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"God, just go. Just go. I was an idiot to ever think..." That this could work, that they could have something. That she could, indeed, have the things she wanted.
Alex gives her one last withering look before walking away. "Sure. Have a good life, Angelica."
She shudders, turns away from him before she does something stupid. Like cry, or beg him to stay. Instead she forces out the words she knows are unforgivable. “You need to go. Keep the money for tonight, just don’t… don’t contact me again.”
She runs. Away, away, all that matters is away. Her heels clack against the sidewalks as she hails a cab. "Manhattan," she tells the driver. "Just take me back to Manhattan."
She cries the entire way, only raising her head once they cross the bridge and the buildings start to look familiar again.
"Where to?" Her driver asks.
"Nowhere," she says morosely. He gives her an odd look. "Fine, just let me out here. This is fine." It's not as though she has plans for the rest of the night. She hands the driver some money and starts off down the street, ducking into the first diner she sees. They hadn't eaten at the restaurant, and she's absolutely starving.
"Just one?" The hostess asks. It's late, for dinner at a diner, and there's only a few tables scattered throughout the restaurant. "Right this way, Maria will be with you shortly. Enjoy your meal." She tucks Angelica into a little alcove by the washroom, but Angelica doesn't mind; right now she wants to hide. She sinks down into the seat and buries her head in her arms.
"Pot of coffee to perk you up?" A woman asks. Angelica lifts her head. Her waitress is a young woman with thick curls pulled back into a ponytail and bright red lipstick. It fits the diner's 50s theme awfully well, and Angelica can’t help but notice how lovely she is.
"Please."
"Be right back with that. You know what you want?"
"Hm? Oh." She hasn't even opened the menu yet. Sheepishly, Angelica scans the short list of dishes. "No, I'll need a minute."
"Suit yourself. If you're feeling down though, there's nothing like a milkshake the cheer you."
"I don't think a milkshake is what I need." More like a few stiff drinks. "You don't have alcohol here?"
Maria pursed her lips. "Hangover cure type?"
"The get-a-hangover type."
"Shot of whiskey and a pot of coffee, coming right up." Maria left with a wink.
Leaving Angelica, once again, to reply the argument in her mind. The shocking, crushing humiliation of hearing her name called in a crowded restaurant, of everything crashing down around her ears because of a careless mistake... because she was careless enough to want something she wasn't supposed to. Had anyone ever seen Alex and not wanted him? With those dark, expressive eyes and that wicked smile. He'd hooked her the moment they'd met.
She'd been at a club, with friends, giggling and spurring each other on until they'd gone drinking on the 'bad' part of town. She'd just broken up with Edward Livingston, much to the disappointment of her parents. And so, when the giggling girls had captured the attention of a few young men, she accepted Alex’s invitation to dance.
She never got tired of watching Alex dance. He may not have been particularly good - she has seen dancers, her sister was a dancer, she's sat through enough recitals to know what good dancing looks like - but God, had he moved with passion. Those hips should be a sin. And when he'd put his hands on her, to spin her into her arms, she'd gone warm all over.
What followed was a passionate night of sex, followed by... certain revelations about his career as a sex worker. No wonder he knew how to move his hips. And their arrangement had been born; a pseudo relationship, out of sight of anyone who might judge her for it.
"I recommend the blue cheese burger, if that's your sort of thing." Her waitress' voice breaks the reverie.
Angelica wrinkles her nose. "Blue cheese? On a burger?"
"A classic," Maria tells her solemnly. It draws a smile out of her. "There we go! You need classic but unusual food choices to make you smile."
"I'll have a regular burger and fries. And an extra plate of those onion rings." Her stomach is hollow enough that it feels like a drum.
"Sure thing." Maria's smile is friendly, and she gives Angelica a little nod as she rings the order in. The ringlet curls falling down her back swish as she walks into the kitchen.
Angelica's phone buzzes. The call display says Mr. John Church.
She ignores it.
She hasn't even thought about what she's going to say to John. Her boyfriend of a year has no idea she's spent most of their relationship seeing someone else. (In her defense: he's only dating her to show Kitty how completely over her he is. If the man she's dating is also in love with someone else, that's not so bad isn't it?)
By the time Maria arrives with her food, most of the few tables have finished and cleared out. Her half of the restaurant is empty, and Angelica is sorely considering hiding in her arms again. Only dignity stops her.
"Here you go!" Maria drops the plates in front of her with a smile. "Doesn't that look good?"
"Yes."
Maria frowns at her lackluster answer, clicks her tongue. "Are you going to tell me what's got you so upset?"
"No?" She didn't know Maria after all. She hasn’t even told her sisters why she’s upset.
"Waitresses are like hairdressers and whores, everyone treats us like free therapy. I had one gentleman today telling me his life's story. In exquisite detail." She drops into the seat across from Angelica, steals an onion ring. "But my sections' empty and I asked you. You're never going to come here again, I can tell. Why not?"
Why not indeed? "I broke up with- with someone I was sleeping with, really." As Alexander isn't her boyfriend, isn't her lover, isn't anything really. Just someone she was having sex with.
Maria give a rueful huff. "Yeah? How come?"
"I- I just realized we couldn't be together. It just wasn't possible."
"Long term relationships take work," Maria nods sagely.
"It's not like that at all!" God, she’s giving the wrong opinion entirely. "He was just someone I was with, it wasn't anything serious-" whatever she had wanted- "and he was completely unsuitable."
"Oh?" One perfectly manicured eyebrow rises. "How come? Was he a lot older?"
"Younger, I think," Angelica says distractedly, because she isn't really sure how old Alex is. She'd never thought to ask him. "But it wasn't that. He was kind of... not the boy you'd bring home to your parents for Sunday brunch."
"Ah, you fell for a bad boy." Maria's eyes sparkle. "Happens to us all. And he refused to change for you?"
"I- I guess I just realized that it wasn't long term." Yes, that’s a good way to reason it. "That it wasn't possible, the relationship I wanted would never materialize and I was just hurting my own reputation by sleeping with him."
"Why, what did he have you do?" Maria grins.
Angelica throws a fry at her, laughing despite herself. "Nothing!" Much, anyway. "But he was poor, he had no prospects, no connections- my mother would have fainted had I brought him home..." Her voice trails off. Suddenly she realizes Maria's stopped laughed, and her mouth is a thin line.
"I'm surprised you deigned to notice him in the first place," she says coolly.
Angelica flushes. "Not like that. There are just... expectations placed on me. And he knew that, you think my connections weren't a significant part of his interest? But even so..." A sigh. "I guess it's cliche to make Romeo and Juliet comparisons."
"Very cliche," Maria softened slightly. "But still, you're not a thirteen year old in medieval wherever. You could have done it anyways."
Angelica's already shaking her head. "No, I couldn't. I couldn't. It would mean giving up so much." Her reputation, her social life, her family. And her boyfriend, she couldn't forget about that one. All for a boy with soft eyes and a wicked tongue? She couldn't. "I would rather be alone at the top than at the bottom with someone else, I guess."
"Kinda lonely at the top." Maria steals another fry, then nudges the bowl towards Angelica. “You know
"What about you?" Angelica changes the subject before she can think about that one too hard. "You have someone?"
A soft smile, one that seems to light up her face. "James. My husband. We've been together since I was in high school. And it's tough, sometimes, but that's what life is, you know? I wouldn't trade him for the world."
"Ah," Angelica nods. "So there's never been anyone else?"
The smile grows. "I didn't say that. We've had breaks, you know, James and I. And sometimes needs must. He's never begrudged me, nor I him. I had a boyfriend for a while and he didn't care."
"That's very unusual.” And something that would have solved at least some of her problems. "Can I tell you something? I have a boyfriend too. He doesn't know a thing about the other man I've been seeing. He's very well connected, takes good care of me... but he's not a lot of fun, you know?"
"Girls have needs." Maria's hand came out just to brush a strand of hair off Angelica's shoulder. "This other man, he was your fun?"
Angelica closes her eyes. "So much fun. Beautiful and dashing and up for anything."
"That's how all the best ones are." She laughs. "James can be so dour as well. But I always have Alex to pull me out of things. We've known each other for years."
"And been together all that time?" Angelica is interested now, interested in this woman and her strange relationships.
Maria shrugs. "What counts as together? It doesn't really matter to us. Then he met a pretty girl who didn't want him sleeping with other pretty girls, and that was the end of that."
Angelica's mouth twists. "Doesn't seem fair."
"Doesn't matter, it's life. He's still a friend. And I still have James. He won't leave me," a brief flash of teeth, "I pay his rent."
Angelica had to laugh. "That's what I thought about mine, and yet..." she waves a hand. "Here I stand."
"More coffee?" Maria rises, glancing at the clock.
She probably has things to go, places to go. Home to her husband, who didn't seem to mind her having relationships with other people. Angelica shakes her head. "Just the check, I'll get out of your hair."
"Not too far out, I hope." Maria flashes her a smile, deftly piling the plates.
"I mean," Angelica says, "the point of this was that I wasn't coming back here, right?"
"Right." Maria nods, now holding the plates. "But still..."
"It's nice to talk to someone." Angelica agrees.
She's surprised though, when the check comes. Not at the total (though she hadn't even glanced at the prices on the menu) but at the phone number written in pen at the bottom.
Come over sometime, the little note read. No talking required.
She pays the bill, leaving a generous tip, and heads out into the night. Somehow, what had once looked dark and hopeless now seemed brighter.
She slips the number into her pocket.