I found myself, a moment later, seated at a small table by a window, sunlight streaming over both of us, Reggie’s elegantly crossed legs giving me a full view of those stunning stilettos while we sipped our coffee and she grinned at me.
“What are you doing back in Martingale?” She tapped some sugar into her cup, stirred and tasted it, before repeating the process to her liking. The cream and sugar I’d added to mine made me jittery. Or maybe that was nerves. “I’d heard you’d run off to Hollywood to be famous like your mother.”
I almost winced, except there was no malice or any sort of attack in Reggie’s comment. She’d always played straight with me, had never gone the mean girl route, so I decided to be honest.
“Didn’t work out,” I said, sitting back with the resume face down on the table.
Reggie’s nose wrinkled while she clucked softly. “I hear you, girl,” she said, waving one hand at me, long nails painted to match her pale pink lips. “I can’t tell you how many crap jobs I had to tolerate before my luck turned around.” She hummed a soft little sound that was all commiseration and actually made me feel better. “Daddy always wanted me to join the family business, but I’m not interested. Decided to go my own way.” She nodded firmly like that was that and he could just forget about it. My extremely selfish brain wondered what her father did and if he’d substitute his daughter’s friend for the real thing while she went on. “I was this close,” she pinched her index finger and thumb together to make her point, “to trading my pride and caving to Daddy’s offer.” She rolled her eyes as if she assumed I understood how horrific that outcome would have been.
“Something came up, I take it?” For all I knew her father’s profession would mean Reggie was relegated to a life of mediocrity and a slowly eaten soul, so I totally understood. So far, so good, especially since she seemed to have come out the other end in great shape. Did that mean hope did exist? Suddenly, I was even happier I ran into her.
Reggie smiled and went on. “You still dancing?” Her change of subject startled me, as did the way she quickly scanned me as though sizing up my potential. For what? A faint frown pulled her brows together as she did, the impression I had just been turned into a possible commodity making me uncomfortable. I didn’t get to answer while Reggie spoke again, nails clicking on the tabletop as she tapped them on the surface. “Doesn’t matter. Besides, it was my thing, not yours.” I remembered her passion for ballet, for all things dance. “So, here I am, dancing in sideshows you know aren’t doing much for a girl’s rep as a professional,” she bobbed a nod for emphasis, “when my great-great Uncle Joseph up and kicks it. Can you imagine, he leaves me this old building he’d bought years ago, right on the outskirts of D.C.” She chuckled to herself while I shook my head in wonder. Turned out Rambling Reggie hadn’t changed a bit. “The place hadn’t been renovated since the 20s, can you believe it?” She sounded delighted, not offended by that fact. “You know I took advantage of all that history.” She beamed at me, fishing into her designer purse that set off my jealous acquisitiveness yet again, handing me a shining black card. I glanced at it as she went on. “Started up my very own burlesque dance hall,” she said, taking the card with Full Reveal Theater written across the silhouette of a voluptuous woman, flipping it over and forcing it back into my hand, tapping the back side with one long nail. “And a gentleman’s club upstairs, for good measure.” The After Hours Club. “I’ve been open two years and already paid off the renovations and I’m turning a profit.”
I smiled, finding I was actually happy for her. “Good for you, Reggie,” I said. “Sorry, Regina.”
She beamed as she sat back, expensive high heel bobbing. “Listen to me, chattering on like this and not giving you a chance to say a word.” So, she had changed. The old Reggie hadn’t seemed self-aware of the fact she was a chatterbox. “What about you, Petal? What are you up to?”
Dread settled around me, triggered by those two innocent questions loaded with guilt and lack. Only one thing to do.
Deflect. “My fathers are living here again,” I blurted to cover up my anxious embarrassment. “Dad’s teaching at Quantico and Pops is at the college.”
“Nice to be able to move close to family,” she said. “Though sometimes I think leaving D.C. would be a good idea. Daddy’s always in my business, you know?” Did I. “Mom’s back in Chicago.” She showed her sadness suddenly, as though it appeared when she thought about her mother’s absence. I knew the feeling. “Though my Aunt Pearl is in D.C., so I have someone of a maternal nature.” She blanched briefly, reaching out to touch my hand. “I’m sorry,” she said, clearly contrite and embarrassed by her casual conversation. “I keep forgetting about your mother.”
Nice of her to mention it, but I honestly hadn’t had a negative reaction and shook my head in response. “You’re allowed to love your mom,” I said. “And your aunt. I make do with two dads. It’s just life.”
She smiled again, sitting back and sipping her coffee before rambling on while I hoped she’d change the subject. “You and Rafe still together?”
Okay, so changing the subject wasn’t exactly turning out the way I’d hoped. “Not for years now,” I said, knowing I finally sounded sad myself, hating my jaw clenched against the old hurt of walking away from the man I loved, our short-lived marriage at twenty-one barely a memory. I purposely blocked as many thoughts of Raphael Van Dorn as possible. It was only natural, I guess, that Reggie asked.
She flinched and leaned forward, grasping one of my hands yet again with an apologetic expression on her face.
“I’m sorry, girl,” she said. “I keep putting my foot in it for some reason.” She sagged in her seat, leaning away, staring into her cup. “I know better than to ask stuff like that. I’ve had my own share of boys cycle in and out.” She shook her head, sighed. “It’s just, you and Rafe, well. Everyone thought you two were forever. Though, who knows in high school what forever really means?” She tsked again, looking out the window. “Didn’t he join the Marines or something?”
I nodded, throat and mouth dry but able to respond and proud of myself for that fact. “He finished the training,” I said, “but he was recruited before he deployed. Private security firm.” It had been part of what drove us apart, oddly. Instead of leaving me to serve our country, he’d taken a job that would keep him home. Why had I held that against him again?
“That Raphael Van Dorn,” Reggie said, winking despite the sadness in her eyes. “I bet he’s still as handsome as ever. Either that, or he’s bald and gone to pot.” Her rich laugh made me grin, though I knew better.
Rafe wasn’t named after an archangel for nothing. The man was, and would always be, muscular, blond, blue-eyed heaven-sent and meant for no mortal woman.
I stared down into my cooling coffee, seeing his face though I hadn’t actually seen him in a few years. “Some things just weren’t meant to be.”
Reggie patted my hand as her phone began to ring. She checked it, muttering something under her breath, suddenly on the move, surging to her feet, her slim but voluptuous body aquiver with energy I remembered all too well. She’d never been one to sit still for long. She did pause, however, to set one hand on my shoulder.
“It was nice to see you, Petal,” she said, so genuine it made my eyes sting with lurking tears. “I hate to run, but…” She scowled to herself, shook her head, then beamed another smile. “Come to the club tonight, you hear? I’ll have a ticket for the show for you at the box office.” She tucked her phone in her purse, about to rush off before I could deny the offer. “See you then!”
I waved as she strode away, those high heels carrying her short frame faster than I could have walked, while I sat back in my chair and stared out the window myself, lost in thought. Suddenly filled with hope.
Reggie found her thing. That meant I could, too, right? Maybe this meeting with her was a sign from the Universe or something. That I shouldn’t give up on myself, on what made me happy. I just had to figure out what that was.
No small task. But with my old acquaintance’s enthusiasm for her life fueling mine in a renewed desire for happiness, I left the coffee shop, resume forgotten, and headed for home and some research into what made Petal Morgan tick.
***