No Wrong Way to Do Me Right

"I appreciate that. Now can I interest you in lunch or dinner Saturday?"

"I insist on it, Tom. God, I'm so glad you called!"

"Me too. I..." The big three words hung in the air, and Alexandra could just envision him trying to say them. But he didn't. "I'll call you Friday night to make arrangements, how's that?"

"Perfect. See you then!"

As she set her phone down, Alexandra heaved a deep sigh that was equal parts relief and anticipation. Where should they go to dinner on Saturday? What should she wear for the occasion? Had he ever even seen her in a dress? She didn't think so.

He most likely had seen Sandy in a dress before, and would have again had he made it to the klatch that night. Sandy didn't much like the black and white patterned number she chose, but she'd been told she looked hot in it, maybe even once by Rajesh. And, now knowing Tom wouldn't be there, she wanted him to eat his heart out tonight. On the way to the pub, she passed a flower shop. No one would need to know she'd bought the dozen roses herself. They weren't cheap, but she was out to prove to Tom that she wasn't either.

"Sandy!" Jane exclaimed when she stepped into the warm glow of the pub. "You're looking smart!"

"You do remember the party isn't until next week?" Eric quipped. "And it's red for Valentine's Day?"

"These are red, aren't they?" Sandy asked, setting the bouquet down carefully on the table.

"Rajesh finally came through, did he?" asked Alexandra.

Sandy had been told many times she was a bad liar. She responded only with a nod and a self-satisfied smirk.

"Great, then you've got a date for the party," Eric said.

"Have you completed your mission?" Jane asked.

"What, luring Marie and Pete to the club?" Sandy asked. "Yeah, of course. They think they're coming to join my aunt and me for dinner. And I don't know if Rajesh can come. He said he might anyway."

"Glad to hear you're making some progress there, Sandy," said Alexandra.

Sure you are, you bitch, Sandy thought. Only then did she realize Tom was absent, as were Marie and Pete. "Where is the lucky couple anyway?" she asked. "And Tom?"

"Marie had to work late, and I guess Pete didn't want to leave her alone with her work," Jane said. "And I don't know about Tom."

"I do," Alexandra piped up. "He's got a group project due Friday and no time to come out."

Sandy saw her opportunity. "Yeah, right," she said.

"What do you mean?" Eric asked. "Didn't you ever have a busy week at uni?"

"Not so busy I wouldn't have time for my best friends," Sandy said. "When you want to do something, you make time."

"That's not always possible," Jane said. "Sometimes something has to give."

"No, I know men, and American men especially," Sandy chirped. "He's got somewhere else to be tonight, count on it. And Alex, he just didn't want you to know where he really was."

"You have no reason to believe that!" But Alexandra was spooked, and visions of her detested two-timing ex, Marlene, flashed through her memory.

"Sure I do," Sandy said. "He told me."

"Told you what?" Alexandra hated letting Sandy know she'd gotten the better of her, but now she was too panicked to care.

"That he's found someone, that's what." Sandy paused for a long sip of wine, satisfied that she had Alexandra right where she wanted her.

"When?" Alexandra asked.

"None of your business. Look, everyone, Tom's our friend and I think we should be happy for him. I mean, everybody knows he had a crush on me, don't we?"

There was reluctant agreement all around, except from Alexandra, who was giving her a stony glare.

"Yeah, well, that was never going to happen, was it? I mean, look at me and look at him, is he in my league? Fuck, no! I don't know why he's keeping this new girl under wraps - or maybe it's not a girl? I mean, he always did make my gaydar go wang wang a little bit, and Jane, we know what you think about that. Anyway, I think it's great that he came to his senses about me. Let's support him, huh?"

Alexandra swallowed hard, and resolved to finish her beer. As the conversation picked up around her and she was vaguely aware of Eric and Jane pumping Sandy for details, she told herself Sandy was full of it and had no way of knowing anything about Tom. She told herself that again and again, but the story just fit too well with the touch of doubt she'd had ever since Tom's call that afternoon.

Too much homework.

That was exactly what Marlene had claimed, the last time she'd canceled plans with Alexandra. Not just the last time, of course - it had been her stock excuse for all of the many times in those last couple of months of their relationship when she'd had to ditch their plans. But it was the last time that was seared in Alexandra's memory, of course.

She had never once questioned Marlene's schedule. Full time work and a cert IV in computer networking was a lot to juggle, after all. So she'd gotten quite used to accepting when there just wasn't time to do everything and she'd had to settle for bringing a random friend along to dinner, or even going alone.

The last time it happened had been no different. As Alexandra had hung up the phone and started brainstorming for other friends she could invite along to the movies that night in Marlene's place, she had harbored no suspicion at all. But she had noticed, after rifling through her purse for them, that she had forgotten the tickets at home. Or was it Marlene who'd been intended to bring them to the theatre? Alexandra didn't remember which it was, and she didn't care.

What she did care about was what had greeted her when she'd gone home to collect the tickets: Marlene and her "friend" from school, Ruth. They were not doing homework. At least not unless there was some sort of computer networking you could only do while naked together in bed.

It was all a nasty coincidence, she told herself now. But she couldn't convince herself - she just couldn't.

She only just managed to hold herself together until Sandy finished off her wine and stood up. "Well, guys, I'm off," Sandy said. "Let me know if you need any more help with the party."

"Yes, of course," Jane said.

"Night, Sandy," Eric said.

Alexandra said nothing.

Sandy, confident that her mission was accomplished, picked up her roses and strode confidently out into the night. On the next corner, she tossed the roses in a trash can. Fifty-seven euros down the drain, but it was worth every last one of them.

Jane didn't need to ask why Alexandra had grown so quiet. "Alexandra, look, Sandy's probably full of it," she said.

"Is she, though?" Alexandra seriously considered launching into her own history, but decided against it. No one here knew just why she'd moved overseas, and she'd always liked letting it remain a mystery.

"I'll tell you what," Jane said. "I need to call Marie anyway and confirm that Sandy really did invite her to the club - I don't trust Sandy any farther than I can throw her - and I'll see what she knows about this."

"How would Marie know anything?"

"Last time I talked to her, she said something about having someone in mind for Tom," Jane said. "I assumed it was you. I'll see if I can get her to confirm that. If not, then, at least you'll know, right?"

"Thank you, Jane." Alexandra chanced a hug with her stoic English friend, and was surprised to find she welcomed it.

Eric stood up and hugged her as well. "Love stinks, but I don't trust Sandy either," he said.

"Thanks, guys. Good night." Alexandra downed the last swallow of her beer, and was off.

She fully expected to burst into tears as soon as she was out on the anonymity of the street. But she managed to keep them at bay. She even laughed a bit as an idea came into her head: what if Marie and Pete were also lying about their absence? Could Tom be up to the same thing tonight that she had done the other night?

Probably not. But Alexandra could never hope to forget what had happened the last time she'd told herself 'probably not'.

The next day was chilly but clear, and Marie took advantage of the mild weather to walk between her appointments rather than take the Metro. Having really been up to her eyeballs in work the night before, she was blissfully unaware of what had transpired at the pub when her phone rang.

Initially concerned that it was yet another panicked client with an urgent project, she was relieved to see it was only Jane. "Hi, Jane," she said.

"Marie, hello! Have you got a moment to talk?"

"I've got plenty of time. What's up?"

"Well, I've been thinking, about your plans for the anti-Valentine's Day party. I've had a change of plans and it looks like now I will be available that evening."

"Oh, Jane, it's sweet of you to think of that, but I'm afraid we've decided not to have the party after all," Marie said.

"Oh, well, that's good, honestly, Marie. I've always wished you and Pete could leave that whole awful incident behind. I feel like I ought to apologize again, even..."

"No, Jane, no need, and you're right," Marie said. "But actually, the reason why we decided not to have the party - well, for one reason, you're still the only person who was even free that night, but besides that, we got another offer. From Sandy of all people."

"Sandy?"

"Sandy! Yes, I guess her aunt will be in town that night, and she's invited us to join her for dinner. At the Hôtel Porte de la Ville! Have you ever been in there before?"

"No," Jane lied. "I hear it's beautiful, though. I'd put up with Sandy for that, even."

Marie laughed. "Well said, my friend. Listen, I'm sorry I couldn't make it last night. Believe me, I'd rather have been at the pub than wrestling with Excel sheets! Pete was a godsend, too, helping me keep stuff organized, making dinner, which I had to work right through. But we both would've rather been with you!"

"I get it," Jane said. "Oh, one more little thing. Call me Miss Matchmaker if you want, but I remember you mentioning last time you had someone special in mind for Tom. A little bird told me he has found someone. Was that your doing?"

Marie stopped in her tracks, and had to look over her shoulder in case she was in anyone's way. She stepped under an awning and took a moment to try to remember if Alexandra had said anything about making progress with Tom. She couldn't remember even a word about that. "Oh, Jane, I don't feel I should tell you about that. Or anyone, really. It's Tom's business, after all."

"Fair enough, you're right," Jane said. "I just wanted to congratulate you if you were responsible, that is all."

"I appreciate that," Marie said. "But...yeah, mum's the word."

"Understood. See you next week at the pub?"

"Work permitting, yes! Bye, Jane."

"Bye."

Marie clutched her phone, unsure if she was angry or frustrated, and reminded herself it really wasn't any of her business. Her heart ached for Alexandra, but what could she do?

Jane, in her office, leaned back in her desk chair and wondered if she ought to tell Alexandra anything. After all, she still didn't really know anything for sure. But it certainly sounded like Tom did in fact have someone else. On the other hand, hadn't she had a hand in nearly destroying Marie and Pete's love over a lie about just the same thing?

Lightning didn't strike twice, she decided, and she did now know Sandy was telling the truth about inviting Marie and Pete to the club. Besides, if she were Alexandra, she would want to know. The sooner Alexandra's heart was broken, the sooner it would heal, after all. Musing that maybe their whole gang should have followed Marie and Pete's lead and hated Valentine's Day, she texted Alexandra.

Asked Marie for details, she wouldn't talk. My guess now is Tom probably is seeing someone else. Sorry, Alexandra.

Jane pressed "send" and then buried the phone as deeply in her purse as she could. She was suddenly in no mood at all to talk to any of her friends.

Two of Tom's partners on the group project were French, and the third was Korean and spoke better English than French. They had the option of presenting in English, but Tom had a clever idea. "What do you say, Mattieu and Jacques, you guys present in English, and Paul and I do French?"

Paul laughed. "I'll do it if you can, Tom."

"And we confuse everyone?" Mattieu asked. "Sure, I will do it."

"Make it...comment dit-on...oh, unanimous?" Jacques said.

Tom nodded, and it was settled. It would require a lot more prepping on his part, but he hadn't come to Paris to depend on other people's ability to speak his language.

Thursday night, he was up until well past two o'clock drafting his presentation in French and practicing the delivery. But imagining Alexandra would be in his arms come Saturday was all the motivation he needed. That embrace last weekend had been unexpected but delightful, and in the few days since then he'd come to realize he'd been thinking a lot of her lately. How could he have missed what was brewing? But that didn't matter now. When at last he was finished practicing, he had no trouble drifting off to sleep with visions of happiness just around the corner.

The presentation came and went in a blur, though he would remember several of his French classmates smiling at him. Not laughing as he'd feared some might, just smiling - he chose to interpret it as a sign they were impressed with him.

He was right. Although the professor had some questions that suggested he was less than impressed, more than one of his colleagues congratulated him and Paul after class. "You did it!" said Anne from Marseilles. "More than I could do in English!"

"Well, I don't know about that," said Tom, who'd seen Anne's presentations before. "But thanks. I did have my doubts."

"You made it through," said Yves, who rarely had anything positive to say about anyone's presentations in either language.

"And now the adrenaline wears off," Tom said to no one in particular; all at once he was feeling awfully tired. A nap before catching up on his other homework wouldn't be a bad idea.

Mattieu scotched any such plans. "Well done, Tom. Come on, we're going to lunch!"

"My uncle owns a bistro in Montparnasse," Jacques explained. "He is always after me to bring friends there. We will let you order in French!"

Tom laughed, and the quartet were off for a long and well-lubricated lunch.

It was nearly three o'clock when Tom finally got back to his room and his head was spinning. But cancelling on Alexandra was absolutely out of the question, so he brewed some coffee and forced himself to get to work on the studying he hadn't had time for earlier. Before he'd even finished the coffee, he knew she was probably home from school and he could call her now. But that proved to be the best possible incentive for him to finish his studying first. After three hours of never even looking up from his notes, he was satisfied that he'd caught up, and after all, it was nearly dinnertime. With his hands feeling almost electric with excitement, he picked up his phone and dialled Alexandra's number.

Alexandra was seated at her desk at home, halfway into a bottle of wine and playing one depressing country and western song after another on Youtube. Her phone was beside the half-empty bottle. When it rang, she glared at it.

Hi, Tom. Go fuck yourself.

She felt a lump in her throat, and told herself really, the guy had a right to explain himself. True enough, she reasoned, but she didn't owe it to him to listen, did she? She glared at the phone until it stopped ringing.

Tom was surprised, but not worried. Maybe she was in the bathroom. Maybe she'd forgotten to turn the ringer back on. Or she could have run out for something to eat and left the phone to charge. He considered leaving a message, but decided he'd just try again after dinner. On that note, he stuck his phone in his pocket and got his shoes on, and was off to the dining hall.

When he returned just under an hour later, he tried again. This time, Alexandra had set her phone to silent and put it in the drawer of her nightstand, and was curled up in bed to watch a movie on her computer. Tom stuck to his guns about not leaving a message, and hunkered down for some more studying.

There was a party in the dorm lounge almost every Friday night. From his room just above it, Tom could always hear the thumping beat of the awful Eurotrash music that signalled the start of the party. He had just about managed to make it through the latest chapter of his marketing textbook when it began. As it wasn't too late yet, he gave Alexandra one more try.

Still no answer. Now Tom was concerned. He'd been down this road enough times before. She was getting cold feet. When he did finally get a hold of her, it was only a matter of which of the lines he'd been hearing ever since the seventh grade. "I don't want to lose you as a friend." "I love you but I'm not in love with you." "I don't think you're boyfriend material." "You're more like a brother to me."

If it was going to come to that, Tom saw no point in making it any easier on Alexandra. He'd wait and let her tell him when she was ready, rather than making a fool of himself. He left his phone on his bed and put his shoes on, and went downstairs to get good and buzzed. Who needed women anyway?

But when he did stumble back to his room after midnight, he did check his phone in hope she had called. She hadn't.

Saturday night was Sandy's last chance to snag Rajesh for Marie and Pete's party. Without him, having kept Tom and Alexandra apart would be a nice consolation prize, but it wouldn't be complete without Tom seeing her with another guy on her arm. That'd teach him to give up on his friends!

Towards the end of the evening, it was looking like yet another bust. Rajesh was good and juiced early on, but from her spot on the dancefloor all she could see him doing was yukking it up with his buddies, Amad and Sundeep. He had a hand on each of their shoulders and looked for all the world like he was singing to the moon. For one instant she did make eye contact with him, but he just flashed her a smile and went back to whatever he'd been saying to the other guys.

Sandy smiled through her frustration and turned her attention back to the very inebriated Frenchman she'd been dancing with. At least he appreciated how she'd worn her tight black skirt higher than ever. It was past midnight and she didn't care for the prospect of getting any drunker.

Her dance partner, whose name she didn't know, slipped his arms around her when the song ended. "How about another one, cherie?" he cooed at her.

"Oh, I just need to run to the ladies!" she lied, giving his hand a squeeze as she pulled it off her. "I'll be right back!" Rajesh was heading for the door, and enough was enough.

"Rajesh!" she caught up with him just outside the club door. "You're not going home yet!"

"I am getting too old to stay out all night every bloody weekend," he said. "Besides, the guys and I were bored in there."

"Why didn't you come dance with me?" she demanded. "Then you wouldn't be bored!"

"You were busy with that curly haired guy in there, weren't you?"

"Only because you were playing hard to get as usual!" Sandy took his hand and stepped in front of him, forcing him to look at her sexy outfit. "Don't tell me I came out dressed like this for nothing!"

"Okay, Sandy. I won't tell you." He pulled out his car keys.

Sandy was horrified. "Rajesh, you're not driving home! How many beers have you had?"

"That's none of your business and I'm just a little over." He pressed a button and Sandy saw the headlights flash on a black Mercedes Benz coupe parked across the street.

For the moment, Sandy forgot all about the party. She grabbed at his keys. He was much stronger than she, but she'd caught him by surprise and got the keys away from him. She dropped them into her top, where she felt the keyring snag on her bra.