couldn’t get passed the humiliation, the abject mortification of seeing her fiancé, the man whose ring she wore, whose children she had hoped to bear, in the throes of passion with another woman.

Her face burned with the shame of knowing she’d been an idiot, a trusting, naïve idiot, as the tears flowed down her face.

“Darcy, I can explain.” Doug stood before her, zipping up his pants as he tucked in his shirt.

She couldn’t look him in the face. Tawny the Tart had the good graces to beat a hasty retreat, slinking past Darcy, pulling her clothes back into place.

Unable to decide what to do, Darcy stood rooted to the floor. She didn’t want to follow Tawny out, and she didn’t want to stay here with Doug. The embarrassment mixed with the agony of betrayal and heartache churned in a bitter concoction.

“Darcy, please.” Doug touched her arm.

His touch sparked the impetus she needed. Whirling toward the door, she ran down the hall and into the blessedly open elevator, Doug’s curses ringing in her ears.

Darcy walked aimlessly until she finally caught a cab to her Brooklyn Heights apartment, dazed by what she’d seen. Bloody blisters on her heels, and one on her toe, she slipped off her shoes and collapsed on the sofa. Pressing her hand to her breastbone, where it felt like her heart would literally shatter into millions of pieces, she sobbed.

Questions collided in her brain like cars in a demolition derby.

How long? How long had this been going on? Did it start when he began “working late”? Or had it been going on before that?

How many? How many women had he been with? Was Tawny the Tart the only one, or had there been others?

Had he been safe? Should she worry about sexually transmitted diseases?

And the hardest question of all: Why wasn’t she enough for Doug? Why did he have to seek out Tawny and any other women he’d been with?

When her cell phone rang, she ignored it. When the apartment phone rang she ignored that too.

Hours later, she didn’t know how long, Doug banged on her front door, calling her name. She cringed away from the sound of his voice, burying her head under a throw pillow. Finally she heard her neighbor, Mr. Bettincourt, threaten to call the police if Doug didn’t leave.

She must have fallen asleep, because when she woke, dim, watery light filtered through the shutters. Her eyes burned, her neck ached, and her heart thudded heavily in her chest.

She dragged herself off the sofa when her cell phone started ringing again. She knew she had to face Doug at some point, but not now. Not yet. She needed a little time and distance to figure out what to do. She needed some time to work up the righteous anger she knew she should feel, but simply couldn’t at this point. Texting Doug, she asked him to please stop calling and to give her some time.

Laura had enough righteous anger for both of them. When she asked her to come by later that day, she told her the whole sordid story. Darcy practically had to tie Laura down to keep her from going after Doug’s private parts with, in her words, “the dullest knife she could find.”

While Darcy appreciated the solidarity of incensed sisterhood, she hated to see her best friend imprisoned for Doug’s maiming, no matter how much he deserved it.

Darcy agreed to meet Doug a few days later on neutral ground in a quiet restaurant not far from her house. When she arrived, she still couldn’t look Doug in the eye. And she knew then she’d never be able to scrub the vulgar image of him and Tawny from her brain.

After trying to kiss her, Darcy told him she’d come to listen to him talk. The touch that had once made her shiver with desire now made her skin crawl with disgust.

“Darcy, what can I do? I’m so sorry. I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I haven’t slept, I haven’t eaten, I can’t concentrate. Tell me what I can do to make this up to you?” He laid his hands on the table, palms up, in a placating gesture.

From what she saw, he didn’t look worse for wear. He sat across from her impeccably dressed in the expensive suits he favored. Darcy felt sick. He really thought he could make it up to her? Like he’d accidentally spilled coffee on her favorite rug, or broken her favorite vase?

“There’s nothing.” She couldn’t even say his name.

“It’s an illness. I’m addicted to sex. I can’t help it.” He tried to reach for her hand.

She pulled it away. Pressed it to her stomach. Just when she thought it couldn’t get any worse. The sex addict defense made it clear that Tawny wasn’t the first, but she didn’t want to hear the details. She didn’t care.

“If I had a drug or alcohol addiction, would you leave me? Just walk away?”

“I’ll never be able to look at you the same way again. I’ll never be able to trust you. Every time you tell me you have to work late, I’ll wonder if you’re really working—”

“Darcy—”

She held up her finger. “Don’t. I get to speak.” There it was. A glimmer of the anger she craved. “Every time you leave town to cover a sports story I’ll wonder if you’re actually sneaking off with another woman.” She suppressed a sob that threatened to bubble to the surface. “I can’t live like that. I won’t live like that.” She took the engagement ring off of her finger, slid it across the table to him, and rose. Turning her back on him she walked out of the restaurant.

“Darcy! Darcy! Dammit! You’re such a princess. You think you’re so perfect. Well, guess what, you’re not. And no one will ever live up to your dreams of perfection.”

She wasn’t looking for perfection, but she knew one thing, Prince Charming was no sex addict.