by Whitley Cox
“Orgasmic?” the woman who had introduced herself as Isobel piped up, popping one of the goat’s milk caramels into her mouth. “I feel the same way when I produce a slam-dunk graphic, particularly if the customer goes ape over it.”
Paige pointed at her and then touched her nose. “I definitely went ape over the logo you made for me. It was perfect.”
Isobel beamed, continuing to chew. Her face lit up, and she pinned her blue-eyed gaze on Lowenna. “Holy fuck, that’s good. Is that goat’s milk and caramel?”
Lowenna nodded. “It is. It’s a fan favorite. One of my favorites too.”
Isobel shut her eyes and sat back against the couch, chewing slowly. “Guys, I think I might actually have a mini-climax here. Be warned. Things might get a bit weird in a sec.”
The rest of the women in the room lunged forward and grabbed chocolates from the box. All of them then sat back against their seat backs and shut their eyes.
Silence filled the room. Followed by low moans of delight.
It took no time at all for Lowenna to figure out she really liked these women. She already knew and really liked Violet. And the others were just as sweet, sassy and sarcastic.
“Yeah … ” Zara said, finally breaking the quiet. “Orgasmic.”
“Everything okay in here?” Luna poked her head around the corner into the room. “It suddenly grew really quiet.” A petite blonde woman was behind her, her sky-blue eyes full of curiosity.
Slowly, eyes around the party room opened, serene smiles still glued to all the women’s faces. Lowenna loved that her chocolate had that effect on people. She would never grow tired of watching people eat her creations.
“We’re doing just great,” Violet said with a smile. “Just enjoying some chocolate.”
A knowing grin slid across Luna’s face. “Ah, gotcha. I get the same way when I eat anything from Wicked Sister.”
Lowenna’s face grew warm, and her heart fluttered.
“Sarah?” Violet asked, her eyes drifting over Luna’s shoulder to the woman behind her. “Is that you?”
The blonde woman stepped out from behind Luna and made her way into the party room. “Hey Violet. Great to see you, and congratulations on the baby. That’s fabulous news.”
The two women embraced, Violet once again not getting up from her spot on the couch.
“I promise that Adam and I will still have something for Art in the Park this year. We’ve already been working on our new routine. Might not be as long or as wild, but we’ll have something.”
Sarah’s red-painted lips broke into a big grin. “I never doubted you for a second.”
“You here to let out some rage?” Violet asked, confusion bunching her brows.
Sarah shook her head and glanced back at Luna, who still hung by the door. “No, uh … Luna and I … ”
Understanding quickly dawned on all the women’s faces.
Violet’s green eyes went wide. “Oh!”
“I like to take all the broken dishes and stuff from here and make mosaic art with them,” Luna started. “Had a few of my pieces in an art show in November that Sarah was in charge of and, well … ” She shrugged, love glowing in her eyes as she stepped into the party room and looped her arm around Sarah’s waist, pulling the blonde woman into her and kissing the side of her head. “For me it was love at first sight. Sarah here took a bit of convincing. She still thought she was straight.” She rolled her eyes and grinned. “Silly woman.”
Sarah’s fair complexion pinked up quickly. “I’m bi. But Luna won my heart pretty easily. She’s just so … ”
The two women could not have been more different. Luna was tall, almost statuesque with a bright shock of short, pink hair, numerous tattoos and piercings, heavy eye makeup and an almost punk-rock clothing style. While Sarah on the other hand was short and curvy with long blonde hair, no tattoos from what Lowenna could see, only one piercing in each ear and subtle makeup. She also dressed quite chic. At the moment she was sporting tailored dress pants and a matching jacket in a flattering navy and white pinstripe, and she had a soft, sky-blue colored silk blouse beneath it.
But love came in all forms, and given the way the two women were looking at each other, Lowenna could tell there was a lot of love between them.
“I’m so happy for you guys,” Violet said, grabbing another chocolate from the box. “This is awesome, and Luna, let us all know when you have your next art exhibit. I know I’d definitely love to attend.”
Luna tugged Sarah closer into her embrace and nodded. “For sure. Now, are you ladies ready to smash shit?”
A series of hell yeahs and definitelys echoed around the room.
Paige and Tori helped Violet to her feet, and within moments, all the women were filtering out the door toward the smash rooms. With walls made of transparent acrylic glass, the smash rooms each housed tables and shelves covered in things you could demolish. Plates, vases, lamps, printers, old photocopiers, toasters, fax machines, mugs and bowls, wooden furniture. Anything that could be destroyed using a crowbar or a baseball bat and Luna probably had it in the room. She also had a series of “weapons” lining the wall. Lowenna usually preferred the aluminum baseball bat, as it packed a good wallop, but sometimes she mixed it up and reached for the tire iron or putting wedge.
She assumed everyone had their preferred weapon that they felt best “let out the rage.”
“Now there are seven of you, and I only have eight rooms, and there are other patrons here smashing shit. So what I’ve done is designate six rooms to your party. Three of you will smash at the same time, then we’ll switch, and you can move over to the other three rooms while the first three rooms get cleaned up. Then we’ll have the last person”—she glanced at Violet—“I’m assuming the mama-to-be, will want to go apeshit in the last room?”
Violet shrugged. “Sure. I don’t have a lot of rage in me right now—or energy for that matter—so the final smash might be lost on me. Maybe we should let Lowenna go first, and then the rest of us go in two sets of three. I think she’s got the most rage right now and understandably so.”
Lowenna’s chest and cheeks grew hot. But she also didn’t correct Violet. By the time Doneen had left, Lowenna was ready to take a baseball bat to the entire chocolate feature. It beat taking the bat to her sister’s face, which was what she really wanted to do.
Any hopes she may have harbored for a miraculous reconciliation with her big sister were tossed into the trash, just the chocolate her sister had chewed and then spat out.
It’d taken her a bit longer than it should have to come the realization that Doneen and her would never be besties, but now that she had, she was going to let the anger take over. No more being the doormat to keep her sister or parents happy. She was a goddamn cancer survivor, an entrepreneur and good person. She didn’t deserve her sister’s shit and abuse—nobody did.
Her hands twitched at her sides as the need to grip a baseball bat or putting wedge coursed through her veins like an electric pulse.
Words and murmurs of agreement flitted through their small group.
“That sounds like a good idea,” Aurora said from the back of the group. “Do we have a big picture of Brody we can put in a frame so she can smash his stupid face?” Her laugh was sharp and hard. “I wouldn’t mind one of those myself, actually. Bastard made me pick up his dry cleaning for months. As if my plate as a first-year associate wasn’t already full as fuck.”
Luna grinned, her smoky-eyed gaze falling on Lowenna. “I actually do happen to have their picture. And I have a working photocopier.” She glanced at the other women. “Would you all like a photo of Lowenna’s fuckface of an ex-husband and his blushing bride-to-be?”
“Sure would,” Tori said. “A lot of us are involved in their wedding in some way, and not a one of us can stand them.”
Sarah rubbed Lowenna’s back. “I can do that. I’ll be right back.” Then she smiled at the group before taking off down the hall toward the office.
“So, how do you guys all know each other?” Luna asked, leaning against the wall. Her eyes fell to Lowenna. “You dating a Single Dad of Seattle?”
Lowenna averted her gaze, her bottom lip getting snagged under her top teeth.
“She’s dating Mason,” Tori said, waggling her dark, perfectly threaded brows up and down. “Or at least she’s kind of dating him.”
Luna’s mouth formed the perfect O. “Ohh, lucky girl. Mason’s a hottie.”
“Mhmm,” Tori said, nodding. “I could watch that man with his baby all day long. Gives me chills and makes my ovaries explode every time I see him wear her in the Ergo.”
“You say the same thing about Aaron and Sophie,” Isobel said. “Mark’s not sure he wants you to be alone with my boyfriend anymore. Thinks you might go into oestrous, your baby fever is so damn strong.”
Tori shrugged. “What can I say? We got some hot men in our little makeshift family, and I want a baby.”
“You also want to finish grad school and your business class,” Isobel replied, her tone just a touch lecture-like
“Like I always say,” Paige cut in, “it’s not how you get your appetite as long as you go home to eat. Mitch likes how excited I get after I see Zak work out at the gym. I usually run home and jump his bones.”
“That’s my boyfriend,” Aurora said with a chuckle.
“And he’s hot as fuck,” Isobel said matter-of-factly, all the other women nodded behind her.
Aurora nodded as well. “That he is.”
“All right,” Sarah said, coming back down the hall with a slew of photos in her hand, as well as a stack of ugly picture frames. “Let’s smash the shit out of this bastard’s face.”
While Sarah and Luna went to task getting the rooms set up and adding the photo frames with Brody and Doneen’s save-the-date, Lowenna got on her gear: protective goggles, work gloves and, because sometimes sharp chunks started to fly, Luna now made her customers wear lab coats to protect their arms. Apparently during the summer, a few people had shown up to The Rage Room wearing shorty-shorts, tank tops and flip-flops, and when the china and glass started to fly, it had scratched up and cut some limbs and feet. Now Luna was covering her ass by making sure everyone wore pants and long-sleeved protective gear, and if they didn’t come with close-toed shoes, she had rubber rain boots people could borrow.
“How are things going with you and Mason?” Tori asked, sidling up next to Lowenna as she placed the goggles over her eyes. “Violet says you guys are doing really well in dance lessons, better than your sister and ex-husband.”
Lowenna pulled on her gloves. “Things are going well. My sister just informed me of a rehearsal dinner though, and I’m not sure I can ask Mason. I’ve already asked so much of him.”
Tori shook her head dismissively. “Oh, he’ll totally go if you ask him. I still can’t believe you’re paying him. I hope he offered to do it for free.”
Lowenna nodded. “He did. But I can’t ask that of him.”
Isobel, with a wineglass in her hand, came to stand next to Tori. “By the time the wedding rolls around, you won’t be paying him, mark my words. I can see it in your eyes when you talk about him or any of us mention his name—you like him. And I bet you he feels the same way.”
Lowenna reached for the aluminum baseball bat off the wall, shaking her head as she tightened her grip. “No. I can’t let myself get distracted. I have a job to do.”
“You mean the chocolate for the wedding?” Tori asked in surprise. “Because I’m sure you can do both. Date Mason, fall in love and get married while still running your chocolate shop.”
Lowenna made sure her goggles were secure, then she nodded at the women, who all took a step back out into the viewing area. Tori shut the door.
A tap on the acrylic glass had Lowenna turning her head.
“Beat the living shit out of him,” Violet mouthed. The rest of the women nodded and gave their own words of encouragement, not that Lowenna could really hear them, as the glass was pretty thick and intended to be kind of soundproof.
She gave them a thumbs up before lifting the baseball bat behind her. She set her eyes on the tacky porcelain frame in the center of the table in front of her, zeroed in on Doneen’s face, and swung the bat with all her might.
The photo frame took instant liftoff and sailed across the small room into the white concrete wall on the far side, where it smashed into half a dozen large chunks before it slid down to the wall and shattered further.
Did that ever feel good.
Cheers nearly as loud as the fans at CenturyLink Field during the playoffs erupted beyond the glass. She turned her head, the corners of her mouth nearly reaching her ears. All the women were cheering and clapping. Tori and Isobel were banging on the glass, encouraging her to do more.
It had only been one swing—a good swing—but she already felt better. Maybe it was the wonderful company and how welcome they all made her feel. But whatever it was, company or catharsis or a bit of both, Lowenna had a hard time setting her mouth back into a thin line of concentration. She wanted to smile. She wanted to laugh.
You have a great laugh.
Mason’s words came back to her, and then his face and his dashing smile flitted behind her eyes.
How was she supposed to harness the rage now when all she wanted to do was smile? When all she wanted to do was hear his voice, hold his baby, dance with him until her feet fell off.
“Hit stuff!” came a loud voice from beyond the glass.
She turned to see all the women giving her various perplexed looks.
“Go crazy!” Tori said, having been the one to call out to her before. The wine in her glass sloshed nearly to the rim as she rapped on the glass again.
Then Zara opened the door. “Everything okay?”
Lowenna nodded. “Just building the rage, that’s all.”
Zara’s blue eyes said she understood there was more to it than that, that she was able to read between the lines. But she didn’t say anything else and just nodded, smiled and shut the door again.
Taking a deep breath and lifting the bat up into the air once again, Lowenna pushed thoughts and images of Mason and Willow clear out of her head and let Doneen and Brody’s faces replace them.
Her sister called her Lowly.
Her sister called her wicked.
Her sister blamed her for bringing cancer into their family and for exaggerating her condition.
Her sister started sleeping with Lowenna’s husband while she was struggling to get through her chemo treatments. While her hair was falling out in her hands, her lips grew chapped and mouth became filled with sores, her sister was betraying her.
Droplets of sweat beaded on her brow as the heat of rage flowed through her.
Then she thought of Brody.
Stupid, selfish, traditional, status-climbing Brody.
While she was vomiting in the toilet after treatments, covered in a chemo rash and damn near wishing for death from the extreme headaches, Brody was sneaking out to go and have sex with Doneen.
While she was saying goodbye to any chance she might have of carrying her own baby, Brody was plotting and planning their divorce, dreaming of having a baby the traditional way with Lowenna’s sister and her intact, cancer-free uterus. Brody was betraying her.
She gripped the bat tighter, lifted it behind her head, shut her eyes, screamed like a banshee and swung the bat down hard into the tacky seventies-style vase on the table.
She did it again to the lamp on the desk and then the printer and the fax machine. The ugly mishmash of plates and bowls all stacked up against the wall on a shelf. Then she took down the shelf. Splinters flew in every direction.
With each swing, with each smash, with each shard that flew past her, the rage inside her grew stronger. Grew hotter.
Showing Brody and Doneen up at the wedding with a hot date on her arm wasn’t enough anymore.
She needed to get revenge.
She needed to find
a way to get even.
After everything Doneen and Brody had done to her, and continued to do to her, they deserved humiliation. Pure, no-holds-barred humiliation.
Now, she just had to figure out how to make it happen.
By the time she was done, by the time the room was successfully destroyed, Lowenna was soaked in sweat and hotter than a summer forest fire. With each swing, she had envisioned a new way to exact her revenge. With each swing, that revenge grew more and more severe. She’d entered a dark place she hadn’t gone before, and even though she knew it shouldn’t, it made her feel good.
Her chest heaved as she put the baseball bat back into its resting place and opened the door, pulling her goggles off her face and handing them to Luna.
Eight sets of eyes, because Sarah was still there too, all stared back at her. Disbelief and perhaps even a touch of fear twisted their faces.
“Holy shit,” Aurora murmured. “That was intense.”
“Yeah,” Tori said, her throat bobbing on a swallow.
Zara held out her wineglass to Lowenna and she took it gratefully, draining it and wiping the back of her wrist over her mouth.
“Feel better?” Luna asked.
Lowenna nodded. “Yeah. I do. Things seem clearer than ever now.”
Slowly, each woman seemed to relax and smile. Tori, Aurora and Paige all began to suit up.
Isobel stepped toward Lowenna and brought her voice down a touch. “Be careful. I know they hurt you, and I know you’re angry, but whatever you’re planning, just … ” She brought her voice down even lower. “Just be careful. Rage is a powerful thing, but it can also be blinding and dangerous when left to its own devices.”
Lowenna lifted her gaze to the young woman’s face. She would probably put Isobel around twenty-six or twenty-seven. Not much younger than Lowenna, but she looked young. Her eyes, however, were the eyes of an old soul. Wise and knowing. Isobel studied Lowenna’s face just as intently as Lowenna studied Isobel’s.
The sound of the women chatting and laughing around them seemed to fade into the background.
