Twice in a Lifetime Read online

  Sally took the present and turned it over in her hands, glancing up at Harriet. “You didn’t have to get me a gift.”

  “I know, but I did,” Harriet said. “It’s to apologize for the suitcase mix-up. Plus, you haven’t opened it yet, you might hate it.”

  Sally sighed. “I remember your gifts, Harriet. I doubt that a lot.” She ripped open the tissue paper, to reveal a stone-colored journal, bound in soft leather with tan leather ties. Sally bit her lip as she looked up at her. “It’s just perfect,” she said. “I need a new one, too.” She turned the journal over in her hands, stroking the soft exterior with her elegant hands.

  Harriet had missed those hands.

  “I know — it was your journal that gave me your number, and I saw it was full.”

  Sally’s face clouded over when she heard that.

  Understanding, Harriet shook her head. “Don’t worry, I swear I didn’t read it. I was just looking to see if you’d written your number in it.” She reached over and touched Sally’s leg with her hand, and Sally’s warmth flowed up and into her, making her heart pump that little bit faster. Harriet steadied her breathing before continuing.

  “I wouldn’t read your journal — I learned my lesson a long time ago.” A stab of regret shot through her — it was still one of the worst mornings of her life, the one where she thought she’d lost Sally. But as it turned out, that had been a few months down the line.

  Sally’s cheeks flushed, and she gave her a faltering smile. “Glad to hear it,” she said, regaining her composure a little, putting the journal on the table. She gave Harriet a look she couldn’t quite decipher, before changing the subject. “How’s Daniel?”

  Harriet relaxed a little. “He’s great — Daniel doesn’t change. He’s still Mr Happy-Go-Lucky, which in this day and age you’ve got to admire. I just dropped him off before I came here.”

  “He lives here, too?”

  She nodded. “He does — you say that like we should have moved away.”

  Sally shook her head. “No, I guess I just thought you might, after going to Boston for college. You didn’t stay there?”

  “I dropped out,” Harriet replied. “Harvard wasn’t for me, which thrilled my parents, as you can imagine. But I made it work.”

  “You dropped out of Harvard? You rebel.”

  Harriet laughed. “That’s me,” she said. “All the Lockes are just where you left them: Mom and Dad still live in Winnetka in the same house, and Dan’s a gardener now, would you believe? He found his calling and now he sculpts gardens for Chicago’s great and good. And because he’s outdoors all the time, his skin’s so tanned it’s unreal.” She shrugged. “He’s happy, though — it’s a talent he was born with.”

  “Tell him I said hi,” Sally replied.

  “I will. He’d love to see you.”

  Sally raised one eyebrow. “Perhaps he would now, but I’m not sure he was all that thrilled about us hooking up all those years ago.”

  Harriet gave an uncertain smile. “Water under the bridge — we’ve all moved on since then, haven’t we?”

  But even as she said the words, she wondered how true they were. Harriet cast her mind back to that summer, to her and Sally, to the moonlight on Sally’s soft, pale skin. The actual details were fuzzy now, like so many things that happened in the past, her mind only recalling some details and forgetting others.

  But the feelings she’d had for Sally were still crystal-clear, and they were swamping her body now, pressing into every pore of her skin, every inch of her soul. She hadn’t put a name to them back then, because she hadn’t wanted to believe it. She’d never told Sally she loved her, that she would lay down her life for her, because she hadn’t realized it until it was too late.

  Until Sally was gone.

  But now, Sally McCall was sitting opposite her in a café, the same beautiful smile on her lips, the same eyes the color of the ocean.

  Sally McCall could never be water under the bridge for her. Sally McCall was part of her history.

  Scrap that, she was a part of her.

  She was the reason Harriet believed in love, as well as being the reason she’d given up on love, too.

  Harriet glanced down at her hands before looking back up at Sally, hoping her thoughts weren’t written all over her face.

  “Do you want to meet up again while you’re here? For a drink, or dinner?”

  Sally drained her coffee and eyed Harriet hesitantly. “I’d like that.”

  She didn’t sound convinced, but Harriet didn’t want Sally to run off again without knowing how she was, what she was up to.

  And perhaps knowing if she had a girlfriend or not.

  “I’m having dinner with my dad tonight, then lunch with my aunt tomorrow,” Sally said. “Are you free tomorrow night?”

  Harriet was nodding even before she scanned her diary in her head. It was only then she remembered she had plans already: work plans. She was due to meet some clients for dinner tomorrow night. Could she get out of it? She’d have to talk to Joanna.

  “I’m supposed to be working tomorrow night, but I’ll try to get out of it.”

  “You’re working?” Sally said. “It’s Friday night.”

  Harriet gave her a rueful smile. “And that’s the state of my life right now — I’ve got dinner with some clients, but I’d much rather spend it with you,” she said, holding Sally’s gaze, a long-lost memory of Sally deep inside her beginning to play in her head. Harriet let a slight shudder rattle through her, styling it out. “How long are you in town for?”

  “Till Sunday,” Sally replied, licking her lips. “I’ve got lunch with Mom, then I fly back Sunday night. But I kept Saturday free to do some shopping. If Friday doesn’t work, Saturday could, too.”

  Harriet winced: she really needed to sort out her work-life balance. “Leave it with me and I’ll let you know.” Harriet leaned forward. “But I’d love to have a longer chat,” she said, her heart racing as she stared into Sally’s oh-so-familiar eyes.

  Sally held her gaze before replying. “Me, too,” she said. “It’s been a very long time.”

  “It sure has,” Harriet replied.

  Chapter Eight

  Their office was the top floor of a converted house on a sleepy, leafy street in Logan Square, and it looked out over the 606, Chicago’s converted old train line that was now a recreational trail and running track. At 6pm, the amount of runners’ heads passing by their window was increasing, as the sun set and workers knocked off. Harriet’s desk had the large, picture window on her right, and she loved watching the 606 activity every day. Joanna said it distracted her, so she sat with her back to it.

  Harriet slid into her slate-gray Aeron office chair, giving Joanna a breezy smile. She cracked her knee on the filing cabinet under her desk as she had done every day since she moved it there three weeks ago, letting out a gasp of pain.

  “Goddammit!”

  Joanna simply rolled her eyes with a smirk, seeing as this was an occurrence she witnessed every day. “And what time do you call this?” she asked, running a hand over her perfectly shaved head.

  Joanna was one of those people who’d shaved her head a few years ago and immediately, everyone swooned and asked why she hadn’t done it years ago. She had a perfect scalp, enormous brown eyes to match her skin, and dark lashes that went on for days.

  They’d met at a networking event for professional women and hit it off right away, before eventually going into business together five years ago. Now, they ran Panache, a business that linked designers with top retailers and special clients, helping them get their products into the right hands and onto the right shelves around the world.

  “Bite me,” Harriet said, clutching her knee, staring at her computer like she’d never used one before. Her head was so scattered right now, it was all she could do to walk, talk and function like a human being.

  She’d just met Sally McCall for the first time in forever, and Sally had agreed to have dinner with
her tomorrow night. That thought sent a shockwave to her system once more, and she had to hold her breath to regain control of herself.

  Get a grip.

  Joanna raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “But you’re never late — I mean, never. I’ve always thought it was some weird setting in your DNA, because we’ve worked together for five years and I can count on my hands the times you’ve been late. I’m not complaining, it’s fine, but you said you’d be here by 4.30 and it’s now nearly six.”

  Harriet blew out a raspberry and shook her head. “Something came up, okay?” she said. “But I’m here now, so is there anything that needs my urgent attention, or do you have it all under control?”

  “Of course, so you can just get your coffee, say hello to Nathan and Kristy before they leave, then fill me in on your meeting. Because you seem a little weird today.” She paused, frowning at Harriet. “Everything go okay yesterday? Apart from the suitcase debacle?”

  “Everything went fine. The designers loved us, now it’s just a matter of ironing out some minor details. I’ll show you their stuff — did the suitcase arrive?”

  Joanna shook her head. “Not yet.”

  Harriet sighed. “It’s on its way — their stuff is absolutely gorgeous, I think our clients are going to love it.” She grinned. “Talking of wowing our clients,” she added. “You know I’ve got that dinner tomorrow with Bruce and Val from Macy’s?”

  Joanna nodded, picking up a pen and twisting in it her fingers.

  “Something’s come up and I was wondering — d’you think you’ll be able to step in and cover this one?” Harriet said it as nonchalantly as possible, as if switching a dinner engagement was something she did all the time. Instead of never once in their entire business relationship.

  “What’s come up? Is your dad okay?” Joanna sat up, looking concerned.

  “Yeah, he’s fine,” Harriet replied, blushing despite herself. “It’s just, I ran into an old friend today. She’s only in town for the weekend, and she wants to have dinner tomorrow night.”

  “Which old friend is this?”

  “Nobody you know,” Harriet said, spinning round in her chair, but not managing to escape Joanna’s curious stare. “Sally, a friend from high school, a long, long time ago.” She said it as off-handedly as she could manage, but when she looked at Joanna’s face, she knew she wasn’t fooling her.

  They’d been friends far too long for that.

  “Sally,” Joanna repeated. “And is Sally an old friend or an old flame? Because you’ve got a look on your face I haven’t seen much before.” She sat forward, staring at Harriet with a smile playing around her lips. “Is it bashful? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do bashful, but I think that’s what it is. Am I right?”

  Harriet rolled her neck from one side to the other, then folded her arms across her chest, clearing her throat as she sat up. “No, I’m not bashful. She’s just an old friend.” She paused. “And she might be an old flame, too.”

  “I knew it!” Joanna said, triumph in her voice. “So let me get this straight, you’re ducking out of a client meeting to meet up with an old girlfriend? And judging by your body language, someone you still have the hots for.”

  Harriet glanced down at her feet, then at her desk, her cheeks flaming anew.

  Damn Joanna and her detective work.

  “I do not have the hots for her,” she replied, putting the word “hots” in finger quotes. “I’m 35, for chrissake — I’m too old to have the hots for someone.”

  “Bullshit,” Joanna said, pointing a finger at Harriet. “You’ve got the hots for her, you’re blushing, and you’re avoiding my eyes. If this were a poker game, you’d be toast, my friend.” She let out another throaty laugh as Harriet squirmed. “Anyway, whatever, you’ve cheered me up no end. Harriet the ice queen has been melted, and then some.”

  Harriet gave her a look. “I’m hardly an ice queen.”

  “You’re hardly Mrs Hallmark either.”

  “Pot. Kettle.”

  Joanna’s face clouded over at that; her jaw twitched and she swiveled in her chair, turning her attention to the runners bouncing by their window. The sky outside was still clear blue, with not a cloud in sight.

  Harriet knew she’d hit a nerve. “Jo, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that how it came out. I wasn’t meaning it to apply to your current situation per se.”

  Joanna spun in her chair, her face now arranged in a way that told Harriet it didn’t matter, even though Harriet knew it did. She sighed and shook her head. “I know I can’t really be a relationship judge and jury right now, not with where my relationship is at the moment.”

  “Things still no better?”

  Joanna’s cheeks filled with air, before she expelled it. “Not really. We’ve lost our way somewhere along the line, and Viv’s got a whole new set of friends from the theater.” She shrugged. “It all starts out great, doesn’t it, and then it always seems to go downhill at some point.” She shrugged. “But I’m not talking about your old flame.”

  Now it was Harriet’s turn to shake her head. “It’s just dinner. She lives in New York, too, so it’s not like anything can happen.”

  “If Viv lived in New York, things would be so much easier,” Joanna said, almost to herself. When she realized she’d said it out loud, she winced. “Anyway, I can cover for you, no problem. We’re supposed to be going to Viv’s friend’s bachelorette party, but I’ve only met her once and I’m sure Viv will have a better time without me.”

  “Are you sure?” Harriet said. “I don’t want to cause more drama than you already have.”

  Joanna nodded. “I’m sure. I didn’t want to go anyway, and this gives me the perfect excuse.” Joanna sighed. “It’s not like our romance is setting the world alight right now.”

  Harriet gave her friend a sympathetic glance. “Maybe it’s just a phase you need to go through.”

  “Maybe,” Joanna said, not sounding convinced. “Anyway, back to you,” she said, getting up and walking over to Harriet’s desk. “Sally. I don’t think I’ve heard about Sally before, have I?”

  “She’s a girl from school, we had a thing when we were young, but then we went to college and it fizzled out.”

  Joanna frowned, staring at Harriet as if trying to locate the rest of the story. “How did you meet up again?”

  “Would you believe it was her case I took by mistake?”

  Joanna clasped both hands to her chest, leaning back on Harriet’s desk, eyes wide. “Oh my god, that’s so romantic! You didn’t tell me that part. All these years, and then an accidental meeting like that? This is something!”

  Harriet waved a hand, rolling her eyes at Joanna. “It’s a coincidence, that’s all. But it’ll be nice to meet up tomorrow — there’s a lot to catch up on.”

  Joanna narrowed her eyes. “Was she your first love?”

  Harriet glanced down at the carpet again. Had her cheeks turned even more crimson? It felt like they had.

  “Holy shit, you’re going to dinner with your first love!” Joanna said, poking Harriet in the shoulder. “And what did she look like? Is she still hot?”

  There was that word again. “What are we, 12?” Harriet said, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction.

  But Joanna was having none of it. “She was, wasn’t she? Was she hotter than she was before?”

  No matter how hard she tried, Harriet couldn’t stop the widescreen smile that crossed her face and stayed put in answer to that. She nodded her head ever so slightly, before shaking it at Joanna. “You’re terrible, you know that?”

  Joanna bumped her chair with her hip. “And you’re going on a date with your first love and she’s still a hottie!”

  “It is not a date,” Harriet replied. Even she wouldn’t hope that, not after what had gone before. Harriet had no idea how Sally’s life was going and what she thought of meeting her again. Sally might have gone home and stabbed pins into a Harriet voodoo doll for all she knew. But
despite that, Harriet couldn’t deny there was still a tiny bit of her that longed for tomorrow to be a date.

  Because deep down, despite the fact she fucked it up, she’d always wanted another date with Sally.

  “It so is!” Joanna said. “And I think it’s amazing. One of us should have some romance in her life, and that person is you!”

  “It’s not a date, Joanna.”

  Joanna grabbed both the arms of Harriet’s office chair and swung it around, leaning down so their faces were now only inches from each other. “Sure, it’s not a date,” she said. “You keep telling yourself that. But my spidey senses are tingling and they tell me date.” She paused. “Have you even thought about what you’re going to wear yet?”

  Shit, she hadn’t at all. Mainly because it wasn’t a date, right?

  Seeing her body tense, Joanna laughed and stood up, running a hand over her head again, as was her habit. “I’m going to leave you to ponder that and go get us both a coffee, okay?” she said, walking out of the door.

  Harriet watched her go, her heart racing, her mind blank.

  It wasn’t a date; she was just having dinner with an old friend.

  Harriet got out her phone and started to text Sally to let her know she could do dinner.

  She tried to ignore the fact her hand was shaking.

  Chapter Nine

  Sally arrived at the hotel’s restaurant at 1pm as instructed, its slanted glass roof meaning sunshine flooded the space, the scent of garlic and herbs filling her nostrils. The modern white upholstered chairs and minimalist naked wooden tables told Sally this was a hip space, and the mustachioed bartender shaking a Manhattan behind the glinting art deco bar only confirmed it.

  Her dad had shown her a recent photo of his sister when Sally had met him for dinner the night before, but she wasn’t difficult to pick out. Her aunt’s rash of copper hair announced itself in a room way before she did, and the fact she already had a martini in front of her when it was only one in the afternoon told Sally certain things about her long-lost relative: she was either an eccentric or a drunk. Or perhaps an eccentric drunk.