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Authors: Julie A. Richman

Searching for Moore (18 page)

BOOK: Searching for Moore
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“Maybe so. I definitely don’t have any regrets there. Did you ever want children?”

“I kind of tried not to go there,” she began, “the relationships I’ve been involved in weren’t right to bring a child into, so it just never really worked out.”

“But did you want them?” He persisted.

His personality was so much more forceful and no nonsense as an adult. He’s really tenacious, Mia thought, “If the situation had been different, I might’ve let myself go there, but it wasn’t, so I put it out of my reality.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Don’t be,” she sighed, smushing deeper into her covers, “it is what it is.”

They were silent for a few minutes and he asked, “Did you miss me?”

She was silent, trying to pull her thoughts and composure together so that she wouldn’t cry.

“I guess that’s my answer,” he sadly assumed. She could hear the fresh hurt in his voice.

“No. That is not your answer. I was just trying to make sure that I didn’t start crying again,” she took a deep breath, “Schooner, it felt like part of me died when I left. It was years before I was even semi-ok again. I just hid inside myself. I was angry and hurt and immature and losing the guy I loved felt like I’d had my heart cut out.”

“You never lost me.”

“I was a freaking emotional mess,” she went on. The floodgates were now open. “So yes, the answer to your question was yes, I missed you. I was just empty. Broken. How do you even start with someone else after us? Nothing felt like that and it was my only point of reference — the way that we were together. It took me a long time to figure out that every relationship was different and that no two were alike. I wanted to feel again what I felt with us.”

“Did you ever find it?” She could hear the concern for her in his voice.

“I think at times I tried to convince myself that I did. But eventually I’d figure out that I was lying to myself. So, the answer to that question would be no.”

They were silent for a while, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. She could feel the intense emotion and energy across the telephone line. This was so much for each of them to process. Years of preconceived notions, dispelled. Truths that they had convinced themselves of, crumbled, turning out to be a House of Cards, a House of Lies.

“I’m really glad I found you again, Baby Girl.”

She smiled. “You know what?”

“What?” She could hear his smile.

“I’m really glad you found me, too.”

CHAPTER 4

It was 4:45 A.M. when Mia texted Seth.

Mia: Are you awake?

Seth: I am now.

Mia: He moved out tonight. He’s staying at The Ritz.

Seth: Holy shit, he didn’t!

Mia: Holy shit, he did!

Seth: I love him.

Mia: LOL

Seth: So when’s he coming to NYC?

Mia: Not soon enough!!!

Seth: There’s hope for you yet, BBC. There’s hope for you yet.

CHAPTER 5

It was Thursday morning at 5:45 A.M. and Mia’s cell phone was ringing. It no longer displayed the 949 number. It now said “Schooner — mobile”.

“Hey,” she answered, she’d already been up for about half an hour, too wired to sleep. She had woken up and looked at the time on her phone’s clock every hour throughout the night.

“We’re on the tarmac,” she could hear the PA announcements in the background.

“Welcome to New York!” Mia was beaming, ear-to-ear.

Oh my God, he is here. She had so much nervous energy that she felt like she was vibrating on another frequency. Holy smokes — in less than an hour he’ll be at my apartment, she realized. He had flown in on the Wednesday night red-eye. What a crazy few days.

She had arranged for her favorite limo service to be there to meet him.

“I’ll see you in a few,” she could hear the smile in his voice.

“Oh my God, Schooner.” Mia was already shaking with nerves.

“I know, Baby Girl. I’ll see you soon.”

Mia texted Seth.

Mia: He’s landed and he’s on his way!!!!

Seth: OMG

Mia: I’m a freaking wreck!

Seth: What are you wearing?

Mia: Since it’s only 6 A.M., I don’t want to overdo it. Jeans, black v-neck cashmere sweater.

Seth: V-neck is good. Show him that great boobage. Cashmere is touchable. Shoes?

Mia: Right now barefoot.

Seth: Stay that way. I know you just had a pedicure. Make-up?

Mia: Just a little blush.

Seth: Do a little brown liner at the outer corner of your eyes. Hair?

Mia: It’s down and I’m having a good hair day.

Seth: Bangs in your eyes?

Mia: Yes.

Seth: Sexy. Love it. I am so nervous 4 u!

Mia: Ditto. I feel sick. Too bad it is 2 early in the morn to eat a Xanax!! Ok, will call you later. Wish me luck!

Seth: All will be great. He found out about u on Sat. night and Thurs morning he is here. I love this. So romantic. Don’t fuck it up BBC!

Mia: LOL. Pray 4 me!

Mia tried staying busy to keep her nerves in check. She made a pot of coffee. Sliced bagels. Unloaded her dishwasher. Turned on the TV. Tried to watch CNN. Brushed her teeth for a second time. Dabbed her lips with just the slightest bit of gloss. Tried to do deep breathing exercises to stop from shaking. But she just could not stop trembling, no matter what she did.

The call came from the doorman in the lobby and she had them send him up. He was in her building. Getting into her elevator. It was all so surreal. In just moments, she would be face to face with Schooner again. She remembered the last time she saw him as he walked down the steps from her dorm, not letting go of her hand until their fingertips no longer touched.

And there it was, the knock on the door. She whispered, “Showtime” as she went to open the door (not knowing that he whispered the very same word to himself on the other side of the door).

She held her breath as she opened the door and just prayed that she didn’t do something embarrassing like hyperventilate and pass out.

There he was. She looked up into his handsome face and was sure her smile was as wide as his. She didn’t think about it, her arms just went around his waist immediately and she felt his arms tighten around her, crushing her to him. She felt his lips in her hair and heard an “mmm” come out of her.

She looked up at him and his beautiful smile eased away a good portion of her nerves (not all).

“Come on in,” she finally said.

“I was so nervous on the ride here,” he admitted.

She held out a hand to show him how she was shaking and they both laughed. “I want another hug,” she whispered and he complied, wrapping his arms around her again. She buried her face in his chest, deeply breathing in his clean scent, feeling the hardness of his stomach muscles and nuzzling her face into them. She looked up at him again and he gave her a small soft kiss on her forehead. She knew she could not wipe the silly smile off of her face.

She led him over to the breakfast bar in her open kitchen. “Coffee?” She offered. “You hungry? Can I make you some breakfast?”

He sat on the bar stool, his long legs stretched out, just smiling at her.

“What?” She asked, smiling back at him. No one should look that good in faded jeans, she thought. Faded jeans and a blue Henley sweatshirt — the man was a living Brooks Brothers ad. And there he was in her kitchen. Smiling at her. Schooner Moore was sitting at her breakfast bar, in her apartment, in Manhattan. Surreal didn’t even begin to describe the situation.

He just shook his head. “Saturday night I was at my own birthday party in Newport Beach and I was miserable. Truly miserable. I was out on a deck alone, away from everyone at my party. Away from my party. And Beau Gordon shows up out on the deck with a joint — I haven’t gotten high in like 10 years — and we smoke this joint and start talking about that time we got high at the freshman retreat and he asks me who was the girl that was with us. I tell him it was you and he tells me that he had a fight with you on Facebook. That was Saturday night. It’s 7 A.M. on Thursday morning. And I’m here with you. In your apartment. In New York.”

Mia could not wipe the smile off of her face. “Pretty fucking surreal, huh?”

He laughed, “Very fucking surreal.”

Mia poured two glasses of orange juice and handed one to Schooner. She held hers up in a toast, “To Beau Gordon, you AK-47 toting son of a bitch. Thank you!”

“Here! Here!” Schooner clinked glasses with her and they laughed. It’s still easy, Mia thought. It’s still so easy with him.

She grabbed the bagels that she’d cut apart earlier to help calm her nerves. “Hungry?”

He shook his head, yes. “Do you have whole wheat?”

Mia gave him a what are you crazy look. “Whole wheat? Did you just ask me for a whole wheat bagel? What’s next, are you going to want to spread avocado on this?”

He laughed, “Bite me.”

“So tempted,” she volleyed back. “Ok, your choices are onion, everything and pumpernickel.” God, he was gorgeous and he was sitting at her breakfast bar. This man, whom she had loved more deeply than any other man in her life. This total stranger. “Please tell me you know what pumpernickel is,” she teased.

“Well by process of elimination, it’s that one,” he pointed to the pumpernickel bagel. She knew she’d been smiling ear to ear since he’d gotten there.

“Did you sleep on the plane?”

“I can’t sleep on planes,” he shook his head.

“Oh no, not good. Well, after this Adrenaline rush wears off, you’re going to crash.” Mia began, “I need to do a conference call, which I’ll take from here, at 9 A.M. It should last about an hour and a half. You should nap. Go crash out in the bedroom.”

“Can I crash on the couch, so I can hang out with you. If that doesn’t bother you.”

“Whatever is comfortable for you.” Mia offered.

“I’m a guy, just put me on a couch”.

Mia laughed, “Ok, I’ll stick the remote in your hand, that should put you right to sleep.” Schooner reached out and took Mia’s hand in his and gave it a squeeze.

“I need to get gloves later. It’s really cold here and I didn’t think about bringing any.”

“We can go do that after my call.” Schooner had arrived with a blast of arctic air. The day’s high was only going to be twenty-three degrees and down into the teens at night with below zero wind chills. But the day was bright and sunny and the sky was the color of his eyes.

After breakfast, Schooner got on the couch and Mia brought him a pillow from the bedroom. Within minutes, he was fast asleep. She brought a quilt in and covered him, then just sat there staring at him. Un-fucking-believable, she thought as she watched him sleep in her living room.

She took a picture with her cell phone of him sleeping peacefully on her couch. She couldn’t take her eyes off of him. This wasn’t real. This just could not be real.

She texted the photo to Seth.

Seth: OMG, he’s adorable.

Mia: I know. Can I keep him?

Seth: LOL

Mia: Please please please. Please let me keep him!

Seth: Are you ok?

Mia: Yeah, a little nervous. Not quite sure — Do I touch him? Not touch him?

Seth: Stop over thinking it, BBC.

Mia: Ok…. got to get ready for conf. call

Seth: Update me later.

Mia: Will do

Schooner didn’t stir the entire time Mia was on her call. He looked so beautiful sleeping. There was a hint of the young Schooner that she used to watch across her pillow as he slept. She was having a hard time processing it all. What were they doing? What was this? They were two people who had once loved each other deeply and had it ripped away. But who were they now?

Their marathon phone calls over the past few days had been deep, cathartic, brutally honest and surprisingly easy. But what about being together? She was attracted to him, how could she not be… but was it mutual, she wondered? He had a room reserved uptown at The Stanhope — he didn’t want her to feel pressured about staying in her apartment and now that was hanging over her — where would he stay? Would he even want to stay with her? At the end of the weekend, what would it be? Nice to see you again? Seth’s words starting ringing in her brain, “Don’t over think it” and clearly she was.

She didn’t have the heart to wake him, so she wrote him a note — this time she wouldn’t leave without a note. Not making that mistake twice, she mused.

S — Ran out to the store. Will be back soon. Make yourself at home. Extra towels are out in the bathroom, if you need. See you in a few. — M

An hour later, Mia reentered her apartment, to find Schooner no longer on her couch.

“Hey, am back,” she yelled out.

“I’ll be right out,” he called back from the bathroom. She put the bags down on the couch and took off her coat, scarf and hat. Her teeth were chattering, she was still so cold. Today was the kind of cold that just got deep into your bones and hung on tight.

The bathroom door opened, a cloud of steamy air escaped and Schooner emerged behind it, a towel wrapped around his waist, as he dried his thick fair hair with another towel. He smiled at her, clearly enjoying her reaction to his near-nakedness.

“I own health clubs,” he offered, a very self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“And I eat bagels. This is so not good.” Mia shook her head and walked over to the kitchen, needing water for her suddenly very dry mouth.

Schooner emerged a few minutes later, hair still damp, in his faded jeans and a button down Ralph Lauren, sleeves rolled at the cuffs — barefoot. Faded jeans and barefoot and 6’ 2, Mia took another sip of water for that very dry mouth of hers.

“C’mere,” Mia said, sitting down on the couch and grabbing the bags from Barney’s New York/Co-op, “I went and got some stuff for you while you were sleeping.”

A real smile took over his face and she handed him the first box. Inside were black leather cashmere lined gloves. “I hope they fit. I knew you needed them.” He took them out of the box and put them on.

BOOK: Searching for Moore
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