“Miss Bell!” I hear Kordrol yelling my name from across the hall, and I curse softly. I turn, plastering a smile back on my face. My heart is racing, and I want nothing more than to be out of this building. This building where Richard and his new fiancé are now dancing, staring lovingly into each other’s terrible eyes.
“You aren’t leaving, are you? The Hudson Gallery will be receiving an award in a few moments, and I’m sure Vera would want someone here to accept it.” Kordrol is out of breath as he runs up to us, stopping in front of me. His eyes search my face, and I honestly don’t know what to say for a minute. I can only think about Richard, and that diamond ring, and the fact that I think Kordrol is a huge creep.
“Miss Bell isn’t feeling well.” Tom steps in for me, after it takes me far too long to respond. Kordrol frowns, looking a mixture of angry and annoyed. He takes a half step back and then turns to me, his face red and his eyes wide.
“Not feeling well? But you have to stay. Someone has to be here—“ His voice gets higher and I quickly shake my head. I don’t want a scene. I don’t want it to get back to Vera that I was ungracious or that I left early. I put a hand up, resting it gently on Kordrol’s arm. He calms almost instantly, and I pull my hand away.
“I’m fine. I’m staying. Don’t worry, Mr. Kordrol.” I say finally, putting up my hands. He looks relieved, and the redness drains from his face slightly.
“Good. I still wanted to give you that private tour. It could be very beneficial to your career. I could introduce you to a lot of people, Miss. Bell.” He says this, moving slightly so his back is to Tom, sort of pushing him off to the side. I’m not sure if I’m reading far too much into Kordrol’s words, but I feel my stomach clench with nausea. I’m sure Tom hasn’t heard what he said to me, otherwise Tom would be jumping back into knight-in-shining-armor mode, coming to defend my honor.
“If you’ll excuse me, please. I’m just going to go to the restroom.” I push away from both of them, feeling like I’m going to break into a million pieces if I see Kordrol’s sweaty red face for a minute more. I walk quickly toward out of the main room, toward the foyer where I know there is a ladies room.
I step inside, relieved to find it empty. As soon as I receive the award, I’ll find a way to slip out. I just hope I can make it that long. Stepping in front of the wide mirror, I look at my reflection. My hair sits in loose waves down my shoulders, and my cheeks are flushed pink. My throat and chest are splotchy, red and pink as well and I look a little like I have a rash. Great. The perks of having fair skin. Everything I feel becomes evident on my skin.
I grab a few paper towels and run them under cool water, then dab gingerly at my throat and chest. If this isn’t a bit of a nightmare, I’m not sure what is. Deep breaths. Deep, cleansing breaths. Doesn’t really work. I give myself to the count of twenty, then brace myself.
I carefully leave the bathroom, peeking outside first to see if Kordrol is anywhere around. The coast seems to be clear. I can see him far on the other side of the room. Perhaps he’s decided to harass someone else for a bit. I slip out of the bathroom, looking for the best place to stand and be as invisible as possible. Reminder for next time Vera asks me to fill in for her—are there any lecherous, creepy old men there?
“Are you alright?” Tom’s voice is low and careful, and I turn around, finding him standing to the side, waiting.
“I’ll be okay.” I nod. I’m embarrassed that he saw me so upset. I’m thrilled he’s here, but I’m also not sure if I can handle any extra drama. Or feelings. I’d love it if I could just turn everything off for a moment.
“Come with me?” He holds out his hand, and I’ll be damned if I don’t take it automatically like a good little robot. His hand is big and cool, and he covers my hand with his. It is inexplicable but I feel safe with him. I hardly know him, but I trust him implicitly.
He turns and we make our way quickly through the crowds, into the smaller gallery, which is nearly deserted now. We keep walking, him leading with me a step behind. We don’t speak, but walk in silence as he takes us to a pair of tall, heavy ornate wooden doors. He turns back, raises an eyebrow at me, and then opens one of the doors, just enough for us to slip through. I don’t ask questions, but I move quickly and quietly through the open door. Tom follows a second later.
The room is nearly dark, save for the gallery lighting on the paintings. The main lights have been turned off, and the illuminated paintings look gorgeous in the stark light. The room is lovely, cool, and completely quiet. Museums are my favorite place in the world to be. Quiet, contemplative, emotional.
“That’s better.” Tom says softly, stepping up next to me. I turn quickly to face him.
“Thank you.” I whisper, glancing around. He steps up to me, raises his hands as if he’s going to touch me, but then lets his arms drop at his sides.
“I don’t know why you’re thanking me. Also, is that guy Kordrol a total creep…or?” He frowns and I giggle softly.
“He is. A total creep.” I nod. We both quiet and Tom bumps me with his shoulder, gently.
“So that was the ex, I’m guessing?” He asks. I nod and chew on my lower lip. A terrible habit, but it’s good for keeping tears in. Tom clears his throat and then steps away, walking toward one of the paintings. I watch him for a moment, and then follow him, noiselessly making my way to where he stands.
“Do you know anything about these?” He asks, nodding toward the painting. It’s a night time scene, and a rather famous one.
“These are by an American realist painter named Edward Hopper. This is his most famous work. It’s called ‘Nighthawks’.” We both stare quietly at the work, and Tom tucks his hands into his pockets. The painting we are looking at depicts a darkened street. The viewer is looking in on a harshly lit diner, with a few patrons and a waiter the only people inside the building.
“I’ve seen this before.” Tom says softly, though he’s looking at me and not the painting. I nod, ignoring him. If I look at him, who knows what will happen. Instead, I focus intensely on the paintings.
“Hopper paints a lot of very minimalist scenes with an emphasis on light. His art is all about loneliness. Being solitary. They’re some of my favorites.” I can feel him, still looking at me, but I keep my eyes on the painting.
“I like that you know so much about him.”
“You could just read the placard.” I say with a smile. Tom laughs softly.
“But it sounds much better coming from you.” He shrugs and then I turn to him. I can only see half his face in this light, but he is so handsome. My hands itch to touch his face, to touch his hair, but I refrain. It’s been four months since I saw him last. Four months since we last talked, but for some reason, it feels like no time has passed.
“We keep running into each other.” He looks down at his hands, and then his blue eyes are back on me.
“Perhaps you’re stalking me.” I grin. He smiles, then reaches forward and takes one of my hands in his.
“Perhaps.” He says softly. “Gracie, I—“
“I need to get back out there. I need to accept that award. Then I’m going to go back to my hotel. Do you want to come with me?” I ask this quickly, the words spilling out as I cut him off from whatever he’s going to say. I don’t want to hear him say he’s sorry that I had to run into Richard. I don’t want his pity. Not tonight.
Tom looks surprised for a minute, but then he gives me a short, fast nod.
“I’ll go wherever with you.” He gives me a smile that makes my knees watery. I nod and then turn, walking out of the darkened room as quickly as I can, before I can say or do anything else. I should probably already regret what I’ve said, but somehow, I just don’t.
****
Accepting the award takes all of thirty seconds. I walk up on stage, with my lovely fake smile, I spot Richard and Carmen in the crowd and feel as if I’m going to vomit, I take the award and then I hurry off into obscurity. Tom is already waiting for me at the doors, as I duck my head and we hurry out into the warm night air. May in DC is pretty mild, and there’s a light, warm breeze blowing. The dramatic marble stairs of the museum expand out in front of us, and Tom hesitates as we walk outside.
“Gracie? Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks. I know I’m not acting totally myself, but it’s just the shock of seeing Richard. It will wear off. My dress flutters around me, molding against my legs as the breeze blows.
“I’m starving.” I look up at him, and he scans my face, then breaks into a smile.
“Alright. Well I know just the place.” He nods and we make our way down the stairs. I feel better already, knowing I’m leaving behind that stuffy party and stranger danger and my terrible ex. Tom ushers me into a black sedan, and I raise an eyebrow at him as he makes sure my dress is tucked into the car.
“You have a driver?” I ask. He shrugs and then leans into the opening.
“One of the perks.” He laughs and then carefully closes the door.
We are only in the car for a few minutes before we pull up to what looks like an old fashioned diner. Tom opens the door for me, and we make our way inside. The Silver Diner is in fact an old fashioned diner, with booths and black and white checkered floor. We stand out magnificently in our formal wear, but no one even bats an eye. The waitress, who is wearing an amazing amount of blue eyeshadow, shows us to a booth in the corner.
“How did you know about this place?” I ask Tom as I slide into the booth. The seat backs are high, making it feel rather private. Tom takes off his jacket, throwing it to side, and then slides in. I settle in across from him, thanking the waitress as she hands us menus. Tom starts rolling up the sleeves of his white dress shirt, unbuttoning them and then quickly, methodically rolling them up his toned forearms.
“I may have eaten here last night. Don’t judge me.” He smiles and then reaches up, loosening his tie. I sit back, watching him.
“By yourself?” I ask.
“Perhaps. It’s a lonely life sometimes. Like those Hopper paintings.” He winks at me.
“Tom, I wanted to thank you for what happened back there. I sort of…fell apart a little.” I feel myself blush, embarrassed at how close I’d been to crying. Tom blinks, his eyes meeting mine.
“I thought you did well.” He says graciously. Our waitress comes over to get our drinks, and we both order water and coffee.
“I didn’t know he would be there. I didn’t even…I haven’t seen him since…” I feel my throat constrict. Tom is quiet, his eyes kind and understanding.
“It’s never fun when it’s sprung on you like that.” He offers. I nod, and then look away.
“How did you know? How did you know who he was?” I ask. He smiles, and then runs a big hand through the sides of his hair. I brush my hair over my shoulder, suddenly feeling entirely too aware that I’m sitting in an expensive gown, in a little diner, with Tom.
“I didn’t really know who he was. But I could tell you were upset and uncomfortable. I’d been on my way over to see you, and then I caught snippets of your conversation.” Tom licks his lips and then looks uncertain. “I hope I did the right thing.”
“I could barely form sentences. You did the right thing.” I smile, and we both laugh.
We spend the next hour chatting, and digging into burgers and fries. I didn’t realize I had been quite that hungry, and made Tom laugh as I practically ravaged my food. I suppose it’s not every day that you see a girl in an evening gown devouring greasy diner food. He keeps up with me, ordering a piece of pie with ice cream for us to share at the end.
It would be easier to walk away if our conversation weren’t effortless. It would be easier if he weren’t so charming and easy going. He’s intelligent and funny and when he laughs, there are tiny lines that appear at the sides of his eyes.
It would be easier to just walk away, if I didn’t get that warm, lusty punch in the gut whenever I heard his laugh, or whenever he looked at me with those ocean blue eyes. It would be easier if we weren’t both lonely and alone in a big city. He has this way of making me feel comfortable. Despite everything, the nightmare from earlier is erased and it’s suddenly one of the nicest evenings I’ve had in a long, long time.
And it is easy. It’s so easy. So when we finish our late dinner, he pays for the check, and then we both decide that his hotel would be better than mine because he’s staying at The Jefferson in a suite, and I’ve got a regular room at a Hilton. Easy peasy.