Thought I Knew You(64)

“The pictures? They’re amazing. Of course I’m not mad! I don’t know why he would think I would be.”

“That’s what I told him. He is such a wonderful photographer.” She gazed fondly across the room and gave Drew a little wave.

He waved back, his expression unreadable. For lack of things to do, I downed my merlot.

The rest of the evening passed quickly. I drank about three more large glasses of wine. Olivia doted on me like a mother hen. Do you have enough to drink? Have you tried the appetizers? The canapés are amazing. After the last of the gallery patrons had left, all that remained were Drew, Olivia, me, and the owners, John and James, waiting to lock up for the night.



“Drinks?” Olivia suggested.

Drew looked to me for an answer. It was almost midnight. I really just wanted to sleep, but I gave a noncommittal shrug.

“Maybe one,” Drew acquiesced.

We walked about five blocks to a pub, which surprised me. I would have thought a martini bar or a trendy nightclub would be more their speed. The place was dimly lit, a jukebox in the back played loud Janis Joplin, and the bar spanned the entire right side. Booths and tables peppered the back, heavy oak, nicked with years of use and abuse.

We sat in a booth, Drew and Olivia on one side, me on the other. I felt out of place and awkward.

Olivia was bursting with excitement. She kissed Drew’s cheek, leaving a tiny remnant of sticky shine, like a small brand. “I’m so thrilled. That was incredible!” Her arm linked through his, and he looked equally excited.

“I know. I can’t believe all the comments I received.” He flushed with pride. “Thank you so much for everything you did.”

I almost replied, “You’re welcome,” but realized just in time that he hadn’t been talking to me. Of course not. What had I done? Nothing. I showed up.

He gazed at Olivia with an expression I had seen on his face a hundred times, a mixture of love, lust, and adoration.

I stood up unsteadily and excused myself to the bathroom. I stood in front of the cracked mirror, took deep breaths. Get a grip. Drew’s been watching me with Greg for years. How many times had I kissed Greg or told him I loved him in front of Drew? A million. I was instantly sorry. This is what Drew felt.

I returned to the table, smiling as brilliantly as I could muster. I would have to fake this. Somehow. Drew and Olivia were bent together, heads touching, talking softly. I sat down, cleared my throat, and looked away.



Olivia stood up, leaned over, and kissed my cheek. “Claire, it was so wonderful to finally meet you. Can we all do lunch tomorrow before you go?”

“Sure, but are you leaving? Why?”

“I think you two need to catch up, and besides, I’ve been up since seven helping plan the opening. I’m exhausted.”

“Well, it was nice to meet you. Great job on the reception, I think. I’ve never been to a gallery opening before.”

She gave a small wave and was gone, out the door and swallowed into the New York streets.

I turned to Drew. “Was it something I said?”

“No, not at all. I think she just knew we needed some time together. She’s… like that. She knows what you need without asking, it’s so weird…” He gazed toward the door.

“You love her.” I hadn’t intended on saying it or even talking about Olivia. The words just came out.

He nodded. “I think I do.” His eyes searched mine. “I was more sure before today.”

“Why today?” It was a question with a known answer, unfair really.

He raked a hand through his hair. “You. Always you, Claire. My whole life…” He twirled the half-empty mug of his beer around in his hands, not making eye contact. “And now, here you are. Somewhat available. For the first time in our lives. But somehow, I’m not…”

I realized I was holding my breath. “What do you want, Drew?” I asked finally, watching my oldest friend wrestle with his emotions. I knew every line of his face, the curve of his jaw, every smile. I realized how unfair life had been to him, at least when it came to love. How unfair I’d been to him.

His eyes met mine, and his smile was wry. “I have no idea. For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted only one thing. And now, I love two women. And even more unbelievably, two women seem to love me.” He gave me a look then: Am I reading this right?





I studied the marred table surface and then nodded slowly, meeting his eyes. My heart hammered. He shook his head once and smiled wryly. Figures.



We sat for a while, silent and consumed with our own thoughts, surely similar, but both of us unable or unwilling to vent them. Finally, he motioned for the waitress and paid the tab.