Two to Tango: Brits in Manhattan Book Two by Laura Carter

Author:Laura Carter [Carter, Laura]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Boldwood Books

19

BROOKS

Day 4

Rather than eating breakfast alone, I have Angie rustle up my green shake in the bistro. There is no sign of Izzy all morning. I keep checking between my PT sessions, and when I have half an hour to myself, I find myself sitting at my desk, staring at the empty chair next to me.

At lunchtime, Angie makes me a garden salad and I eat on a stool, talking to her both for company and for distraction. I miss Izzy. I don’t know how or why but I do. You know the phrase I’ve missed you like a hole in the head? It’s supposed to mean, you wouldn’t miss a hole in your head, therefore you don’t miss the person you’re talking about, right? Well, suppose you did have a hole in your head. It’s painful as hell most of the time but one day it closes up. The ache is gone and it feels like something that has become a part of you has disappeared. That’s the only way I can describe the peculiar way I wish Izzy was here. I miss her like a hole in the head.

At two thirty, the agreed-upon time for our Saturday salsa session, I head up to Studio A. The number of reporters is fewer by half today, no doubt because it’s the weekend. I have no idea whether Izzy will show, so I have no idea what to say to them. I just stand in the middle of the room, waiting. Feeling exposed and ridiculous.

After five minutes of standing around, my legs seem to lose their energy and I sit on the floor in the middle of the room.

‘Where is she, Brooks?’ Steve Sitwell asks.

‘I really don’t know, man. Sorry.’

After ten minutes, I lie back on the wood floor, my knees bent. Two reporters leave. I don’t care. I just want to see her and say I’m sorry.

When fifteen minutes have elapsed, my sympathy for her, my guilt because I kick-started our almost sex and abandoned it midway, are gone. I stand up and turn to the remaining four reporters, or bloggers, or whoever they are.

‘Sorry, folks, I guess she couldn’t handle two weeks after all.’

‘Oh, wow! Sorry I’m late.’ Just then, Izzy walks in and dumps bag after bag of what look like shoe boxes and clothes in the corner of the room. ‘There was an enormous sale in Prada.’

She finally meets my eyes and there is fire in her own. But not like the flames between us last night. No, these are satanic flames.

‘My apologies, Mr Adams, I made a unilateral decision to change something we had already committed to.’

I feel my eyes narrow. ‘That’s how you want to deal with this?’

She clears her throat, her focus moving from pressing a remote control in the direction of the large projector screen back to me. ‘I’m sorry, this?’

‘Wow, you really do only know how to get your own way, don’t you? Screw doing the right thing.’

She lets out one angry laugh.

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