Pas de Deux Page 17

  “Was I that obvious?” Mallory asked Addison. It hadn’t been her intention to draw enough attention to herself that the audience noticed, she had only been trying to salvage the piece.

  “No,” Addison whispered, her eyes crinkled with her smile as she shook her head. “I was pretty much ignoring everyone else and just watching you,” she admitted in an even softer voice. “You were a vision up there tonight, Mal. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

  And, oh, Addison’s eyes now were full of such open wonder that her heart all but leapt into her throat, and she had to clear it twice before she was able to rasp, “Addy…”

  “Mal,” Addy murmured.

  “Not that you two aren’t adorable as hell,” Siobhan chuckled, “but I didn’t get a chance to eat before the performance, and I’m famished. Fancy going somewhere for a bite and a bevvy?”

  Mallory arched a brow at Addison. “Well?”

  Addison smiled and nodded as she tucked her hand in the crook of Mallory’s arm. “Sounds wonderful.”

  “It does,” Mallory agreed softly as her gaze dropped to the way Addison’s fingers curled around her biceps.

  “And now that that’s settled,” Siobhan drawled, “and keeping in mind that it’s Saturday night, where shall we go?”

  “I know of a good little place near The Royal Ballet, but I don’t know if it’d be too far out of the way for you guys,” Addison offered.

  “We’re in Notting Hill, so that would work fine for us,” Will said, glancing at Siobhan who nodded her agreement. “Right, then,” he looked to Mallory and Addison, “so, underground or taxi?”

  “It would probably be faster on the underground,” Addison admitted, “but I think, with your instruments and everything, that it would be easier to go by car.”

  “Brilliant.” Siobhan turned toward the exit. “Shall we?”

  Enough time had passed since the end of their performance to thin the crowd leaving the centre, they were able to grab the lone black taxi idling at the queue without having to wait. It was a bit cramped, trying to fit four adults, two instrument cases, and one bouquet into the back seat, but it was a far more appealing option than splitting up and leaving half the group to wait for a second car.

  “Where to?” the driver asked as he pulled into traffic.

  “Covent Garden,” Addison answered, turning in her seat to angle her body toward the driver as she pulled her phone from her purse. “Corner of Endell and Shelton.”

  “On it, Miss. You lot just sit back and enjoy the ride.”

  Addison turned back to Will and Siobhan and tilted her head as her lips quirked in a small, hesitant smile. “I hope you guys like this place. It’s one of the favorites with the company.”

  The hint of nerves was adorable given Addison’s usual confidence, and Mallory was grateful for the darkness that surrounded them as she felt her gaze soften as she looked at her. It was easier to remember why she shouldn’t allow herself to fall for Addison when she was working, or they were apart, but the moment Addison entered her orbit, her heart forgot all those valid reasons she should be keeping her distance.

  They pulled to a stop at a signal, and Mallory’s breath caught in her throat at the sheer beauty of the woman beside her. It was ridiculous, really, given that they saw each other nearly every day and that, by this point, there was very little of Addison’s visage she hadn’t all but committed to memory, but there was something different tonight. Perhaps it was the bouquet she cradled on her lap, or the hint of Addison’s perfume that she swore lingered on her collar, or the memory of soft lips ghosting over her cheek, but whatever the case—she found herself wanting to reach across the space between them and take Addison’s hand into her own to assure her with a touch that she had no reason to worry.

  And, if they had been alone, she might have—because she was increasingly helpless to resist the pull of Addison’s presence—but they weren’t, so she didn’t. It was one thing to accept this shift in herself in private, but it was quite another to do so in front of her friends.

  So instead of reaching for Addison as she longed to do, she nudged her foot with her own and murmured, “They will.”

  After all, she had found the restaurant to be utterly charming when Addison had taken her there the night she had gone to her performance.

  Mallory’s shoulders tensed at the way Will’s gaze drifted between her and Addison, his brow pinching ever so slightly as he studied them, but his grin was genuine as he told Addison, “We’re not a picky lot.” He sighed as he looped his arm over the back of Siobhan’s shoulders. “How’s everything over at the ballet? Mal said they’ve finally given you a performance date?”

  Addison nodded. “First Friday in January. Going to kick off the new year with a bang.”

  “Or a boom,” Mallory drawled. She chuckled at the look of righteous indignation Addison threw her way in response. “What?”

  “Hush, you. We’ve got a little less than two months left to prepare, still.” Addison shook her head as she looked back at Will and Siobhan. “Honestly, we could probably debut it earlier, but we’re gearing up for the holiday season. The Nutcracker brings in enough to keep the lights on for the rest of the year, so Nina wanted to wait until that run was finished.”

  “Makes sense,” Siobhan allowed.

  “We’ve got our media shoot Tuesday, though, so that should be fun.” Addison smiled at Mallory.

  “Like, brochure and website pictures and stuff?” Siobhan asked.

  Mallory hummed and nodded. “And a video, apparently.”

  “We do short little trailer-type clips for the webpage,” Addison explained. It was her turn to bump their feet together as she added, “And you’ll be wonderful, Mal.”

  “That’s debatable,” Will quipped laughingly.

  “Oh, sod off, you,” Addison shot back. That made Will laugh even harder, and she shook her head as she leaned over to murmur in Mallory’s ear, “Don’t listen to him. We’re going to crush it.”

  The tickle of Addison’s breath against her skin sent a pleasant thrill up Mallory’s spine, and this time she wasn’t at all strong enough to resist the urge to reach out and take Addison’s hand in her own as she replied, “We will.”

  Addison’s eyes sparkled with happiness as she squeezed her hand and bumped their foreheads together. “Yeah, we will.”

  Mallory took a deep breath and let it go slowly as she whispered, “Addy…” Her stomach fluttered at the way Addison’s eyelids fluttered shut and her breath hitched ever so softly in response, and she clenched her jaw as she forced herself to pull away.

  The way Addison whimpered at the loss of contact was nearly enough to draw her back in, but she wasn’t ready. Not yet, anyway. And certainly not with an audience.

  She fully expected to find Will and Siobhan watching them with sly, knowing grins on their faces when she turned their way, and was pleasantly surprised to find that they were each focused intently on the glowing screens of their phones. Though, the hint of a smirk that tugged at each of their mouths told her that she would undoubtedly be hearing about this later.

  The rest of the ride passed in companionable silence, and Mallory couldn’t help but smile at the way Addison protested when Will insisted on paying the fare.

  “Come on, darling,” Mallory cajoled, reaching for Addison’s hand and giving it a light tug. “Let’s go see about securing a table while he settles up with the driver.”

  After a brief wait, they were shown to a large, empty circular booth in the back corner of the upper level of the two-story restaurant. As there were no other empty tables on which to set their things, Mallory and Will hung their instruments from the coat hangers mounted on either side of the booth, and they all piled their coats in the curve of the bench instead.

  “You’re not too cramped?” Mallory asked Addison as she laid her bouquet atop their coats.

  Addison shook her head. “Not at all.”

  “This place is lovely.” Siobhan looked
around the restaurant. The walls were painted a soft cream, and the windows that overlooked the street below were framed by rich, pomegranate-colored drapes that were an homage to the restaurant’s name.

  “I’m glad you like it.” Addison smiled.

  Conversation flowed smoothly as they perused the menus the hostess had left for them, and continued even after their food and drinks had arrived. Even though it wasn’t the first time that Addison had been around Will and Siobhan, Mallory was still surprised by how well they all got on. So much of her life anymore was spent running from one profession to the other, and it was nice to be able to enjoy having them intersect for a bit.

  Nicer still, was to do it while Addison’s shoulder rested lightly against her own and, every so often, she’d shift a little closer, long, lean limbs curving against her side as the late hour and the warmth of the moment and the gentle buzz of playful banter and smooth wine combined to wrap them in a cocoon of pure bliss.

  “Márquez? Really?” Will exclaimed with a mischievous grin as he picked up his glass and downed the dregs of his wine. Their plates had long since been cleared and the cheque settled, but none of them were in a hurry to call an end to the evening and their conversation currently revolved around what classical music Addison had discovered.

  “What’s wrong with Márquez?” Addison shot back.

  “Nothing. I mean, if you’re into that kind of stuff…” Will sassed.

  “Wait,” Siobhan interrupted their playful bickering and rounded on her husband. “You love Márquez.”

  “Ha!” Addison cheered, pointing at him victoriously.

  “Way to take the piss outta me, darlin’,” Will grumbled. “What else you got?” he asked Addison.

  “Why do I feel like this has turned into a pop-quiz?” Addison muttered, shaking her head. “Oh, I know one. I just found it the other day. Symphony in Blue. Have you heard of that one, Mr. Know-It-All?”

  The smile that had been playing on Mallory’s lips as she listened to Addison and Will go back-and-forth with each other fell at the mention of Gwen’s work, and she clenched her jaw against the residual hurt and betrayal that she was sure would soon ice through her chest.

  Only it didn’t.

  Not as strongly as she’d expected, anyway.

  But before she could really begin to wrap her head around that, she was dragged back to the conversation.

  “Aye…” Will murmured, and god, she hated the worry that flashed in his expression as he looked at her. Hated the way it reminded her of her darkest days those first few weeks after, when she was staying in their guest room while waiting to close on her apartment, and he would sit with her while she raged and then hold her tight until she fell asleep.

  Hated, even more, the way Siobhan’s expression mirrored his, because she had been there to pick her up and put her back together on just as many nights as he had.

  But anger was good, she figured, because it had been anger and an unhealthy amount of spite that had kept her moving through those weeks and months until she could wake up and get through an entire day without thinking about it all.

  Addison frowned as she looked from them to Mallory. One would have to be blind to not notice their concern, after all, and she shook her head as she murmured, “What?”

  “It’s nothing, darling,” Mallory muttered, hating the way her voice nearly broke under the weight of the lie. God, how she wished she wasn’t such a disaster that simply the mention of a piece of music could bring what had been a perfect evening to a flaming end. “He’s heard of it. We all have.”

  Addison’s frown deepened. “I don’t understand…”

  “I know you don’t,” Mallory sighed. How could Addison possibly understand when she avoided talking about that part of her life? She glanced at the tables around them. The crowd had thinned while they’d lingered in conversation, but the half-full tables were still enough to make her feel claustrophobic, and she could feel her pulse beginning to race, urging her to run, run, run. “You see, I…” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, I will explain, I swear, but I’d really prefer to not get into it here.”

  “I’m getting tired anyway,” Siobhan offered as Will nodded beside her and made generic sounds of agreement. “So why don’t we call it a night.”

  Addison nodded slowly, a mix of confusion and something close to fear clouding her eyes as she whispered, “Okay.”

  Mallory offered her friends a tight smile, assuring them that she would be okay before she turned to Addison and asked in a hushed voice, “May I walk you home?”

  They were only a few blocks from Addison’s place, after all. And this way she would have less time to talk herself out of doing what she knew needed to be done.

  Addison’s expression shifted by a fraction into something Mallory couldn’t quite recognize—and that made Mallory’s heart skip more than one beat because, after everything she had suffered, she would be damned if she lost whatever this thing was between them to it too—but, after a brief pause, she dipped her chin in a short nod. “Yeah. Okay…”

  Perspective was a funny thing, Mallory mused as she hugged the bouquet Addison had given her closer to her chest. For so long, she had thought that nothing could hurt her as much as Gwen had. Would have sworn that there was nothing, nothing that could knock her off her feet like that night.

  But she had been wrong.

  Because watching Addison walk beside her with her head down, shoulders hunched and rolled forward, and her hands jammed into the pockets of her coat felt, in this moment, where the past was apparently truly moving beyond the veil and out of reach, a thousand times worse. She had expected Addison to ask her about what had happened the moment Will and Siobhan were out of earshot, but the question never came, and she was too afraid of saying the wrong thing to be the first to break the uneasy silence that befell them.

  After more than two months of easy conversation and playful banter, of light touches and hugs, this quiet, this distance that had spawned between them was stifling. She longed to say something that would cause Addison’s shoulders to relax and replace the pensive set of her mouth with a smile, but she hadn’t a clue what those magic words might be. From the day they first met, Addison had been the one to make things between them work and, without her leading the way, Mallory was lost.

  “Do you want to hang up your things?” Addison asked, her voice soft and wary as she led the way into her cramped foyer. She didn’t look over her shoulder at Mallory as she shrugged off her coat and hung it and her purse on the hooks beneath the mirror mounted on the wall behind the door that served as the entryway’s only bit of furniture.

  Mallory’s throat tightened when Addison finally, finally looked at her and she saw that the warmth and humor she was so used to seeing in her eyes was replaced with uncertainty and confusion, and licked her lips as she nodded.

  “Okay. Do you want me to put those in water?” Addison motioned toward the bouquet Mallory had cradled against her chest.

  “Please.” Mallory handed her the flowers, and her heart leapt at the feeling of Addison’s fingers brushing ever so lightly against her own.

  “I’ll be in the kitchen, then, when you’re ready.”

  Mallory sighed as she watched Addison turn and walk away, and quickly divested herself of her violin, purse, coat, and heels. She had been to Addison’s place a handful of times after rehearsal, on those nights when a quiet, simple home-cooked meal sounded more appealing than a less labor-intensive one out, so she knew the layout of the one-bedroom flat well enough that she didn’t hesitate to make her way through the combined reception room and dining area to the small kitchen at the other end of the space.

  The sound of clinking glass and running water beckoned her forward, and her stockings slid silently over slightly scarred bamboo floors. She glanced at the sitting area that fronted Addison’s entertainment center, noting that there was a new Maeve Dylan book tossed idly onto the coffee table that sat in the middle of the gray patterned rug, an
d that nearly all of the sunshine yellow throw pillows from the two overstuffed sofas and single armchair seemed to have migrated to the corner of the larger couch nearest the light. An image of Addison curled around the pillows, one between her knees and the others in a cocoon around her sides because she always, always lounged on a sofa with her legs tucked up beneath her instead of sitting, flashed across her mind, and she swallowed around the lump it created in her throat.

  Addison was standing at the sink when she eventually made her way past the small, four-person dining table to the kitchen, and she ran a hand through her hair as she looked at her. She still had no idea where to begin, and being surrounded by Addison’s things made her even more afraid that this was the point in their relationship that she had been dreading—the one where she did the wrong thing and ruined the whole thing.

  Mallory was standing there, quite literally wringing her hands in front of herself when Addison looked up, her dark eyes pinched at the corners and her lower lip caught between her teeth. “Oh, Addy…”

  Addison shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “Wait…what?” Mallory frowned and took a step toward her. “Why in the world are you apologizing?”

  Addison rolled her eyes. “I don’t know, maybe because I’m pretty sure you stopped breathing when I mentioned that stupid symphony, and Will and Siobhan looked about ready to bundle you in their arms and hustle you away to safety somewhere? I didn’t mean to upset anyone; it was just the first thing that came to mind when Will pressed me for another song. And, I mean, I will be the first to admit that I don’t really know anything about music, not like you, but I just…”

  “Oh, Addy, no.” Mallory shook her head as she reached past Addison to turn off the water that had nearly reached the top of the glass vase she’d been filling. “No, darling. You didn’t do anything, wrong.” Addison had already pulled the bouquet from the plastic bag that covered the stems that extended beyond the bouquet’s cellophane sleeve, so she picked up the flowers and pushed them into the vase. She wiped her hands off on the dish towel sitting beside the sink, and then turned to Addison, offering her a small, sad smile. “I haven’t been checking music sites for the symphony, but I’m guessing you found it on YouTube?”