Title: Flashbacks and Echoes
Summary: Since leaving Runway, Andy has been haunted by the woman she loves. Memories of her ex silver-haired boss creep in anytime she tries to date or is reminded of her. Years later, Andy finds herself frozen in time as she relives the moment she regrets most.
The coffee shop was warm and inviting, a stark difference from the rainy weather outside, as I sat by the window waiting for my date. The aroma of coffee and pastries enveloped me while people of all ages conversed, enjoying their own drinks and food. Rubbing my hands against my jeans, I tried centering myself. It’s just a coffee/museum date. We’re not going home together. I can do this.
The entry bell chimed and a sultry voice said, “I still can’t believe the goddess that is Andy Sachs took time out of her busy schedule to go on a coffee date with little old me,” Carrie, a jewelry designer from New York, slid into the seat across from me.
“I’m not a goddess,” I laughed.
“I mean…” the raven-haired woman grinned, glancing over me. “I disagree.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls,” I shot back.
“Just the super sexy ones,” she joked. “In all seriousness, I’m glad you agreed. I wanted to ask you out the day you came in looking at the rings. I was just too chicken shit.”
“What made you finally ask?”
“When I realized you were chill. Little did I know how panicky you get around a deadline,” Carrie teased. “You were right though, friends first was the way to go. It makes this easier.”
“Making me work for that sexy Sachs ass.”
“That,” I pointed. “That you say to every woman,” I grinned.
“I’m an ass girl, sue me.” Getting to her feet, Carrie asked, “Your normal?”
“Yeah.” With each step Carrie took, the pearl necklace I wore felt heavier. No. I’m going to enjoy this. I’m a 28 year old woman who’s not had a girlfriend in-how long has it been? Pushing the thought aside, I scrolled through emails as I waited.
“One strawberry danish and one flat white,” Carrie said, placing the items on the table.
“Thanks,” I smiled, sliding my phone into my coat pocket.
“How is work going?” she asked, taking a sip of her tea.
“Great, so far. The story-,”
“No-foam, extra-hot, extra-shot Caffè Latte with nonfat milk,” a barista called.
Heels approached as I spread the stack of magazines. Looking up, I saw the older woman pause while on the phone. “Your Starbucks,” I whispered.
“Yes, have it ready by 2pm. I’ll send Andrea.” Closing her phone, hazel eyes took me in. “You put that together?”
“Yes,” I smiled, proud of myself.
“You’re learning,” Miranda said with a nod. “Good.”
“I can’t do this,” I deflated. “I’m sorry.”
Sympathetic eyes studied me. “She messed you up pretty bad, didn’t she?” Carrie asked. “I know that look,” she paused. “You don’t talk about her much. How long has it been?”
I cannot explain this to her. She thinks the woman is an ex not my old boss. “Six years,” I answered, swirling my coffee.
“Damn. I’m sorry, Andy. I know we’re new friends, but I know this: it’s her loss,” she paused. “You wanna talk about it?”
I’m the one who left. “No. Thank you though.”
“Understandable,” Carrie said. “Still want to go to the museum? As friends.”
After a wonderful time exploring a few different museums and local attractions, I did my night routine and fell into bed. Staring at the ceiling of my sublet flat, I sighed. Damn it, Miranda. I can’t even go on a coffee date without thinking about you. How am I supposed to move on from you and Runway if I can’t sleep with a woman, let alone date, without you creeping in?
Rolling to my side, I closed my eyes remembering the guilt I felt three years ago. Thankfully I didn't say Miranda’s name aloud that night. That would have been terrible for both me and Jane. Flipping to my back, I sighed. Hopefully I won’t dream about Miranda. It never fails to happen when she creeps in like this. Granted, dreams and flashbacks are the only way I get to see her now. A hot tear ran across my temple and into my ear. Goodnight, Miranda. I hope, whatever you’re up to, that you’re happy. You and the girls.
