Page 73 of Marlowe Banks, Redesigned
“I’ve put ten years into this career. I’ve known Maria for less than a month.”
“But you guys have potential, right? You recognize that you found something unique in each other, something that fits and feels right and makes you both happy in a meaningful way. You wouldn’t want to just end things?”
Cherry shrugged again but her creases only deepened. Marlowe watched her, recalling how giddy she’d been after her first night with Maria. Marlowe understood that giddiness well, even if her own feelings were mixed with a heavy dose of anxiety. How strange to fear the loss of someone whose presence had only just begun to matter. But also to know with complete certainty that the loss would be profound.
“Maybe I could become bicoastal,” she said. “I can spend two or three months in New York and then fly back to pick up another gig here.”
Cherry raised a brow. “You can afford to keep two apartments? Pay for the flights? Deal with being unemployed half the time because the jobs won’t line up perfectly when you’re not available to follow a team from one show to the next?”
Marlowe shifted uncomfortably as she considered Cherry’spoints. If she left in October, even temporarily, someone else would take her spot on Babs’s team. Marlowe would have to start from ground zero again if she returned, building new connections, proving herself to other designers. Rebooting her theater career also meant being present in New York, setting up interviews, attending opening nights, networking in that community. All of that was hard enough in one city. Could she really do it in two?
“Your call,” Cherry said. “I can finish the drive or I can turn the car around.”
Marlowe opened her phone and skimmed through past text conversations with Angus. Words flashed by:garnish,cattle,detective,butler,luck,curse,tacos,disguise,jeans,dog,freckled ear. Over only a couple of weeks, she and Angus had already begun building a private language, the accumulation of symbolic mementos that cemented connections between two people. It was a good language so far. It wasn’t weighed down with accusations and guilt trips and power plays. It was full of laughter and joy.
She lowered her phone and looked out at the next bend in the road, lit by warm pools of light from the illuminated gates that flanked it.
“Do you still think it’s possible to be in love with someone you’ve only known for a few days?” she asked.
Cherry took a breath, allowing the question a moment to settle.
“It’s definitely not impossible,” she said.
“My thoughts exactly.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
Cherry pulled up to Angus’s gate, leaning forward and squinting toward the house.
“Nice place,” she said.
“No kidding, though it’s homier on the inside than it seems from the outside.” Marlowe checked her makeup in the embedded visor mirror before smoothing out her skirt. Thankfully she’d put on a cute dress that morning. It was pale yellow, in a fit-and-flare style that was well suited for cycling in Paris with a baguette and a bouquet in the handlebar basket. While cycling probably wasn’t on the night’s agenda, she was pleased to arrive at Angus’s house in something more attractive than an overwashed T-shirt covered in dog hair and congealed vanilla shake.
“Maria’s meeting me for a late dinner in Santa Monica,” Cherry said, “but I can be back here in about half an hour if you change your mind and need a ride.”
“I doubt that will be necessary.”
“Offer still stands.”
Marlowe gave Cherry a big hug. Then she got out of the car, called Angus through the speaker box to let him know she’d arrived,and waited until he buzzed the gate open. She was halfway up the driveway when he stepped through his front door and jogged forward to meet her. He was wearing his usual jeans and white tee, plus the ridiculous knit ski hat he’d held on to when he gave her his Yankees cap.
“I don’t think we’re expecting snow,” she said through a laugh.
“Doesn’t matter. It got a smile out of you.” He swept her into an embrace. She breathed in the smell of his soap and shampoo. The scents weren’t fruity or flowery, nor did they conjure images of avalanches or waterfalls. He simply smelled clean, and while Marlowe was the furthest thing from a clean freak, she found the smell incredibly sexy.
“Thanks for inviting me over.” She drew back, but only far enough to meet his eyes.
“Thanks for agreeing to come.” He pulled her in for a kiss that felt so easy, so natural, Marlowe got the sense he’d already moved past all of the questions she was still wrestling with. “Did you get a chance to stop for dinner while you were working?”
“What do you think?”
He kept an arm hooked around her waist and led her toward the front door.
“Let’s get you fed. Then you can tell me about your car, and your workday, and anything else you want to get off your chest.”
While helping prepare a pasta dish with homemade pesto, Marlowe stopped stressing about Big Questions. She was calmed by Angus’s relaxed presence and her usual enjoyment of joint creation. His determination to slowly overturn her revulsion of green food also amused her. It was sweet, and it implied he was already picturingmore meals together. The idea made her smile despite all of her earlier unease. It also confirmed that they needed to clarify a few expectations before tearing off each other’s clothes again.
Over dinner, they chatted about the past few days. She told him about her car, and shopping for Lola’s perfect pink ensemble, and even kicking Kelvin out of her apartment. He told her about the gala, and discussions he’d been having with his PR rep, and filming a sex scene in a rose garden, which was far less romantic than it sounded, thanks to the dirt, rocks, and random thorns the greens crew hadn’t fully pared away. The conversation flowed effortlessly, as though the two of them had known each other for ages. Marlowe didn’t even realize almost two hours had passed until she and Angus were putting their pre-rinsed dishes in the dishwasher.
