She brushed a tear that had found its way down her cheek and sighed. It wasn’t just the loneliness that was bothering hertoday. It was the question that wouldn’t leave her alone. Whatdidn’tBillie see in her?
Debra had spent her whole married life being told she was too much or not enough. Too opinionated for her ex-husband, but too quiet for his friends. Too polished, too proper, too predictable. And then Billie had looked at her, touched her, and spoken to her like she was none of those things.
And then she’d pulled away.
Debra had tried to remind herself that it didn’t matter, that Billie probably did that with everyone, but she couldn’t shake the feeling it had left her with. Like she’d been opened up, then discarded…half-finished.
She sniffled and wiped at her cheek again, forcing out a breath that should have calmed her but didn’t. She didn’t even know why she was sitting here today. The view and the rush of London life around her did nothing to help with the way she was feeling.
“Debra.”
The voice came from behind her, unmistakable in its tone, and as she turned…Debra’s breath caught.
Billie stood there, her hands in the pockets of an expensive overcoat, that dark hair styled in an effortless way that Debra had come to think about far too often. God, she was the most handsome woman Debra had ever laid eyes on. “Billie,” Debra said, clearing her throat. “H-hi.”
“I was taking a walk. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“It’s one of my spots.” Debra regarded her with a faint smile. “It helps me think.”
Billie nodded towards the empty half of the bench. “Mind if I sit?”
“No, of course not.”
The space between them was small but significant. Billie sat, her posture immaculate even in rest. The wind caught the edge of her coat and tugged it slightly, revealing a dark suit beneath.
Debra chose not to fill the silence with pointless conversation, she knew where she stood with Billie now, but as she watched the water against the stone wall, she wished her pulse would slow down.
“You look different outside of the shop.” Debra kept her focus ahead of her, not trusting herself to meet Billie’s eyes. She was already struggling to get them out of her head whenever she slid into bed at night. “A little less terrifying, anyway.”
“That’s progress, depending on who sees it.”
Debra did glance at Billie this time. “Are you always like that? Controlled, I mean.”
Billie’s jaw tensed before she answered. “Mostly. Control keeps things manageable.”
“Manageable?”
Billie’s gaze drifted to the water. “Life doesn’t always give you choices. So when you find something you can control, you hold onto it.”
The words were matter of fact, but they hit Debra with force. She wanted to ask more, but the set of Billie’s mouth told her that door would only open so far. Still, she tried. “Must be a lonely way to live.”
Billie lifted a shoulder. “Sometimes, but it’s something you learn to accept.”
It was the first hint of real honesty Debra had heard from Billie that wasn’t wrapped up in something resembling a neat bow. It softened the atmosphere between them. “Do you ever think about letting go?”
“Letting go of what?”
Debra turned on the bench a little. “The need to manage and control everything.”
“That’s a dangerous game to play when you don’t know what the outcome will be.”
“You know…” Debra sighed as she propped her head in her hand. “Idosee hints of the real you behind the mask when you think you’re holding yourself together. Last week in the fitting room, for example. Whatever happened in that room, you wanted it just as much as I did.”
Billie turned her head and met Debra’s eyes. “You noticed that.”
“I notice everything about you, Billie,” Debra said, a faint edge of mischief cutting through her softness. She couldn’t help but flirt with Billie Brown, even if she knew it was a waste of time. “It’s becoming a bit of a problem for me.”
A flash of heat flickered behind Billie’s expression, but she quickly buried it. “You make me sound like a temptation.”
