With New Eyes

Cal came flying up the plane steps. Wheels were supposed to be up 10 minutes ago. Foster and Reynolds were probably ready to kill him, but they would be happy once he showed them his winnings. Of course he lost the $1 million at roulette. Gillian's look as the ball landed and the chips were removed let him know that maybe, just maybe, he had overstepped his bounds on this one. She turned around without a word and walked out of the casino. He spent the whole time complaining about her smothering him only to prove her exactly right in one fell swoop: He really was an idiot in Vegas.

Only after she disappeared among the casino crowd did he remember how cash poor she said the company was. He didn't pay attention to the numbers; it was her responsibility to handle the bills and books. He hated all that administrative stuff and threw away the financial statements she prepared for him. As he watched her walk away, Cal had sighed, knowing he could make the money back, even though he found poker beyond boring. When he played for Terry, he swore he wouldn't do it again. Now he knew he was in for a long evening. It took awhile to find a good poker game. Those whose money was worth his time either were watching the final table or knew enough about him to deny him a seat. He finally found a group arrogant enough to let him join. It took most of the night, but he made back a good chunk of the lost money. He was ready to see Gillian's face when he handed her the bills.

As he boarded the plane, he noticed the pilot reading the morning paper. "Hello, Dr. Lightman. Mr. Reynolds called earlier to let us know that Dr. Foster and he would be late. I've contacted the tower, and we'll be leaving as soon as they arrive." He checked his watch. "I expect them within the next 15 minutes. Please make yourself comfortable while you wait."

Cal was nonplussed. He was never the one who was early. He never was in the position to wait on others. He wondered what had happened to delay Gillian and Ben. This wasn't like them. He sat down with a magazine only to throw it back on the table and wander around the cabin.

As private planes go, this was top of the line. Nothing second-best about Ellis's taste. It was like having a small apartment at 30,000 feet. There was a small sofa with several comfortable chairs around it. The plane had a bar, dining area, bedroom, and bathroom complete with shower. Cal could have been jammed in the middle seat in coach on a crowded flight surrounded by crying babies for all the attention he was paying to his surroundings. He was too worried about Gillian. And Ben, he added as an after-thought. Nothing about the case could be holding them up. When he last saw Ben he was watching the final table. He hadn't seen Gillian since the stupid bet, but he assumed she had headed to her room to read her new novel. Where were they? He tried to call Gillian, but she didn't pick up. He looked out the window to see Ellis's limo pull up. Now he would get some answers.

The driver opened the back door and helped out Gillian. Cal forgot to blink. She did not look like Gillian was supposed to look. That little black dress, emphasis on little, was completely inappropriate for the plane. That was the kind of dress you wore on a date when you didn't expect to be in it for long. Wait a minute. Was she wearing that last night? How did he not notice that?

Ben hurried around from the other side of the car. The two of them were laughing as the driver grabbed their luggage. Ben took the bags from him and threw his arm around Gillian's shoulders. Cal wasn't pleased to see Ben whisper in her ear. Gillian stopped abruptly – Cal smiled; he knew she would be uncomfortable with Ben's presumption – but instead of telling Reynolds to back off, she gave him a sheepish smile and ran back the limo. When she started scrounging around under the seats, Cal swallowed hard and stared down the pilot who had suddenly taken an acute interest in the arrival of his passengers. Didn't Gillian know she should not be bending over in that dress?? The limo driver also seemed to be enjoying the view. Cal started to leave the plane – someone had to protect Gillian and Ben sure wasn't doing it – when Gillian backed out of the limo, throwing up her arms in victory, high heeled shoes dangling from one hand. She ran back to Ben with a huge smile on her face. Cal swallowed hard; Gillian was running around barefoot in last night's dress? He wanted her on the plane, and Ben underneath it, NOW.

Ben and Gillian finally started up the plane's stairs. She got in first. "Charlie!" She gave the pilot a big hug. "You waited for us. You're an angel!" The pilot's smile, which was broad, wavered and disappeared when he saw Cal's reaction to the exchange.

"I was happy to wait for you, Dr. Foster." While she moved around the cabin, exclaiming over every luxurious detail as if she hadn't spent five hours in this same exact plane just a few days earlier, the pilot pulled Cal aside. "Dr. Lightman, federal regulations don't allow me to fly if I even suspect someone is, shall we say, incapacitated." Cal handed over several bills from his poker winnings. "I'll let the tower know we're ready for departure."

Cal nodded absently, too busy trying to get her attention. "Gillian."

"Cal! Hi there, Cal! My pal Cal!" She giggled and danced over to him, giving him a little hip bump. Stunned, he turned toward Ben, who was dragging the bags into the plane.

"She's bloody pissed!"

"No, I'm not!" Gillian's posture of righteous indignation ended with a hiccup. "Well, maybe just a little bit." She giggled. "I think the mimosas in the limo might have pushed me over." She tried to glare at Ben, who finally got bags stowed, but her laughter did not fill him with fear.

"Hey, baby, I told you mimosas weren't your best idea, but you insisted."

Baby? Baby?!?

"They were going to charge us for the champagne anyway. I was being eco-hiccup, economical."

"Gillian, it was Ellis's private limo. There was no charge." Ben chuckled, but Cal did not share his amusement.

"Whoops!" Gillian slumped into a chair and fumbled with her seatbelt. Cal thought about letting her struggle for awhile, but when he saw Ben move to help he glared him back to his seat and walked over to her instead. Her smile was beatific even if her eyes were red and her posture swaying.

"How much did you let her drink?" he snarled at Ben as he gently strapped her in.

"Let her? Let her?!? You're kidding, right? Gillian is an adult. I didn't 'let her' do anything. She chose to drink. Now, I did try to dissuade the drinking bet she accepted last night, but she put three guys under the table with tequila shots. It was quite impressive." He smiled at her.

"To be completely honest, those guys were, hiccup, already 2 ½ sheets to the wind. I knew I could take them." Gillian smiled like the cat that ate the canary. Cal was horrified. Gillian?

"Tequila shots? What exactly did you do last night?"

"What didn't we do?" Gillian smiled at Ben. "We started with dinner overlooking those amazing Bellagio fountains."

Ben smiled back. "I still can't believe you haven't seen 'Oceans 11'. That scene by the fountains is famous!"

"I told you I hated Vegas. I stayed away from everything, hiccup, to do with it."

"It's got George Clooney, Brad Pitt, and Matt Damon. Aren't they the trifecta for women's fantasies?"

"That tells you how much I hated Vegas. My other visits weren't as fun as last night." She was rather obvious in her head bob and eye roll toward Cal.

"Well, now when you rent the movie you'll remember the fountains in full effect."

Cal wondered if they even remembered he was on the plane. Cal was particularly annoyed with the friendship developing between these two, and he was very uncomfortable with feeling annoyed. "Then what?" he demanded brusquely.

Gillian's smile got even bigger. "Ben had a connection and got us backstage at a concert."

Cal looked to Ben who mouthed, "Barry Manilow."

Cal started to laugh. "You like Barry Manilow?" Ben shushed him and said, "I don't, but she does."

"I do what?"

Ben said, "Nothing," as Cal said, "like Barry Manilow." Ben yelled to Cal, "Don't say his name!" but it was too late. Gillian started singing:

Oh, Mandy, well you came and you gave without taking, but I sent you away. Oh, Mandy. Well, you kissed me and stopped me from shaking, and I need you . . .

"Now you've done it," Ben sighed to Cal.

"What?"

"When you say his name, she starts singing. It was fine in the karaoke bar--"

"You went to a bar?"

"Three, actually, and a tattoo parlor in-between there somewhere." At Cal's expression, Ben reassured him, "She didn't get a tattoo. Well, she thought she wanted one, but I talked her out of it. We just watched for awhile." Cal did not feel reassured. "I would have tackled her if she had insisted on a tattoo. It was bad enough when she entered the karaoke contest."

"Gillian entered a singing contest?"

"She not only entered; she won! Didn't you, Gilly?" As Gillian started to sing again, Cal found himself further down the rabbit hole. Gilly?

"You should have seen her, Cal. When she –"

"Don't you dare tell him my secret move, Ben. Don't tell him what put me over the top. I may need it for an office, hiccup, office party."

Ben put his hands up in laughing surrender. "Okay, babe, it's our little secret."

Babe again? Our little secret? Cal's world was spinning out of control before his eyes. What in the hell happened?

"Oh no, by all means share." His tone was icy. Ben tried hard not to look amused. Gillian was oblivious.

"No, no, no. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas." She dramatically put her finger to her lips.

"She's right, Cal. It was a "had to be there" moment. I couldn't do it justice."

"Try."

"MAB rules, Ben!"

"What the bloody hell is MAB?"

Ben shrugged. "In our first bar we witnessed a girl getting dumped, by phone, on the eve of her wedding. She was with her girlfriends at her bachelorette party. It wasn't pretty. Gillian wanted to make her feel better and came up with the idea of a new club. She had the entire bar involved. By the time they left I think the jilted bride –"

"Francine."

"Yes, Francine was actually feeling lucky to have escaped her fate."

"MAB?"

"Men are Bastards."

Gillian interjected, "Ben is an honorary member 'cause he got us drinks. He even got a date out of it."

Even though he was getting angrier by the minute, Cal had to chuckle at the irony, "You got lucky at a 'Men are Bastards' meeting?"

Ben blushed. "Gillian saw me noticing Francine's twin sister, and she put in a good word for me. Elena lives in Baltimore. We have plans to meet up this Friday."

Gillian smiled. "You have to call me Saturday. I promised Elena she'd have fun. You know, you're a good guy, Ben Reynolds."

"I have my moments, Gillian Foster."

"She better treat you right or she'll have to, hiccup, answer to me."

Cal chose not to analyze why he was so relieved to hear that Ben made a date while out with Gillian. However, the "good guy" discussion wiped away any smile threatening to take over his face. Just then, Gillian looked around. "Are we going to take off anytime soon?"

"We're already in the air." She looked surprised. "How did I miss the take-off?"

"Oh, you've been flying high a lot longer than the plane has." Cal hoped Ben understood he held him completely responsible for Gillian's predicament.

Charlie announced that they had reached their desired altitude. Ben stood up and reached for Gillian's bag. "Hey, Gillian, why don't you get changed into something more comfortable? It's going to be a long flight home."

She beamed and hopped out of her seat, staggering a little as she tried to walk. "Great idea, Ben!" She started to unzip her dress, but at that point Cal had had more than enough of the show.

"Love, there is a bathroom right over there. You'll want your privacy." So did he as he ripped out Ben's still beating heart. Letting Gillian get out of control like this . . .

Gillian looked at Cal as if he had just discovered the theory of relativity. "You're right, Cal. I will do that."

"Here is a pair of pants and a t-shirt and . . . uh . . . some other things." Ben handed a small pile to her and she kissed him on the cheek before zigzagging her way to the bathroom.

Cal glared at Ben. "Out with it now. What in the hell did you do to her?"

Ben glared back. "What did I do to her? No, man, what did you do to her?"

Just then they heard a voice from the bathroom. "Ben, help! My zipper is stuck again."

Again?

Cal whipped back to Ben, "You get up to help her, and it will be the last bloody thing you do." Ben thought about arguing, but he had only seen that look in someone's eye once before, and it didn't end well for either party. Anyway, it was quite amusing to see Cal's jealousy rage like this. It was about time Cal realized how he felt about Gillian and did something about it. Suddenly the night's loss of sleep seemed totally worth it.

Cal stomped to the door, but his voice was soothing when he called to Gillian and offered assistance. He left to muffled sounds of a tune that sounded something like "Copacabana", but he couldn't be sure.

By the time he sat down again he was ready to do battle, but Ben was fully prepared to attack first. He launched into Cal before Cal could even take a breath. "I was expecting a nice dinner with a good friend. Frankly, I was expecting to watch the final table, but when I saw Gillian dressed like that I figured she deserved a night out, especially since you had treated her like crap the whole time we've been here." Cal opened his mouth to argue, but Ben shut him up quickly. "Yes, like crap and don't even try to pretend otherwise.

"All that 'smothering' talk as if she just lives to rain on your parade. I see a woman who has on many occasions been forced to save your sorry ass from yourself, and her thanks is to be treated like she is some sort of drag while you flaunt Poppy in her face. Poppy??? Come on, even her name was fake. As fake as the rest of her 'assets.'

You think Gillian didn't hear Poppy's comment about how she thought she was too good for everyone? You think she didn't see how much you loved hearing Poppy diss her? You think she doesn't have on tape in all its glory your coming on to Poppy by saying Gillian thought she was a bad influence? Like Gillian is some sort of Mother Hen and you're just a bad boy aching to get out from under her spinster schoolmarm influence? And then as your crowning blow you sleep with Poppy and make sure Gillian knows all about it? You made Gillian feel like less than nothing with that stunt. God, you're a prick."

Cal realized he couldn't disagree.

"So, anyway, I drive the car around to pick her up. I figure a nice meal, maybe a concert, maybe if we're really adventurous we'll go ride the hotel roller coaster. Whew, big plans that would get us back to our rooms at a reasonable hour because I am just too damn old to be pulling these all-night stunts anymore. Instead, when she finally shows she's fighting back tears. I figure you did something stupid."

He paused, forcing Cal to elaborate. "I blew the bonus on roulette."

Ben snorted. "Nice. She's lost her daughter. She's lost her husband. All she has left is the business, which she's trying to keep afloat with the cash situation we have, so why wouldn't you risk its future? Makes perfect sense."

Cal took Ben's words like a body blow, but Ben wasn't done. Within the Lightman Group, only Gillian was brave enough to call Cal out, but she only did it when Cal treated the others badly. For once, someone was going to go to bat for Gillian. "Just to let you now, she didn't sell you out. She didn't have to. Only one person causes that look in her eyes. We make it through dinner and the concert. I think she even had fun, but she was always preoccupied, no matter how much she pretended otherwise. The next thing I know she suggests a bar and I've gone from date to babysitter. Trying to keep up with a woman who is desperate to prove something is exhausting."

"Gillian's not going to like that you felt sorry for her."

Ben was angry. "This has nothing to do with pity. I saw a friend in trouble and stayed to help. She has spent enough time picking up the pieces for us. It was time someone returned the favor." He took a deep breath and smiled in spite of himself. "And spending the evening with a gorgeous woman who is funny, smart, kind, and sexy as hell wasn't too shabby for my ego either. I think I showed her a good time. Frankly, she was a blast to hang out with. If you ignore how much pain she was in."

"You didn't think to call me?"

"I tried once. No answer. Didn't bother to try again."

Cal felt about 3 inches tall. "What was she trying to prove?"

"What do you think?"

Correction: he felt about 2 inches tall.

The door opened slightly and both men stood up as Gillian came out of the bathroom. She was still humming. "I found a stash of chocolate mints in one of the drawers. Who wants one?" She noticed their expressions. "Wow, what a pair of Gloomy Gusses. Who wants to dance with me?"

Cal said, "There's no music, Gillian," then winced as she started singing "Mandy" again. How in the hell did she win a singing contest?

Ben stepped up and danced with her, maneuvering her toward the sofa. "Let's get you some coffee. Better yet, water and some aspirin. You are going to have one mother of a headache tomorrow." Once he got her seated, he tracked down the bottled water and medicine cabinet. With a glass of water and three Advil in hand, she beamed her thanks at Ben. Cal could swear he heard her purring. Then she yawned.

Cal saw the exhaustion on her face. "Love, why don't you try to sleep now?"

She had her eyes closed and was swaying to music only she could hear. "I don't want to let go of this feeling."

"What feeling?"

"Like I'm fun."

Ben started to say something, but Cal put up his hand to keep him quiet. This was her chance to talk. He wouldn't deny her that.

"What do you mean?"

"You know." She looked at him, her eyes getting increasingly glassy, and shrugged. He knew this would be painful. Gillian wouldn't try to be cruel, that wasn't in her nature, but she wasn't capable of filtering her words right now. They would come straight from her heart and hit their mark. He momentarily wondered if she would think this was a betrayal; it probably wasn't fair to let her talk when she clearly wouldn't be able to censor herself. But when he looked at her face with the pain and vulnerability etched in it, he needed to hear her thoughts and know how badly he had screwed this up. Damn the consequences. He only hoped she wouldn't remember this tomorrow.

"I wasn't the party pooper; I was the party. People, hiccup, people liked having me around. I made people laugh. Alec always said being with me was like trying to party with his mother. I met his mother." She gave a small smile and saluted Cal with her water glass. "And I know you agree with Alec on that at least. I want things too neat, too orderly, but I wasn't like that tonight." She looked at Ben and smiled her biggest smile yet. "I. Was. Messy. Thanks, Ben."

Ben couldn't help but smile back. "That you were. And it was my pleasure."

She mistook Cal's expression of sadness. "It's okay, Cal. It was fun, I was fun, but old Gillian will be back. I'll be normal tomorrow." She yawned again. "And alone." Her eyes flew open. "Ooh, that sounded sad. I can't be sad. When I'm sad, Dad gets sad and when he's sad he drinks. I'm not sad." She smiled as if to prove her point. As she slid down the sofa she was murmuring more to herself than to them, "It'll be fine. I like my life. But it was nice to be someone different for a little while." She hiccupped and closed her eyes. She looked tiny and fragile as she curled up on the sofa to sleep.

Her words by themselves didn't break his heart. It was the matter of fact tone in her voice. No self pity; just the facts as she saw them. What she thought she was and deserved. What people had trained her to believe from a very early age. Gillian – the perfect one; the responsible one; the one who never makes waves or mistakes or scenes; the one who never breaks, no matter how many bad things happen to her. You don't call Gillian to have fun; you call her when you need to be bailed out of jail. And when her daughter is taken from her, you just pat her on the back while people say something stupid like, "You can try again," or "Maybe it's for the best." You leave her to deal with her pain alone because in your heart you know her idiot husband isn't going to be there in the way she needs. But you convince yourself that you buy her "I'm fine" act until it finally becomes clear that she isn't. Even then, you still make your relationship all about you.

Funny, Cal always thought he knew Gillian best, but it was Ben who allowed her to let go and be the crazy one. Ben. Not him. Ben. He thought of his part in locking Gillian in the gilded cage. Yeah, he was a prick.

Cal grabbed a blanket from the bedroom and gently covered her. He thought about moving her to the bedroom, but he wouldn't have a reason to stay with her then. Ben came over with a pillow and handed it to him, then motioned for Cal to sit with Gillian. He sat down, then pulled her to his lap. He didn't want her to feel alone ever again.

As if Ben could follow the train of Cal's thoughts, he interrupted them, "Must be dammed lonely for her up on that pedestal everyone's so hell-bent to keep her on. What are you going to do about it?" Then Ben wandered to the bedroom to sleep, leaving Cal to ponder the question. He stroked Gillian's hair as she slept, looking at her with new eyes. It was a quiet ride home.