Disorderly

by Grace, Hazel

  “You don’t talk much about your mom,” he points out.

  Feeling self-conscious, I shift my weight to one leg. If Noah and I start getting more serious, he isn’t going to get the family dinners like a normal couple would. Mom only throws parties for her business partners and potential clients. We haven’t spent Christmas together in over ten years because she goes to Paris with whatever young boy toy she is screwing at that time.

  “She’s a complicated person,” I deadpan.

  “I get that.” The wedding guests start to come in, their chatter echoing off the marble walls. "You want to wait for Paige outside, starting to get too rich in here for me."

  Peering around the room myself, women are dressed in beautiful glittery gowns that look to cost what I make in a year. Jewelry off an older woman reflects off the sun, beaming prisms around the room, probably diamonds. I look at the door, one of the footmen wearing a top hat and black suit, opens the door again, letting in a stunning redhead in a gold gown, and on her arm walks in the stranger I kissed in the stairwell. Rugged.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  “Let’s go out the back,” I tell Noah, tucking my arm under his.

  Rugged’s dressed in an all-black tux, looking like a mischievous devil with his hair pulled up and his tattoos decorating his neck. His eyes lock onto mine like he hears my thoughts from across the room. His lips curve into a smile, and my body goes into full-alert mode. The hairs on my arms stand on ends and the word "Leave” echos in my head. Noah starts for the side door, taking me with him.

  The click-clack of shoes on the marble floor forces me to peer over my shoulder and, sure shit, the motherfucker is walking toward us with the beauty at his side. He points at Noah and winks. It takes me a second to digest that he thinks I am a hooker on my next date, Noah.

  Awesome.

  Bringing my hand around my back, I extend my middle finger, and I hear his deep chuckle all the way to my bones. Then I’m out the door.

  Noah: Gone with the Wind is playing this Friday at the drive-in. Still good on that date?

  Me: Omggg! Yessss!!

  Noah: So easy to please.

  Me: I really am.

  Noah: You need lessons on how to properly date. I could be a rouge.

  Staring at his last text, I bite my bottom lip. I feel as though I’m too fucked up in the head to even give it a solid go. Noah was, so far, everything I could ask for—kind, great sense of humor, easy to talk to—but my traitorous mind drifted to Rugged when Noah and I hung out for the rest of Saturday, and it needed to stop. Something about him hauled my immediate attention toward him and it was annoying as fuck.

  A knock sounds on my apartment door before the door opens, Paige’s face peeking around it. “Mornin’ Sunshine.” She waves two coffee cups in the air.

  “You’re a Godsend,” I hum.

  “That’s what all the men tell me,” she banters with a full-face smile.

  “You got your hair done.” Her light brown hair is highlighted in caramel highlights, which bring out her big brown eyes. Paige is beautiful, with full pink lips, olive skin, and a rocking body. She pulls the room to attention every time she enters it.

  Paige turns her head from side to side, her ponytail swaying in the air. “Do you like it?”

  I nod. “It looks great. But where did you find the time?” Paige sets her purse on my kitchen counter, and my eyes widen. “Is that a real Coach purse?”

  Paige smirks. “Aren’t we observant this morning?” My phone vibrates in my hand and I look down at it.

  Noah: Pick you up at six?

  “Why are you frowning?” I look back up at my best friend, the only person I trust. My only piece of family.

  When Dad died, she was there, holding my hand through the viewing and funeral. Mom looked relieved, like the burden of her marriage had been lifted and she was a free woman. I shouldn’t judge her, he was cheating on her for God knows how long, but he was my dad, and we were close. He took me out for ice cream, dinner dates, and he took me to see Disney on Ice when I was a kid, so I could see Princess Aurora, my favorite, obviously.

  “It’s Noah,” I say. “I think he’s hinting at possibly seriously dating.”

  Paige shrugs. “So? You need to get laid.”

  I blow out a breath. “Can’t argue that point, but I don’t have time for a boyfriend.”

  “Why?”

  “The business, that’s my focus.”

  Paige pops her butt on one of the stools next to the kitchen island. “I’m dating.”

  I raise a brow at her. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

  She chuckles. “You’re impossible, Nov.”

  “I just don’t want the distraction right now.” I look down at my phone. “And he’d definitely be one.”

  “He is smoking hot. I can’t believe you haven’t crawled all over that.”

  “Because I don’t trust myself, really. It’s hard to let someone in.”

  “Get Jerry out of your head right now,” Paige demands, jumping off her stool. “That asshole doesn’t deserve the thought.”

  I take a deep breath and exhale. “I know.”

  Paige reaches me, placing a hand under my elbow. “Look at me.” I lock eyes with her. “Over. It’s done. You’re safe here.”

  “I know,” I repeat.

  “New life, remember? That’s what we said.” I nod. “Good girl. C’mon, let’s get to work.” She walks over to the island to grab her coffee. “I can’t be late; my boss is a real bitch.” She laughs as she makes her way out my apartment door. I trip her with my foot and she stumbles, throwing me into a fit of laughter.

  Paige and I make our way out of the elevator and through the front doors of my apartment. The day is gorgeous, the sun is beaming its warm rays through a cloudless sky, and the city is bustling its morning commute to work. Paige links her arm with mine, sipping at her coffee as we make the two-block walk.

  “What are you debating about?” Paige asks, breaking our silence.

  “Noah wants to go on a date on Saturday. Gone with the Wind is playing.”

  She nudges my side. “You love that movie. Go.”

  “Paige, seriously, I don’t know if I’m—”

  “My God, Nov, you act like you’re a divorcee or some shit. You’re twenty-four, do twenty-four-year-old shit. Make mistakes, go be wild and crazy, which to you is making a tinder account and going to see Gone with the Wind. Seriously, you disappointment me. I thought I taught you better than that.”

  I chuckle. “I hate you.”

  She laughs. “Aw, I hate you, too.”

  “Okay, I’ll do it. What the hell, right?” We stop at the curb, looking both ways before jaywalking across the street.

  “Right. Can I do your makeup? I can bring some dresses over and—”

  “It’s a drive-in. I’m not going to the gala.”

  She snickers. “Easy access.”

  “Don’t have me trip you again. That top you’re wearing is cute, and I’d hate for your coffee to make an appearance on it.”

  “You’re evil when you want to be, do you know that? Can you at least wear some ripped jeans? I know that’s super scandalous to your 1940’s dressing requirements, but make your best friend happy.”

  “Fine.”

  “And a cute top. You have nice tits, let the world see them once in a while.”

  “Fine.”

  “And—”

  “Don’t push it, bitch.”

  Paige tsks as she pulls her arm from mine to grab the bakery keys. We open shop, bringing out the cupcakes we made last night along with the assorted pastries and muffins. Our morning rush hits quickly, and soon, we’re bustling together to grab coffee, tea, and wrapping up our customer’s wrapped goods. Our rush ends at eleven, and I’m already exhausted.

  “I’m starving,” Paige grumbles, wiping down the countertops. “Coney sound okay?”

  “How can you not be tired of
Coney?” I laugh. “It’s all we’ve eaten since leaving home.”

  “Because my stomach is eating itself and it’s fast.”

  Peeling my apron off, I wash my hands at the small sink by the coffee machines. Walking over to Paige, I hold out my hand. “Money, please.”

  She rolls her eyes at me, digging into her dark jeans to give me a twenty. “Double cheeseburger, extra ketchup, no onion, and—”

  “Chili curly fries with no cheese,” I finish.

  She smirks. “You know me so well.” Her smile fades. “That’s dangerous.”

  “Byeeeee!” I’m already traveling toward the front door when the bells jingle. I could go the rest of my life without hearing bells; they went off so much this morning.

  The Coney isn’t too far, about four blocks, but I welcome the time away from the bakery. My feet ache from pacing back and forth from the register to the coffee maker as I make a mental note to buy better shoes.

  I enter Mick’s Coney Island a few minutes later. Cindy’s standing behind the counter taking an order for two men. Her face lights up when she sees me, but she keeps writing down the orders of her customers. When she’s done, she comes over to me.

  “My sweet Nova, how are you?” She reaches over the countertop to give me a hug. Cindy is in her late forties and is everyone’s mother figure in town. When Paige and I used to work here, she’d give us extra tables and would purposely mess up an order so we could eat for free, but she’d never admit it.

  “Good!” I reply.

  She smiles wider at me, the creases around her eyes appearing. “Grabbing some lunch? How’s the bakery doing? I hear a lot of people saying such good things about it. Mick is getting pissy, says you’re taking a portion of his breakfast business.”

  I roll my eyes. Mick is a fat asshole who did nothing but sit in his office, barking orders and counting money. On top of it, he’s a pig. He makes passes at the waitresses, ogles the high school girls who come in after school to order fries, and I caught him staring at my ass a few times.

  “Bakery is fantastic, hard work, but so worth it. And, yes, to lunch.” Cindy pulls out her notepad and pulls the pen from behind her ear.

  “What are we having?” I order Paige’s food and, for myself, the same thing but with mustard and extra pickles. And two of the best chocolate milkshakes. Cindy walks off to put her ticket up for the cooks and refills coffee cups. Sitting at one of the stools, I pull my phone out.

  Pulling up Noah’s last text, I send one back.

  Me: Hey, busy morning. Six sounds great. See you then.

  I place my phone on the counter and it vibrates immediately.

  Noah: No biggie. Make sure you eat.

  I smile. It’s those small details that makes me like him.

  Me: At the Coney right now.

  Noah: That’s a good girl. I’ll text you later.

  Me: Talk to you then.

  Noah: I look forward to it. Have a good day, beautiful.

  “I’m jealous with whomever is making you smile like that,” says that deep voice I’d remember anywhere.

  Slowly turning to my right, Rugged is sitting two stools away from me, wearing a brown leather jacket with a blue shirt underneath. He sends me a grin that sends goosebumps up my arms, and I find myself squeezing my phone to keep my composure.

  “Is it normal for victims to talk to their attackers like this?” I force myself to say.

  His grin widens as his eyes follow a waitress bustling behind the counter. “Come here often?”

  “Answering a question with a question,” I note, keeping my attention averted.

  He chuckles. “I’ve never seen you in here before.” That makes me laugh. I worked here non-stop, including holidays and weekends to save more money for the bakery for three months. “What’s funny?”

  Cindy intervenes by coming over and glancing from me to Rugged. “You havin’ the usual, Wyatt?”

  He nods in my direction. “I’ll have what she’s having.”

  Cindy’s eyes furrow. “Liver and onions?”

  Wyatt makes a look of disgust and looks at me. “Really? I pegged you for a cheeseburger kinda girl.”

  Cindy chortles. “She is. Mustard and extra pickles. You good with that, sweetheart?” Wyatt confirms it with her, and she saunters off with his order ticket.

  “Had me worried there for a second,” Wyatt mumbles, leaning his arms on the counter.

  “Why?”

  His gaze hits me like a ton of bricks. “Cause I don’t like being wrong.” A burst of giggles brings our attention to two blondes sitting in a red booth. “I bet they ordered Diet Cokes and an order of fries to split.”

  I cock my head to the side. “What do you do, read people for a living?”

  “Skill set I learned at a young age,” he deadpans, then sets his sights back on me. “And you don’t seem like a person who throws herself at random men. So, what’s with the escort at the wedding?”

  I raise a brow. “Did I look like I was dressed for a wedding?”

  He strums his fingers along the countertop. “Touché.”

  “Thought you said no judgment,” I counter, letting my arms rest on the table.

  He shrugs. “Just learning who my attacker was is all.”

  “Now you’re just trying to make me feel bad.”

  He turns his stool to face me. “Really? Because I was trying to make you feel good in that stairwell.” I feel my lips part as my jaw relaxes.

  I don’t have anything cute to say, no smart-ass comment. He did just that, but I’m not about to stroke his ego any more than it probably is. I bet he’s laid every single female in this town.

  “Why are you frowning?” he asks.

  “Just thinking about this order I have. Just popped into my mind,” I lie.

  He raises a brow. “Another one like the one yesterday.”

  “My God, I hope not.”

  “Do I need to clear my calendar for more—”

  “Stoppp,” I whine, not even caring that I am. “I told you that it was a one-time deal.”

  “Now that’s a pity,” he replies. “You just ruined a man’s day, Rora.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “And she swears too.”

  I hold his green eyes with mine. “Like a fucking sailor.”

  He wags a finger at me. “My mama told me to stay away from women like you.”

  ”Like what exactly?” My lips quirk in a smile as he shakes his head.

  “Ah, don’t smile like that toward me.”

  My smile widens, and I bat my eyes for an added effect. “I don’t know what you mean.” He laughs, deep and delicious, sending a ripple of sparks through me.

  “Tell you what, you have something that these other females don’t have in this town. You know what that is?”

  I lean back in my stool chair. “I can only imagine.”

  “Balls.”

  Before I can answer, Cindy places two white bags in front of me and then Wyatt’s one. “She doesn’t have balls, son,” Cindy informs. “She has tits and a nice ass.”

  My head whips back to her, eyes wide. “Cindy!”

  “And hasn’t dated anyone since she’s been here,” she adds.

  “I am dating someone.”

  She just laughs, sliding our bills over.

  Wyatt throws down two twenty-dollar bills. “Keep the change.” He grabs his carryout bag and mine, and waits for me to hop off my stool. “See you later, Cin.”

  “You don’t have to buy my lunch,” I tell him, but he is already halfway to the door.

  Holding the door open for me, he lets me pass holding out my bag for me to take. “Nice seeing you again, Aurora.”

  I give him a weak smile motioning with my plastic bag.“Thanks for lunch.”

  “Anytime. Catch you around.” He holds up his hand in a wave and begins to walk in the opposite direction down the street. Turning on my heels, I begin back for the bakery, feeling disillusioned.

  “Hey Rora!”
Turning on my heels, Wyatt is looking at me from across the crosswalk. “Cindy is right, you do have a nice ass.”

  I can’t help the smile that spreads on my face as I flip him off. He laughs, and I keep walking, putting more into that walk than I need to.

  I insist on Noah picking me up from the bakery for our date. I don’t have time to go home and change because we got Meghan’s order for her wedding cake that needs to be ready in two months, but I’m happy to work with her. Unlike Katherine, Meghan is sweet and gives me free rein over the cake flavors for her to try.

  “C’mon, Nov, get the frosting off your face. Noah will be here in forty-five minutes,” Paige announces through the kitchen door.

  I shake my head as I decide to try a chocolate mint recipe I’ve been dying to make. “I think I’m going to reschedule. There is so much to do and—”

  “Drop the recipe book,” Paige demands. She walks deeper in the kitchen, rounding the metal counter just to close the book. Placing both hands on my shoulders, she turns me to face her. “You promised you’d go on this date.”

  “I didn’t promise to—”

  “Shut up.” She sighs. “You said I could do your makeup and dress you up in ripped jeans and a cute tank.”

  “I promised you could dress me, not that I’d actually go to—”

  “Shut up, Nov.” Turning me around, she pushes me through the kitchen with her hand on my back. “In the bathroom, right now.”

  For the next thirty minutes, I let Paige dress me like a doll and apply makeup to my face. She promised she wouldn’t make me look like a drag queen, so I let her have her fun. It was nice to be pampered in a way, the only makeup I wore was mascara and chapstick. After she was all done, I looked in the bathroom mirror.

  Damn.

  I look good.

  Dark blue jeans that, of course, were ripped and a light pink crochet top. The outfit is simple but adorable. Paige straightened my dark brown hair and had me wear ankle high boots.

  “Well?” Paige asks, admiring her work.

  “I love it,” I extend, examining the perfect eyeliner. The familiar bells chime up front and Paige smiles at me through the mirror.

  “Lover boy is here.” She winks at me, making her way out the bathroom to greet him. Taking a deep breath, I walk out, demanding myself to give this a chance.