Dreams in Moonlight

Part 8

"Here you are." Amanda came back into the room, holding aloft a weighty tome, "Looks very edifying!" She teased lightly as she put the book on the history of dance on the counter. With a teasing smile, she asked, "Know anything about the history of dance Greg?" She pointed to the book and then held up the book so that he could read the cover.

"Nope. Just your average labourer here!" He told Amanda and despite his earlier intention to stay calm added, "Out of my league." He glanced at Mallory, and shrugged when he continued, "I'd need a translator to explain all this high brow culture to me."

"Me too." Amanda grinned in camaraderie.

"That's why we get on." He told Amanda, while looking pointedly at Mallory, who was studiously avoiding making eye contact and pretending to study the back cover of the coffee table book. "We're on the same wave length." Greg stated uncompromisingly. "This," he gestured at the book, "doesn't interest a labourer, like me."

"A labourer?" Amanda chuckled. 

At that Mallory made a big show of delving into her bag, as the dart landed and her heart once more took a hit. She rummaged for effect, finding her purse and then slowly retrieving it. "It's sixty five, isn't it?" Mallory asked quietly and then handed over her debit card before Amanda could confirm the amount.

"Yes." Amanda put the book into a paper store bag before she took Mallory's debit card. They all stood in silence while the machine processed the payment. Mallory and Greg avoided looking at each other, while Amanda concentrated on getting the receipt sorted out.

"Here you go!" Amanda handed Mallory the bag and smiled, "Enjoy!"

"Thank you. I will."

With the transaction complete, Mallory wished both Amanda and Greg. She tucked the book in her tote bag and reached for her walking stick. Mallory did her best to minimize her limp, though she knew that she probably looked uncoordinated as she made for the door. It hadn't bothered her for years, and yet, today, now, as she walked away she wished she could still glide.

Greg watched her leave. She did not float as she walked. She had a limp. He scowled as he watched her, a definite limp. He'd read about her injury and the end of her career but he'd assumed that once she'd recovered she was fully mobile. Perhaps not mobile enough to dance, as he had not seen her dance a few nights back, but this was simple walking. He watched her and realized that she didn't have that air of lightness that he'd associated with her for as long as he could remember. When they had known each other before, she used to float rather than walk. He used to love watching her move, it seemed so effortless and so weightless. Not for the first time he wondered about what might have been. They spent years dating. Going from that first hand-held stroll to that last loving encounter the day he had proposed. He'd been so sure that she loved him, that proposing seemed the logical step. For the briefest of time, it was the logical step.

Until she had written to tell him it was a mistake. They were a mistake. Not compatible. Not long term.

The door shut, and it was only then that Greg realized that his shoulders were tense. He rolled his shoulders, trying to ease out the knot that now lodged at the back of his neck. His heart stopped thundering. He licked dry lips and slowly turned back to face Amanda.

"You ok?" Asked Amanda, seeing him rotate his shoulders and the sudden pensive look in his eyes.

Greg nodded and smiled, "Just easing out a few kinks."

"I could help with that." Amanda flirted easily and she reached for her hand bag. She knew this fledgling relationship was the talk of the town. Given he was one of the richest men around, and also one of the most handsome, it was hardly surprising that he was also the talk of the town. The fact he was dating her, was rapidly making the rounds.

Greg's grin widened, as he made a conscious effort to move his thoughts away from Mallory. "Good to know."

By that stage Amanda was round the counter, "Lunch first." She winked at Greg, "But if you play your cards right, I may just help you ease out those kinks." With a suggestive smile she headed for the door and Greg followed her with an answering smile on his lips. She turned the sign to read 'closed'.

"Promises, promises." He held the door open allowing Amanda to step out, then he waited for her to lock up the shop. Together they braced for the gale and headed the few doors down to the nearest café.

He didn't mean to, but his eyes scanned the path ahead for Mallory. She was climbing into her car. He exhaled slowly. This had to stop. His heart should not be racing just looking at her. And he cannot keep taking pot shots at her, just because his heart was challenging his logical brain.

One month later, at a party, Harriet walked into the kitchen and spotted Greg. "Well you two seem to be getting on well." Harriet teased Greg as she lounged against the kitchen counter. Harriet was more than pleased to see Greg and Mallory talking. Chatting like long lost friends. It was unexpected and gratifying. She hoped it would have the romantic ending she wanted.

"Harriet?" Greg prompted, his eyes smiling at her, but conveying his confusion. He put his glass down on the counter and focused on the young woman in front of him. He knew she was Mallory's friend.

"You and Mallory." Harriet smiled and then added with deliberate cheekiness, "You were chatting for ten minutes! Just the two of you!"

"Don't read anything into it." He advised, and the smile all but disappeared. Yes, he had spoken to Mallory, on her own, for a while. But that was part of his strategy to make sure he got over her. He wanted to be able to treat her like every other person. Nothing special. Which meant neither excluding her nor including her. No special treatment. She would just become part of the furniture. He'd be aware of her presence, but it would be nothing more than practical association. He was fairly confident his strategy was paying off. He and Mallory had spoken this evening as if there was no history between them. They were just chatting. Nothing of consequence. Just chatting. Veiled emotion shading their chat. Turns out, any insipid topics are not bland. Sparks of excitement, made their chat electrified while their hearts fanned the sparks while their brains attempted to douse the flames.

"Oh? Why not?"