Marcus kept his hand on Eliza’s thigh. She was not crying or emotional, but he caressed it nonetheless.”I thought Rafe told you, I thought they would decide to tell us at the same time.”
Eliza shook her head. Rafe had not told her anything, not yet at least. She concentrated on Marcus’s hand on her thigh because she did not want to think, she did not want her thoughts to wander because they would only venture into pain.
“I think the part that bothers me the most,” Marcus said as he squeezed her thigh. “Is that when I had the chance to do the same thing to Sandrine, I chose not to do it.”
Eliza nodded, and sipped her drink.
“When I was just starting out, I was insanely attracted to one of my co-stars. I’d never been attracted to a man like that before. He was incredibly good-looking, and got my attention that way. I was open to it you know? But when I started noticing the signals…it is not different between the sexes I find. If you like someone it is always obvious, and it was obvious he liked me and I realized I liked him because he liked me…We were at a bar, and it was intense because I was in a play with him and that is a different experience than being in a filmed production…He was sitting next to me, and he had his hand on my thigh.”
He squeezed her thigh with emphasis at that moment, and Eliza felt herself grow soft between her legs.
“Like your hand is on my thigh?”
Marcus grinned, and looked at her.
“Higher.” He squeezed her thigh more, and continued. “I held his hand in mine, and told him I was seeing someone. That it was open, but I needed to tell her if I wanted anything to start with him. He respected that. Oddly enough it was the three of us at the wrap party, when the play finished its run. Sandrine came with me, I figured it would be okay if she saw us together. So it was the three of us at a table, and she actually put her hand on my thigh and asked me if I liked him. She could tell, because I had been talking about him at home and simply because she was not stupid.”
Eliza saw their reflection in the mirror over the bar, and she knew that anyone seeing them would think that she was having an affair with him. Or that something steamy was going on, as opposed to him talking about his now wife and a former lover.
“So did you get together then?” she questioned him.
Marcus squeezed her knee again.
“Yes, we got together several times after that, and he is still a friend. He is a producer on the show actually.”
“He saw me chasing you, and told me the last time that he saw that expression on my face was when I was just starting to see Sandrine. I thought that you just wanted to be with me because you were mad about Sandrine and Rafe…but…”
The names Sandrine and Rafe made Eliza wince, but then she was still.
Marcus’ hand slid up her leg, and it felt like fire. Eliza leaned into him, her hair came undone and she did not bother to fix it. The round mound of his palm was on her hip, and his fingers trailed along her backside.
“I don’t want to be with you Eliza, to drown your pain.”
His hand slipped down her thigh, to rest on her knee.
“It would not have been like that, I would not fuck you to forget…”
She looked away from him, and she saw Oscar. He and Polly were walking into the bar, and Eliza laughed. The irony that the three of them would be in the bar at the same time. Splashing liquor on herself as she attempted to have a sip of her drink, Eliza was pensive as the alcohol trailed down her leg. Marcus no longer touched her, his hand floated off of her knee. Her eyes floated to the picture over the bar of a woman looking out of a window, and she wished she could crawl out of one.
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photo of a grete stern dream photo by f dot leonora