Fourth of July was always a big deal at the paper. Each year, Zebra rented a yacht in Marina del Rey, stuck everyone out on the water, and drank until the fireworks went off, physically and emotionally. But this time was different. The relationships between the staff members had been irrevocably altered, and most of the crew decided to fend for themselves. Those left over made do with a box at Los Angeles’ famous outdoor amphitheatre, the Hollywood Bowl.
Five people. Alex. Dashiell. Josh. Jessica. And, surprise, surprise, Avalon, who had returned from her self-imposed hiatus, showing up suddenly at work in a flurry of activity, as if she’d never been gone. The uneven number of partiers was made even more uneven because of the twisted situations tying the group together. The five sat outside, under the deep purple sky, drinking good wine and talking when the music stopped as if everything was normal. But after several glasses, the atmosphere changed.
‘What do you want?’ Avalon murmured, her voice slurred.
Four people turned to look at her. ‘Who?’ Dashiell finally asked.
‘You. Any of you. What do you want?’
‘From what?’ Josh asked, his voice serious.
‘Life,’ Avalon said, and then she started to laugh.
‘You can’t play us like that, Granger. We know when you’re taping,’ Dashiell told her forcefully. ‘We’re not your sappy little interview subjects.’
At his words, Jessica flushed, and Alex immediately looked over at her. Before he could speak, Avalon stood unsteadily and reached into her pocket for her recorder. While the others watched, she took out the tape and slit the fine cellophane with one of her spade-shaped crimson nails. Slowly, she pulled out the glistening strands, wrapping them around and around one wrist until they took on the appearance of punk-rock jewellery. The music started up again, but there was notable silence in their private box, as the stunned partiers stared at their drunken mate.
‘We’re all grown-ups. We all have wants. Needs. Can’t you name them?’
When they continued to stare at her, she said, ‘Fine, I’ll start.’ Moving back to sit against the pillowed chair, she sprawled out so that her feet were in Josh’s lap and he absent-mindedly began to stroke them. It was obvious to Jessica then that they were lovers, something she’d never realised in the past. That was a weakness in her observation skills, she thought. A better journalist would have caught on to the fact that their public declarations of distaste were simply a well-crafted disguise to hide what was going on in their bedroom after hours.
‘I want to get off the merry-go-round,’ Avalon said. ‘That’s why I went away. I am tired of riding the ride.’ She closed her eyes and rested her head on Jessica’s shoulder, and Jessica thought this was Avalon’s way of saying, ‘Tag, sweetheart, you’re it.’ But Jessica had no idea what to say. She’d seen movies like this, where characters came clean about their inner secrets, revealing things that nobody in real life ever did. In the darkened safety of a movie house, she’d always found herself jealous of that type of freedom. Now that it was available to her, she couldn’t compete.
It turned out that she didn’t have to. Josh, his hands making slow and steady circles along the balls of Avalon’s feet, took charge. ‘You can get off the ride any time, Ava. You know that. You’ve always known that.’
The gossip columnist opened her eyes and stared at him, and the defiant angle of her chin jutting in his direction challenged him to keep talking. Other people nearby were staring at them, wanting to tell them to be quiet, Jessica thought, but not daring to interrupt. There was fire in Avalon’s green eyes and in the heat of her expression.
‘This isn’t really the place,’ Dashiell said calmly, a look of bemused wonderment on his face. Had he also not realised that Josh and Avalon were lovers? She tilted her head to look over at Alex, and there she saw flat-out recognition. He was the only one who’d understood the connection between the two staff members, and he was simply waiting to see how it would play out.
‘There never is a good place,’ Josh told Dashiell, although he kept his eyes on Avalon. ‘Never a good place to drop the mask.’
‘Who wears a mask?’ Dashiell asked, obviously trying to keep the party at a light-hearted level, when they all knew that each one of them wore masks. Dashiell was more guilty of this, perhaps, than anyone else.
Josh didn’t answer him. ‘You ready, Ava?’
There was so much emotion between the two that Jessica felt as if she could see it, like the kaleidoscope of multicoloured lights that suddenly began to explode over the open concert hall. Now there was literally no way to speak. Rockets lit the sky and the reverberations of the firecrackers made talking an impossibility. But Josh didn’t need to talk. Instead, he slipped one hand into his jacket pocket and took out a thin blue box. Jessica felt her heart race, and when she looked to Avalon, she saw tears in the gossip columnist’s eyes.
Luminous red and gold showers of light streaked across the sky. The orchestra reached the fevered crescendo. And Avalon Granger put her hand out to touch the side of Josh’s face as she started to cry.
When the finale was over, the fireworks done both outside the booth and within, Josh cleared his throat. ‘You wouldn’t let me talk,’ he said. ‘Now it’s about time.’ At these words, he pulled out a beautifully crafted ladies’ watch and fastened the band around Avalon’s wrist. The columnist smiled through her tears as she looked down and saw the second hand ticking away.
‘It’s about time,’ he repeated, his voice the most serious that she’d ever heard it. ‘Time for you to get over that tough-girl attitude you like to show off. Time to take me seriously, Ava.’ He paused, and then softly asked, ‘Are you ready?’
* * *
After that, five became three. Josh and Avalon left together, off to sort out the rest of their life, Jessica thought, or at least the rest of the evening. She, Alex and Dashiell remained in the box as the audience filtered out. There was no hurry. Especially once Dashiell had revealed an unopened bottle of eighteen-year-old Scotch. There weren’t any glasses left, but that didn’t bother the three remaining Zebra staff members. They passed the bottle around, lips drinking directly from the glass.
Alex stared from Jessica to Dashiell and back to Jessica again. Dashiell had a faraway look in his eyes, unreadable. Nobody seemed willing to make the first move in the conversation, so Alex sat silent with the others, thinking. Josh had won his game. Had played it correctly hands down. Never pushing his prize. Simply being there for her, to use at her will, and then finally letting her see who he truly was. The one who loved her.
It was a strange sight when masks came off, wasn’t it?
Was it time for him to take his own off with Jessica?
If only he could be sure.
* * *
‘You thought what?’ Josh asked, staring down at Avalon, surprise gleaming in his eyes.
‘Tiffany,’ she said.
‘You’re crazy,’ he told her, kissing the line of her neck to soften the words. ‘That’s why you stopped talking to me?’
‘Who else?’ she asked. ‘When I heard you’d gone shopping, I assumed you were buying a ring.’
‘I don’t do things based on ultimatums,’ Josh said. ‘You should know me that well.’
Avalon sighed, then looked down at her watch, which was the only thing she was still wearing. ‘When you get used to digging for secrets, sometimes it’s difficult to put things in perspective.’
‘But now?’
She kissed him back as an answer, and then she pulled him towards her, so that they were joined again. Sitting up in the bed, Avalon’s thighs were over Josh’s, and the two locked eyes as they grew as close together as they possibly could. Staying perfectly still, their bodies responded silently to each other. Avalon’s pussy squeezed and released on Josh’s cock, drawing him even deeper inside of her. Making him one with her.
As the power flowed between them, creating a full circle of pleasure, Avalon realised that Tantric sex was something that you could really only do with someone you loved. And this was no game.