Sex & Sours

by Dani McLean

  Suddenly, it was very important to keep my composure.

  Even prior to the fiasco that led me here, I’d prided myself on not chasing other people’s approval. It mattered, of course, it did, but I wouldn’t chase it. I would earn it.

  I wasn’t sure what I’d done to earn this, but it meant more than I could say. More than I’d been expecting.

  Tiffany placed a gentle kiss at the corner of my mouth. “You should be proud, Sam. I know I am.”

  Long after her breathing evened out, I stared at the ceiling and wished that things were different. That there was a way to stave off the inevitable.

  32

  Tiff

  The office chair had become increasingly uncomfortable as Sam and I poured over more “research” (or what I referred to as Sam’s complete inability to be chill, which he did not find as funny as I did).

  “What’s this?” I asked, picking through the pile of papers on the desk to find an agreement for an ongoing donation and sponsorship of a local children’s literacy program. A very generous sponsorship, from the looks of it. Fuck, he really was a saint.

  “That? It’s …” He plucked the paper out of my hands, holding it close as the tips of his ears tinged pink. “Nothing. I don’t even know how this got in here.” He stuffed it under his laptop, avoiding my eyes.

  I continued to watch him squirm for a moment until he cleared his throat and pointedly gestured towards the pile of articles on his desk that I’d promised to help him read. Picking one up at random, I sank back into the chair, a warm smile clinging to my lips.

  Sam looked up as I stretched again, trying to ease the ache in my back. “Coffee?”

  “Please.” I smiled when he didn’t immediately move. No doubt he’d get lost in what he was reading and completely forget. Again. No matter. Once I’d finished this article, I’d go and make one for both of us.

  Unfortunately, finishing it was proving difficult. “Ugh, this article is complete BS. Millennials don’t want a neighborhood bar? What kind of uninformed ass wrote this?”

  “I hardly think the city’s longest-serving paper would employ someone that meets that criteria.”

  “Oh, really?”

  He adjusted his glasses before rolling his shoulder; for the third time in the last hour. I was tempted to massage it but wasn’t sure he’d agree (according to Sam, we needed to maintain professional distance or something). As a consolation, I admired how handsome the thick frames made him. Very sexy professor. I dug it big time.

  “Regardless, it’s worth knowing if this is the pervasive perception, even if it isn’t true.” That would explain the notes Sam had made in the margins. Which. Was fucking adorable. Not that I was going to tell him that.

  “Which this isn’t. Jesus, they realize that the problem with these places that have shut down isn’t the location, right? Firstly, ‘millennials’ isn’t the term they should be using. It completely excludes people born after ’96. Secondly, have they seen these places? They’re stuffy and utterly rude to anyone under the age of forty-five. Of course crowds are avoiding them!”

  I threw the article onto the desk. “Ugh. This is exhausting. Why did I agree to help you do this again?”

  “Frankly, I have no idea.” Amusement curled around his words, his eyes never leaving his laptop screen. I watched, transfixed as his eyes darted over some text, seeing in real time the way his eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed in response to whatever he was reading. “Dammit,” he whispered.

  “What?” He rarely swore aloud, so I could only take this as extremely serious.

  One hand scrubbed the rough shadow on his chin as he continued to read. When he was done, he shook his head, disappointed. “The contractor has informed me they are unable to start construction on the back wall for another month. Which will delay the re-opening.”

  “Fuck. Did they say why?”

  “No, but I’m going to find out.” He was already dialing the number.

  If he wanted me to clear out, he didn’t make any gesture to do so, and I was far too curious not to want to hear, so I leaned back in the chair, crossed my arms, and waited.

  Polite as always, I could still hear the terseness in Sam’s voice and see the downturn of his mouth. Whatever they were telling him was not good.

  “Well, I’m disappointed to hear that. Please have him call me so that we can work this out,” he said before hanging up.

  “What’s the verdict?”

  “He confirmed the delay. Said another job has taken precedence.”

  “That’s ridiculous. Weren’t they set to start next week? For them to bump you, someone must be paying them a lot of money.”

  There was a pause while Sam massaged his temples, and oh. I realized, belatedly, there could be only one person with enough contacts to persuade a delay like this.

  Someone I’d just so happened to tell to go fuck themselves recently.

  God. Motherfucking. Dammit.

  Anger and guilt had already formed a substantial lump of coal in my gut when Sam confirmed it. “It appears Pierce is quite close to the construction manager. He spun some story about there being a scheduling conflict, but it’s obviously a lie.”

  That slimy piece of chauvinistic, pretentious, land waste.

  This asshole didn’t have anything better to do? He wasn’t busy enough? He needed to find time to fuck things up for other people?

  Without a word, I stalked out of Sam’s office and shoved on my coat and scarf, blood rushing in my ears. If Pierce had something to say, he could damn well say it to my face.

  The bitter cold did nothing to cool my anger as I stalked the six blocks to Pierce’s wine bar. Damn October chill. At least it wasn’t raining. Yet.

  It wasn’t difficult to find the man of the hour. Tucked behind a sleek desk, in a room fresh out of “executives monthly,” Pierce looked grotesquely pleased with himself. My eyes fell on the large Dali hanging behind him, and I barely stopped myself from rolling them. Yeah, okay, Pierce. You’re very cultured. We get it.

  “Miss Young, I wasn’t expecting you.”

  Liar.

  I skipped the pleasantries. “Mind telling me what the f—” I caught myself. I was here for Sam. Be nice. A visible shudder rolled over my shoulders. “—hell is going on? Our contractor just delayed by four weeks. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

  “No. And I’m not sure I like what you’re implying.”

  Lying liar asshole. My fists were balled by my side, and it was taking all my effort not to scream in his splotchy face right now. Breathe. Flexing my fingers, I counted another long breath before I trusted myself to speak. “I don’t believe you. I think you know exactly what I’m implying. Everyone knows you and Mike are tight. I want to know why you did it.”

  “If I spoke with him, I don’t see how that’s any of your business. And if my close personal friend decided to make a call based on some information I shared with him, then that’s his prerogative. Perhaps he felt it wasn’t in his best interest to partner with a business whose staff are so openly hostile.”

  The pressure in my jaw tightened, and I forced myself to release it. There was nothing I wanted more than to tell Pierce precisely what I thought of him. In detail. Preferably with some sort of physical instrument in hand. And if I were only here to defend myself, maybe I would. But this was bigger than me.

  I tried to remember what Sam had said about diplomacy.

  “What is your problem with me?”

  “You’ve disrespected me from the beginning.”

  “You haven’t earned my respect, Steve.”

  “Is that right? And this visit, what were you hoping to gain?”

  ”I was hoping you’d realize that you’re punishing a good man for no reason.”

  “I hardly think a small delay is a punishment. Sam’s a businessman. He understands that these things happen. And you’re wrong. I have a very good reason. Your boss doesn’t appear to understand one fundamental
principle: don’t fuck with me.”

  “You have some nerve.”

  Silence ensued. Somewhere in the room, a clock clicked loudly as the seconds passed, driving my blood pressure higher with each tick. My skin itched under Pierce’s soulless stare. If I gave one inch of a shit about what Stephen Pierce thought of me, I might have gotten uncomfortable. Instead, I dug my heels in, ready for a fight.

  “You know, all these years I knew you were callous, cruel even, but this? This is beneath even you. What do you even get out of fucking with Sam like this?”

  Finally, his expression changed. Immediately, I wished it hadn’t as a slimy smile spread over his reddened cheeks. “Maybe this will teach you some manners. It’s been frustrating to be in your orbit these last few years. Every chance you’ve had, you’ve managed to insult me. If I’d had any other opportunities, I would have taken them and kept this between us. Sam isn’t worth petty inconveniences. Given his current choices, the bar will close itself by the end of the year.”

  “The fuck you talking about? Sam’s ten times the businessman you are.”

  “He’s fine,” Pierce shrugged. “Although, it does surprise me that he’s kept you on. I wouldn’t have expected the two of you to work well together.”

  Little did he know.

  Pierce continued. “Maybe now he’ll see what a liability you are.”

  Oh, what I would do to smash something in this room. Probably that damn clock. After another slow breath, I said, “This doesn’t have anything to do with Sam or the bar, so I’d appreciate it if you would leave them out of it.”

  “You’d appreciate it, would you?” Pierce bared his teeth in a condescending grin. “How about this, Miss Young. You get the hell out of my office, or I’ll have you thrown out and charged with trespassing.”

  “You fucking piece of—” The door slammed satisfyingly loud behind me as I stormed out.

  33

  Sam

  My phone screen flashed beside me. There was an email notification and an alert for an appointment. I ignored them both.

  An hour ago, I’d read the email regarding the delay and been frustrated. Five minutes ago, I’d received a phone call from the contractor canceling the contract, and frustrated didn’t begin to describe what I was feeling.

  As quickly as she’d stormed out, Tiff barrelled back into my office. “That no good, piece of sh—”

  “What happened?” I had a fair idea based on the phone call, but I needed to hear it from her.

  “Pierce happened. I couldn’t stand the idea that he was messing with you to get back at me, so I went over there to straighten him out.” She dropped into the chair opposite me, fingers gripping the armrests. “Fuck, Sam. I think I just made things worse.”

  “You shouldn’t have done that. I can fight my own battles.”

  “And just stand by while that fossilized jerkoff slanders your name and messes with the bar? Yeah, ok. You clearly don’t know me very well.”

  “This is about more than just you, Tiffany. This is the bar. My bar. My business. Did you think about that at all when you were over there, yelling at him?”

  “Of course, I did! Why do you think I went there in the first place?”

  “Because for some reason, you couldn’t sit this one out when I needed you to.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “What did you think was going to happen? That Pierce would apologize and everything would fall into place? Were you even thinking at all? Or did you just react?”

  “At least I stood up for you. What were you going to do? Sit back and take it? If Pierce thinks he has you in his pocket, he’ll never let you forget it.”

  “There’s a way to do things. There are rules. They might be unfair, but that doesn’t change the fact that I have to play by them if I want to stay in business.” My fingers rubbed over the growing ache in my temple. “Do I want to tell him to back off? Yes. But there are better ways to handle it. Ways that don’t result in me losing thousands of dollars.”

  “Like a nicely worded … Wait, what?”

  “The contractor called back. Unfortunately, due to threats made by staff, they no longer feel comfortable fulfilling the contract here. They aren’t going to seek damages, but they are going to keep my deposit.”

  “That’s bullshit!”

  It was.

  “Fuck, what do we do?”

  “There’s nothing we can do. I’ve been over the fine print twice already. They’re within their right to withdraw their commitment if the working conditions put their staff at risk, and the deposit was non-refundable.”

  “But I didn’t even threaten them. We should sue.”

  It was an option. But one that would cost considerable time and money that I didn’t have.

  “I really wish you hadn’t gone to see him. You need to be able to hold your tongue occasionally. Not all of us can afford to say what we want when we want. There are consequences.”

  “You think I don’t understand that? That’s why I went over to Pierce’s in the first place. I didn’t mean to fuck things up further.”

  Tiffany’s head hung low; her hands clutched in her lap. All at once, my anger seeped away.

  “How did it feel?”

  Slowly, her gaze lifted, questioning.

  “Telling Pierce off. How did it feel?”

  Though she smiled, it didn’t reach her eyes, and I hated Pierce for putting us both in this position. “Not as good as I thought it would.”

  Rounding the desk, I pulled her out of the seat into a hug, feeling grounded once she was in my arms. Her breath was warm against my neck, where she’d buried her head. “So, what’s the plan?”

  That was a great question. Technically, this meant there was less to do to prepare the bar for the re-opening. It wasn’t a relief.

  “We move on. Keep going.”

  Disappointment filled me. It would be easy to blame Tiffany, but I should have known better. If I’d stuck with my first instinct, I wouldn’t be in this position. I’d taken the risk. And once again, I was facing the consequences.

  34

  Tiff

  Sam had more integrity in his little finger than Pierce could ever even hope to have. He didn’t deserve this.

  If only I’d punched him.

  If only I’d quit sooner.

  If only I’d kept my mouth shut at that damn dinner.

  Fuck. It was one thing to run my mouth when it only affected me, but this was Sam’s chance to start over, and I’d just gone and messed it up because I couldn’t handle a little worm like Stephen Pierce for five minutes.

  “Sam. I’m so sorry.”

  “You have nothing to apologize for.”

  But that was a big, fat lie, and we both knew it.

  I’d have to make this right. I wasn’t sure how exactly (the thought of apologizing to Pierce was the equivalent of ripping off my fingernails), but there had to be something. Some way to help Sam kiss the collective asses of the bar elite and get them back onside.

  I excused myself and started thinking. I was fucking capable woman. I had to know a way to fix this.

  Two phone calls and one favor later, I had a solution.

  “Thanks, Diego. This means a lot.”

  “Hey, I’m the one who owed you, so no skin off my nose. It’s just, are you sure this is how you wanna call this even? I know we talked about getting you a column here, but that’s off the table if we go ahead with the interview. Is this worth more to you than that?”

  It was disappointing to lose out on a job opportunity, but there’d be more, right? Sam deserved a strong shot at making this work and not having Stephen fucking Pierce punishing him for my carelessness.

  “Yeah, Diego. It is.”

  “Ok, if you’re sure. But you’re still my number one go-to for recommendations. You know, if you wanted to, you could just start tweeting this stuff, and you’d find a following.”

  My eyes found the ceiling. Even Diego was getting in on this now? “You k
now I’m an acquired taste. Not sure my special brand of sweet and salty can come through in text.”

  “Then film it. Come on. Tiff. Media is changing. There's a million different platforms you could use to share this stuff. Make TikToks, get on Twitch, whatever you want. But trust me, you've got a voice people would listen to."

  Everyone but Pierce. “I’ve got a voice that makes a lot of people angry."

  He laughed. “Sometimes that's even better."

  35

  Sam

  Despite the fact that the back bar changes were now dead in the water, I’d at least been able to make progress with the rest of the bar.

  Removing the booths required only some heavy hands and a destination for the materials, and after reaching out to a few contacts I'd made in the area, I’d been put in touch with a local group who reclaimed the wood, and they’d worked quickly. They were in and out in two days.

  After that had been done, I’d had the walls repainted, and the new tables were due to arrive tomorrow.

  I still needed to decide on a name.

  Tiffany strode into my office, unexpected but looking beautiful in her determination. I fought the urge to kiss her breathless or lock the doors and keep her in my bed for hours.

  She stood, arms crossed. “Right. I hope your calendar is clear this morning because a reporter from The Tribune is going to be here in ten minutes for an interview.”

  “What? How?”

  “I know a guy. Now, I figure if you kiss Pierce’s ass a little and mention that you’re about to replace the head bartender before you reopen, you should be able to fix this shit show with the contractor and get things back on track.”