Crossing Paths

She was the center of attention, as usual. Standing at the back of the candlelit room, she looked spectacular. Black dress and diamond necklace. Her wavy blonde hair was caressing her shoulders.

I looked across the dining room where about 75 tables were set up for the event. Groaning under my breath, I glanced at the group sitting at the table with me. Did any of them notice her yet?

Belle warned me months ago that if I ever showed up at an event she was at, she’d embarrass me. I shifted in my chair to turn my face away from her line of vision.

For Christ’s sake, how was I to know that she’d be at the damned celebrity charity? I recalled her anger and words with gut-wrenching clarity.

“If you ever cross my path again, Robert, you will regret it.”

Her Rottweiler, Hummer, stared at me from the passenger seat of the blue convertible. His tongue hung out as he panted, his soulful eyes asking me why I wasn’t joining them.

“Belle, honey, you know how those gossip magazines are. I didn’t do anything. You have to believe me.”

She revved the engine of her BMW and looked up at me. “I don’t have to believe anything!” She threw the car into drive. “I’m telling you, if I ever see your cheating face anywhere, it won’t be entertaining. Not for you, anyway.” With that, she sped away. Her hair and Hummer’s ears blowing in the breeze.

Belle was partially right not to believe me because the photograph didn’t lie. My lips had been pressed to her friend’s. But it didn’t quite happen in the way it appeared.

“Her friend was drunk as hell,” I told my agent, Trev. “She kissed me, and I didn’t have time to react.”

“Man, I hear ya,” Trev sympathized. “I hope it won’t hurt ticket sales.”

“Always looking out for me, aren’t you, my friend?”

“I’m here for you.” He leaned back and grinned. “I’m just messin’ with you. You know that, right? I’m really sorry about you and Belle.”

“Yeah? Why is that, exactly? Because you feel bad for me or because we were such a great marketing tool?”

Trevor shrugged. “Well, I’d be lying if I didn’t say a little of both.”

The night of the charity dinner, I was the guest speaker. So, there was zero chance of me wriggling out of the event.

“Hey, Robert,” Trev whispered, leaning across the table. “Is that who I think it is?” He motioned his head toward the back of the room.

I rubbed my face and nodded. “Uh-huh.

A waiter replaced my wineglass with a full one. Its contents disappeared in short order. I resigned myself to getting the whole thing over with. Standing, I began making my way toward the back of the room. Maybe the crowd around Belle would dissipate. Maybe time has cooled her off. Maybe there’s gold in my sock.

“Robert!” a man exclaimed, shaking my hand. “Loved your performance in your recent movie! It was effervescent. Great job, buddy.”

I smiled and nodded out of habit, misery overwhelming me. At some point along my journey through the crowd, my hand was introduced to a fresh glass of wine.

I missed Belle. I didn’t know how to get over her.

A couple who lived on my street stopped me and I was glad to kill some time with them. By then, I had nearly reached Belle. Would she really make a scene? I kept glancing over at her as she calmly listened to whoever was occupying her time.

“We’re getting a new fence and gate put up,” my neighbor, Finn, said. “You know, our dog got out a while back.”

“I heard about that. You found Butterbean, right?”

They had indeed. “He sure misses his play dates with Hummer.”

My smile diminished somewhat. I missed Hummer, too. I missed a lot of things. I contemplated pilfering one of the bouquets of flowers on a nearby table to impress Belle with. Wouldn’t that be something?

I told myself to just get this damned scene over with and stop nagging my brain with ridiculous notions of knocking Belle off her feet. She was done with me, wasn’t she? Her and her sports car and big dog. I was supposed to be done with her, too. I decided I should be thinking more along the lines of showing her how much I don’t care. How much her leaving has had no effect on me whatsoever. I figured she might even buy it.

As I got within feet of her, I’m certain my jaw disengaged. Several others were staring in my direction.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” a woman said.

Reality began to dawn on me. What I had been so fixated on was one of those life-size poster cut-outs of Belle. With the adrenaline still racing through my system, I coughed out a laugh.

“Yeah,” I said. “It almost looks real, doesn’t it?” A waiter took my empty glass, and I nodded thanks at him.

Strangely disappointed, I stared at the floor. Turning, I started heading back to my table. It occurred to me how much I wanted to see Belle, despite the possibility of a scene. I thought about sending flowers again. Perhaps if I sent enough of them, I’d finally—

I stopped. Directly in front of me was Belle - the real Belle.

“Baby!” I exclaimed.

Before I could utter another syllable, she drenched my shirt with champagne. “I warned you, didn’t I?” Her tone had all the gentleness of a stone.

I remained still as our eyes locked onto one another.

Glancing down at my shirt, I replied, “Thanks for that.”

Around us, cameras were flashing. I grabbed Belle’s hand and pulled her into me. Surprise flickered across her face.

I grinned. “So, how’s Hummer?”

Before she could answer, I kissed her hard on the mouth. As I began walking away, I could feel the hushed crowd staring. But it was Belle’s words that stopped me in my tracks.

“He misses you,” she whispered.