Mixed Emotions

by MIA HEINTZELMAN

  “It’s practically noon on a Monday. What big event is going on? Can’t you at least give me a hint?” She meant it to sound hopeful, but it came out seductive and breathy somehow. All she needed were the waggling brows.

  “How about you get your mind out of the gutter? You do realize every emotion you have shows on your face, right?”

  She giggled. Yes.

  “It’s all right. I feel it too, but we cannot live on sex alone.”

  Busted. Zora laughed out loud. “A woman can dream.” She could feel the heat on her cheeks. She was blushing. “Whatever. A hint.” Preferably, before I spontaneously combust.

  “Let’s just say, you won’t be disappointed.”

  And she most certainly was not.

  After he parked, they walked a couple of blocks while she studied every building and sign for clues. As soon as they turned into the Hollywood district, she knew exactly where they were headed.

  “Oh my gosh. What are we seeing?” She bounced.

  His eyes lit up “That’s the surprise...”

  As they reached the corner of Sandy and 41st, the ornate façade of the Hollywood Theatre came into view with its half-arches and spindly pillars that were right out of a Rococo architectural design handbook. Every time Zora had been there, she spent as much time gazing at the gorgeous exterior as she did watching movies.

  This time, it was the massive marquee that caught her eye.

  One by one she read the names. “The Breakfast Club, Less Than Zero, Howard the Duck, Flashdance…” Her eyes darted frantically from title to title.

  “It’s a marathon,” Mike said, jerking her from her thoughts.

  Zora’s mouth was still agape as she continued. “Are you serious?” She kept reading. “Footloose, Karate Kid, Goonies—oh, my God, I love Goonies—E.T.…” she squealed. “I think I’m short-circuiting. “Yes! Short Circuit! ‘Johnny Five alive!’ and Back to the Future. I had the biggest crush on Michael J. Fox.”

  The last title on the right side of the marquee was Some Kind of Wonderful.

  Oli called it when they were cooking at Cuisinette.

  I’m Keith, and Mike is my Watts.

  She blinked and wondered if she had been taking him for granted all this time. Did Mike love her and only realize it once she was in pursuit of someone else? Even if Andre was a douche, was he the reason this whole thing between her and Mike rekindled from a spark to a blazing flame?

  The texts from the night of her date with Andre came flooding back. Specifically, back to the lie among Mike’s truths.

  I was not at the silent disco last Friday.

  He was there.

  He saw the kiss and he thought he was about to lose me.

  Zora’s eyes widened. We are in Some Kind of Wonderful.

  Overwhelmed and amazed at the level of thoughtfulness and this new realization, she turned and threw herself into his arms in a scramble of urgent hugs and kisses. All over his face, she smothered pecks on his lips and his nose and both cheeks and eyelids.

  “I can’t believe you did this! This is so amazing.” She brushed her lips over his again, closing her eyes, slowing down the kiss. No one had ever done anything like this for her before. She couldn't make sense of his thoughtful gesture, but for now she didn’t want to. She didn’t need to. Whether she was his Keith and he was her Watts, or it was just sex for him, she didn’t care. Maybe they were really good friends with benefits, but this moment felt good and right. She didn't want to ruin it by overthinking and overanalyzing.

  She could get lost in her worries later.

  “So, get this…” Mike started between peppered kisses. “Jason calls me this morning and says his firm wants to hire me.”

  Zora raised a questioning brow at him, but he waved it away.

  “You know how stubborn he is. Anyway, when I didn’t bite, he abruptly changed the subject and told me he had tickets to an eighties movie marathon at the Hollywood. Apparently, his plans changed, so he said if I wanted them, I could pick them up at the box office.”

  “I’ve been basically Google-stalking people online for weeks for these tickets,” Zora said. “They were going for like a thousand a piece on StubBox, and Jason just gave them to you?”

  Mike kissed her again, this time more urgently, and Zora could barely stand upright.

  Through the kiss, she asked, “Are they seats way in the back?” Like the freaky seats in the back?

  She could feel Mike’s lips curl into a smile. A low rumble escaped him. “Your mind is so filthy, but I love it. Had no idea you were such a freak.”

  Two trailers in before Some Kind of Wonderful started, they were seated and stocked with popcorn, Junior Mints, and peanut M&Ms when Zora felt her phone vibrate against her thigh. It wasn’t a text message. It was an Instagram notification—a new post from Sophia.

  With Mike looking over her shoulder, she tapped on it, and a picture illuminated the screen. A white piña colada with a pineapple slice and a vibrant pink cocktail umbrella sat on a glass table beside Sophia and Everett’s clasped hands. It was cute and romantic, really. One problem: At the top right corner of the picture, almost cropped out, was a jade and gold Fabergé egg cradled on a cherry wood stand—uncannily similar to the one-of-a-kind one that belonged to Sophia’s mother, Helen. The last time Zora checked, the woman lived in Las Vegas, nowhere near Bali.

  “Ohh.” Zora narrowed her gaze and shook her head. “When was the last time you talked to Ev and Sophia?”

  Mike cocked his head and furrowed his heavy brows. “What?”

  “When was the last time you talked to them? I’m serious.”

  “Um. Let’s see.” He leaned his head back and drummed his fingers on his thighs. “I think it was the Friday they left. Why?”

  “Look at this,” she pointed to the egg, which was usually in the center of the glass table in Helen’s formal dining room, based on all the pictures Sophia and her mom shared. Now, it was pushed off to the side, in an unsuccessful attempt to move it out of the picture.

  Liars.

  “Is that Sophia’s mother’s Fabergé egg?” Mike asked.

  Zora nodded. “They are up to no good. What are they doing? Why would they lie about going to Bali? I mean, they could have come back early and had nowhere to stay with Patton Place going through repairs, but it just doesn’t add up. Why didn’t they call us?”

  Mike paused, seemingly caught up in his thoughts. “And why haven’t we heard anything more about the fumigation or the repairs? Hold on a sec. The phone number didn’t work, but I think I still have the email from the pest control company.”

  Mike searched through his messages on his phone, and Zora began putting together the pieces to the puzzle in her head. She was just getting her mind wrapped around the big picture when the lights in the main auditorium went down and the 50-foot screen brightened.

  The movie was starting, but this was just the beginning.

  She was left with nothing but darkness, the feel of Mike’s warm hand in hers, and the smell of popcorn and conspiracy brewing.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Mike

  Two movies later, Mike and Zora had barely stepped foot out onto the curb in front of the brilliantly lit Hollywood Theatre when Zora began to vent.

  “We’re totally being set up.” Her eyes were wide and she kept running her fingers through her short hair and shaking her head.

  She was still bent out of shape over the egg in the picture. Not that Mike wasn’t right there with her, feeling outraged and slightly duped by his best friend, but he was more annoyed than anything. This was supposed to be his chance to surprise her and enjoy some quality time. Now she wasn’t thinking about the movie marathon or the gesture. Her mind was centrally focused on the idea of a conspiracy by the hands of her family.

  “Did you know anything about this?” Her narrowed gaze locked in on him.

  Mike threw his hands up. “Nope.”

  The tension drained from her shoulders, but there w
as still fire in her eyes. By the way she stared off into the distance shaking her head, he knew she was stewing.

  “Okay, so let me get this straight just so I can wrap my mind around this…farce,” she said.

  Mike sighed. This was classic Zora. Once her mind was set on something, she would gnaw it to the bone. The only way he was going to get her attention back on him was to help her work through her thoughts.

  “All right, fine. Let’s do it.” He tugged her hand until they were on the edge of the curb out of the way of the theater exit. When they were facing each other, she nodded, seemingly waiting for him to help her see the logic.

  “Just to play devil’s advocate,” Mike began. “You think Everett and Sophia lied about the risk to the baby and her needing to be on low activity? Then they faked a vacation to Bali in order to go Vegas and stay with her mother?” He winced at the way the whole thing sounded coming off his tongue. It was sticky and slippery going down that road.

  “No…” she trailed off, chewing on her lip. Mike could almost see the wheels turning. She was coming up empty. “I…just…why would they lie?”

  Mike didn’t believe for a second Everett and Sophia would lie about anything related to the baby. Why would they skip Bali and go to Vegas instead, though?

  “Shit.” He took a sharp intake of air. “Oh, shit.”

  “What?”

  Now he was chewing on his lip. “What if…”

  “What?”

  He winced and scrubbed his hands over his face. “If she needed to stay off her feet as much as possible, it was obviously because of stress, right?” Zora nodded. “Sophia has been working herself to the bone planning the wedding and preparing for the baby. What if they decided the wedding was the biggest source of their stress and eloped in Vegas with her family?”

  Zora gasped. “Everett wouldn’t leave us out. There’s no way he would do this without us.”

  A honking car horn blared beside them on the street, causing both of them to jump. They were both on edge now. Mike was the one who’d come up with this scenario, but even his blood was boiling now. Everett was basically his brother. Would he get married without Mike standing by his side as his best man? They’d promised each other years ago, whoever was stupid enough to find a ball and chain, the other would be dumb enough to help him carry it. It was in stone.

  “The way I see it, there’s only two possible options.” Mike was shaking his head even as he said the words. Everett was his boy. No way in hell he would leave Mike and Zora high and dry on this one. “I know they wouldn’t lie about the baby. Not after what Sophia has been through. So, it’s either they lied about going to Bali to secretly tie the knot in a quickie Vegas wedding. Or, they lied about the dry rot and termites to get you out of their house and into mine.”

  Zora’s face lit up as she appeared to register the implications of the second option. They could confirm the fake dry rot and termite situation tomorrow, but if getting Zora out of the house was Everett and Sophia’s main goal, they were up to more than vacating their lives. They were matchmaking.

  Shit.

  Given the hand Sophia’s family had in setting her up with Everett, Mike wouldn’t put this past them. But this was bigger than Everett and Sophia. It meant, not only was Sophia, Everett, and her family involved, Olivia was also in on it, since Zora’s party at the silent disco. He just needed to prove it.

  He squinted his eyes and ran the tip of his tongue over his top lip.

  “Do me a favor,” he glanced up at Zora from his phone. “Call Olivia and ask her if I was at the Silent Disco.”

  “Why?”

  He scrolled through his messages back to the one Olivia sent two and half weeks ago, responding to him after he and Kate arrived at the party. He flipped the screen around and set it in Zora’s hand.

  Mike watched as a crease between Zora’s brows appeared. Her eyes were glowing stars in the blue hombre sky.

  “That was the night she set me up with Andre. She was really pushing hard for him, too.” Her lips pursed, and she folded her arms, lightly tapping her foot, likely retracing her steps before and after the party.

  This made complete sense. The blue dress. That wasn’t Zora. The impromptu party, the man, they were all Olivia’s doing.

  Oli never told Zora about inviting Mike and let him walk in on her tongue tied with another man. His blood boiled just remembering how he felt when he’d walked right into Olivia’s trap. She knew it would make him jealous as hell, and it worked like a charm. The way Everett, Sophia, and Olivia spoke in hushed tones and scurried away when Mike entered the kitchen on game night only confirmed they were plotting.

  Come to think about it, Olivia was the one who suggested they play Two Truths and a Lie.

  Did she really have family in town? Was that really the reason Zora wasn’t able to stay at her place? Her line of questioning in the kitchen basically confirmed the whole family was in on getting Mike and Zora together. Olivia knew their history and how abruptly it was over before it began, but she also knew the fire was still there just waiting to be reignited.

  Apparently, everyone knew except for him and Zora.

  He cocked his head to the side, wondering who else might be involved.

  Did Jason really have other plans? Is it too much of a coincidence he just so happened to have a pair of eighties movie marathon tickets?

  He glanced down at Zora. “Has Olivia mentioned the family who’s supposed to be visiting her, or the repairs at Patton Place? What about the party? Did she even mention she invited me?” Mike’s questions were coming rapid-fire now. He needed to get to the bottom of this quickly.

  “She said you weren’t invited.” Zora’s mouth fell open. She and Mike were obviously on the same page now.

  “I can’t believe this shit,” Mike said.

  Zora had a look of realization on her face when she spoke again. “They all did this. They didn’t think we’d make it back to each other on our own.”

  It was the truth of the matter, dispelling all the lies they’d been telling themselves—love would find a way, even if it required a helping hand. Or, in their case, hands.

  The more Mike imagined all the people coming together for such an elaborate ruse, the more amused he became. They were on his team. Maybe this was just the push they’d needed.

  “Tell you what. How about we go home, get into some comfortable pajamas, and finish this marathon on the sofa? Maybe you can cook—“

  “Shit.” Zora’s eyes went wild. “Shit. Shit. Shit. What time is it?” She started frantically digging into her purse for her phone.

  “It’s almost a quarter to eight. What’s wrong?”

  “I’m supposed to be cooking, preparing. Leanne said she wanted what I had in by Tuesday, which is tomorrow. So, I’ve basically got the rest of the night to come up with something brilliant. Shit!” She threw her phone back in her purse, squeezed her eyes shut, and began wringing her fingers. She let her head hang back. “I just knew it.”

  Mike gently cupped his hands over her shoulders. “Whoa. It’s okay. We’ve got more or less four hours until it’s officially tomorrow. I think we can put something together. It’s basically a progress report, right? This isn’t the final stuff she needs.”

  “No, but, dammit. I knew it. In my gut, I knew this would happen. I should have said no and stayed home when you asked. This is exactly what I was afraid of. Being around you—“

  “Don’t.”

  Mike’s heartbeat raced and his muscles tensed. His nerves were raw, pulsing on a wave of adrenaline. “I won’t let you minimize how great this day has been. I’ve loved spending every minute with you and I know you’re worried about the cookbook, but don’t let’s this be your excuse to pump the brakes.”

  Zora sighed. Mike could see her worries and panic washing over her.

  “I’m here, Zo. I’ll help you because that’s what people do when they care about each other. They roll up their sleeves and dig in. Please, I’m begging yo
u. Don’t shut me out again.”

  Zora swallowed then tilted her head from side to side, seemingly weighing her options. “Well…okay, fine, but let’s hurry. I can’t afford to screw this up.”

  Mike breathed a sigh of relief.

  Neither can I.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Zora

  Zora gathered the recipes she already had and piled them on the table then she just stared at all of it before slumping onto the barstool. She was hopeless. It wasn’t the ideas she struggled with. In no time at all, she could come up with a million recipes. Assembling them in arbitrary categories to go with a theme and a niche? That was where she got lost. Apparently, it was also the point where Mike stepped in for the rescue.

  “Here’s the thing. You’ve got a lot of good stuff, but it’s all over the place,” he said.

  With a sigh, Zora grimaced. “I know. I don’t know what to do because I thought I had it figured out. CreOlé was going to be my theme—creole and Mexican food fusion. Then, just to be safe, I did a web search for the name, and it was already taken. The worst part is, it’s just some website with a whole bunch of jibber-jabber about nothing.”

  Mike bobbed his head. “Okay. That’s fine. So, it wasn’t another cookbook then?”

  “No.”

  “Then we’re good. The theme is still original. All we need is another name—just something as a placeholder. It doesn't’ have to be the final title.” He pressed his forefinger to his lip for a second. “How about…Creole que sí? Like creo que sí, ‘I think so.’ Or, Mexicreo. Or Mexcreo. Anything, so we can get started.”

  Zora was still pouting. This was supposed to be the beginning of her empire, but she sat up straight anyway. “I like those.”

  “Good, now we know the theme and the ‘niche.’” He air-quoted the word. “The way I see it, every good cookbook should have something for each meal of the day. Plus, some snacks and drinks. She didn't say she wanted everything, so we have time. Why don’t we focus on one meal—the first meal of the day—breakfast?”