Kittenfish: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romantic Comedy

by Brenda Lowder

  I sneak out of bed and take a shower. As the water runs over me, unease still needles my conscience. Even after my self-therapy session I wonder if maybe the lessons of learning to feel, learning to love, and learning to lose aren’t my job to teach Tarek after all. Maybe he’s coping just fine the way he is. His discarded lovers aren’t my responsibility either. Heck, I’ve become one of them. And I’m not complaining.

  But I keep coming back to his coldness, his certainty at that moment when he yelled at me and dumped me in the shower. “Love is a lie.”

  No. He is. Tarek is the lie. Moisture that has nothing to do with the shower springs to my eyes and I blink it away. Tarek needs to learn what love is and lose it so that next time, next time he can recognize true love and embrace it. Next time he’ll have feelings for another person. Feelings he won’t be able to deny. And he’ll love her, whoever that next girl is. And he’ll heal. And that will be my gift to him. I wipe my face.

  Giselle has more work to do. She has to.

  When I get out of the shower, I dry off and wrap a towel around myself. I’m heading for my dresser when Tarek’s phone rings. He wakes up and takes the call.

  “I’ll be right in.” He ends the conversation with a finger jab to the phone screen.

  “Work emergency on a Sunday?” I grab some jeans and a T-shirt from the drawer and drop my towel to dress.

  Tarek freezes. He’s halfway off the bed, staring at my naked body.

  He licks his lips. “There’s a nervous client I have to finesse.”

  “Of course. You’d be the one to do that, if anyone can.”

  His brow furrows like he doesn’t know if I’m insulting him or not, but his face finally decides to take it as a compliment and smiles. He flattens down on his stomach and makes a grab for me past the edge of the bed. “I wish I could stay. We could go for round two.”

  “Round three,” I say, stepping out of reach and zipping my jeans. “If you count…before.”

  He smirks and turns over. “Oh, I count before. Don’t you count before? I’m still thinking about before.”

  Something about the teasing optimism in his voice has my conscience prickling again. It’s like there’s a version of us that somewhere, somehow, he has hope for. I shake away the ridiculous thought. Can’t let him get to me. Tarek has only ever been all show.

  “Don’t you have to go?” I put my bra on.

  “I guess.” He rises from the bed an inch at a time. “I mean, now you’ve put those away, I might as well.”

  I laugh despite myself and pull on a shirt. “I’ve got to run some errands, so just let yourself out.”

  I breeze out of the room without looking at him. Giselle has work to do, and this is no time for another last-minute Tarek distraction.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Giselle needs to come back in a big way. I don’t even care if I have to pay Lexy quadruple overtime to work around her play schedule. She needs to pull Tarek’s focus off me and onto Giselle or all my plans are going to fall apart.

  Giselle Bisset

  Good news! I’m back from Germany.

  Tarek Oliver

  That’s great. I’m sure you’re happy to be home.

  Giselle Bisset

  I really am. And I can’t wait to see you. I think it’s time to see a lot more of each other.

  Tarek Oliver

  Let’s get some friends together. Marissa, Kya…

  Giselle Bisset

  I wanted to see more of you.

  Tarek Oliver

  Okay. Yeah, you’ll be local again.

  Giselle Bisset

  Can’t wait.

  I wait for his response begging Giselle for a place and time to meet, but he must get called away because he doesn’t respond. I give it a few minutes then turn my computer off.

  Time to make bigger plans for Tarek and seal the deal with Giselle.

  ∞∞∞

  It’s Monday morning and, incredibly, Blaire is at work before I am. And dressed like a nun. Or at least a novitiate in a dark skirt that reaches her ankles and a long-sleeved cotton blouse. She’s wearing minimal makeup and her hair’s brushed straight.

  “Are you on trial today?” I ask her at her desk. “In The Crucible?”

  “Practically. Ronnie’s meeting with HR right now.”

  I prop my arm on her cubicle half-wall. “I thought most people got fired on Fridays. To reduce incidents of workplace violence.”

  She lifts her chin at me. “I’m not most people.”

  “That’s certainly true.”

  “And the HR department was out on Friday doing team building at a ropes course.”

  “Without the rest of us?”

  “I don’t think they like the rest of us.”

  “Apparently.” Although after that rock-climbing date with Brandon, I may be grateful. I don’t need any more ropes in my life.

  Ally the receptionist appears at my side. “Ronnie wants to see you, Blaire.”

  “So soon?” I ask.

  “Oh, yeah,” Ally says. “It didn’t take them long to decide at all.” She starts to walk away but stops and turns back around. “Troy was in that meeting, too, you know.”

  Blaire stills. “No, I didn’t know. Thanks.”

  Ally nods and leaves us.

  Blaire’s hands shake as she puts them on her armrests and assists herself to stand.

  “So did you and Troy break up?”

  “Not exactly.”

  I stare at her, waiting for her to explain.

  “We haven’t spoken…at all.” She shrugs. “Who knows where we’re at?”

  I feel sure she’s suffering—about work and Troy—more than she’s letting on, but I don’t call her on it. “Good luck,” I say. “For maximum happiness.” In whatever form that takes for Blaire, employed or otherwise.

  She swallows. “I don’t think that’s possible at this point, but thanks.” She walks away.

  Wishing I could be a fly on Ronnie’s office wall, I scoop up some papers from my desk and do the next best thing—find a reason to hover nearby.

  Lucille from Lifestyle looks up when I wave an article in her face.

  “Here,” I tell her. “You wanted to take a look at that piece on funeral homes.”

  An irritated expression wrinkles her nose. “You could’ve just emailed it to me.”

  She snatches it from me at the same moment the yelling starts in Ronnie’s office. We both freeze and strain to listen to the conversation eight obstructed feet away.

  Unfortunately I don’t hear much more than I’d hear at my own desk. There’s just a rumble of raised voices behind Ronnie’s office door until it bursts open and dispels both Blaire and Troy, giant smiles stretching their faces.

  Lucille and I and the rest of the room at large stare at them, shamelessly gaping.

  “I’ve been fired!” Blaire announces with her arms spread wide like Eva Perón.

  “And I haven’t!” Troy announces beside her, despite his usual reticence in addressing a room full of his peers about his personal business. Blaire must be rubbing off on him in a big way.

  They clasp hands and beam at each other until Troy reels her in and plants a cinematic kiss on her, bending to dip her over his arm.

  I start a slow clap. Every one of Blaire’s ambitions for maximum drama is being achieved in this moment. Others join in with more claps, catcalls, and cheers.

  “Break it up!” Ronnie emerges from her office, obviously unable to tolerate Blaire’s grandstanding any longer. “Ms. Elliott, do I have to get security to escort you from the building?”

  Blaire claps her hands together. “Yes, please!”

  Ronnie stomps back into her office and slams her door. Less than a minute later, geriatric Carl and pre-pubescent Evan—our less-than-imposing crack security team—show up and each takes Blaire by an elbow.

  “Okay, let’s go,” Carl tells Blaire in his creaky voice.

  “Read my byline at The Herald!” Blaire te
lls the room as she’s marched through. “In Sunday’s edition!”

  The Herald, of course. Sifting through memories of all of Blaire’s recent craziness, I recall her concern over the non-compete clause.

  “I’ll call you later, Marissa!” She yells to me as she pretends to be dragged from the room—Carl and Evan barely have a hand on her, but she’s dragging her feet like she’s headed for the guillotine.

  “Okay, crazy,” I mutter. Troy’s cheeks are flushed as he waves her out. He catches my eye and shrugs. She did it. He’s completely smitten, and he doesn’t even care.

  It’s true love when you can buy into someone else’s crazy like that.

  ∞∞∞

  Later that night Blaire calls me and fills me in on the whole story.

  Troy had been angry that Blaire’s bogus complaint made him the laughingstock of Sports. Angry enough to go to HR and retract it. It turns out that anonymously submitted hostile work environment claims are a red flag (go figure!) and HR not only retracted it—a win for Troy—but got Blaire in trouble for filing a fraudulent claim, a fireable offense.

  Blaire was thrilled. Both she and Troy thought it was a win for both of them. Blaire starts her new job at The Herald on Monday, though her first story will run in Sunday’s edition as advertised. And Blaire and Troy’s wedding date is set for the second of September.

  And I’m going to be the maid of honor.

  Sadly, I’m going to miss Blaire’s crazy antics at work.

  Maybe I should see if The Herald has any job openings.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  On Wednesday after work Kya and I take Valkyrie to the dog park. It’s not long before I realize how nice it is to spend some one-on-one time with the best friend I’m lying to without all that wackiness of a group date.

  My conscience does poke me a bit because although Kya knows I’m Giselle, she has no idea how determined I am to see it through to the end.

  And she doesn’t know I’m sleeping with her brother.

  Slept. Past tense, as in not going to happen again, and I’m very confused as to why it happened in the first and second places as well.

  And Kya can never know.

  Objectively speaking, there’s no way I want my best friend to know I’ve joined the ranks of the swooning masses. She’d have a different—way worse, I’m afraid—opinion of me.

  Subjectively, I think she’d freak at the idea of Tarek and me, even for the brief blip that it is. Was. He’s her brother. And I’m the closest thing she’s got to a sister. It’s almost incestuous. Not exactly Game of Thrones territory, but still.

  Hence my guilt over the secret I will never tell her.

  “How’s Chloe?” I ask as Valkyrie stops to smell a clump of weeds.

  “Good. We’re having a lot of fun, taking things slow. We went to a movie this week. That was really fun.”

  “You’re a regular couple.”

  Kya grins. “We are.”

  “Nice.”

  “Yeah. She is. It’s, um, healthier than any relationship I’ve been in before. You know I’ve always chased people. With Chloe, it’s more like we’re chasing each other.” She shakes her head. “No. Like neither of us has to do any chasing. We just are. And we like how we are.”

  “That’s wonderful, Ky.” And it is. I sigh inside. We stroll over to a bench and sit.

  Kya unclips Valkyrie’s leash and lets her run in the enclosed space. The bouncy warrior circles the inside perimeter of the chain link fence before stopping to show interest in the Chihuahua at the feet of a girl in lavender workout clothes posing for a selfie.

  “How’s Brandon?” Kya asks, and I have to pause a second to think who she means.

  “Oh, he’s fine. In fact, we’re doing really great.” Or we would be if I could manage to stop forgetting about him when we’re not together.

  Her lips press into a line. She doesn’t believe me.

  “Seriously. It’s going great. Brandon is so—” I shake my head and laugh. “He’s so real, you know? He’s got quite a future, that one.”

  “Oh? What’s he do again?”

  “Something with computers.”

  I watch Valkyrie investigate what must be a particularly hostile stick. “Do you think I should throw that for her?” I start to get up, but Kya puts a hand on my arm.

  “No, she’s fine. I want to hear more about Brandon. He’s the main man in your life, and you never talk about him.”

  I rub my nose. I’d better not be getting a cold. “I don’t?”

  “You really don’t.”

  I decide my newfound congestion is due to allergies and focus on Kya’s point. Yes, it’s unusual that I’m not gushing about Brandon. But I’m trying so hard not to discuss certain other things that I forget what I should be discussing.

  “Well, Brandon’s great. Saving me when we were rock climbing was just so sexy.”

  “Yeah. So did you?” Kya props her chin in her hand and stares at me.

  “Did I what?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Did you have sex with Brandon that night?”

  I rub my nose again and search my purse for a tissue. “That’s private.”

  “Since when? We tell each other everything.” She gives me a sly look. “Don’t we?”

  “No, I did not have sex with Brandon last Saturday night…or ever. Yet. I think we’re working up to it, though. But he lives with his mom and—”

  “He lives with his mom?” Kya sits back, laughing.

  “What? Lots of people live with their parents. It makes sense, money-wise. And it’s a help to them. Brandon takes really good care of his mother.” I don’t know that for sure, but probably. I guess.

  “Norman Bates lived with his mother.” There’s a high arch in Kya’s left eyebrow.

  “Are you calling Brandon Norman Bates? Seriously? I thought you liked him.”

  Kya crosses her arms and watches Valkyrie canter around a Labradoodle. “He’s weird.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You have to admit it’s weird that his dog has never shown up.”

  “The dog has shown up! He called me just yesterday. It seems a neighbor found the dog in the greenbelt behind their houses and returned her to Brandon.”

  “Isn’t that convenient?”

  I scrunch my forehead at Kya’s attitude. What does she have against poor Brandon? “Not really, but Blaire has been running his ad for free all this time and she put three copies of the same ad in every issue, so someone was bound to see it eventually.”

  Kya shrugs. “He’s still weird.”

  “He’s not weird.”

  “I think he’s weird, living with his mother and having a missing dog, being so calm and helpful. It’s like he doesn’t even have a pulse.”

  “What’s up with you? He has a pulse.”

  “Even if he’s not weird, he’s obviously not sexy. Otherwise saving your ass last Saturday night would have resulted in a little something something in the way of reward for him.”

  When I move to object, Kya cuts me off. “You could’ve taken him to your place.”

  I lean back against the back of the bench and cross my ankles. “I wasn’t ready.”

  “Because of Liam?”

  No. “Yes.”

  Kya nods knowingly. “I get it. You and Liam were engaged for a year. That’s hard to get over.”

  I bob my head in agreement.

  “So when are you seeing Brandon again?”

  When am I seeing Brandon again? “This weekend.” The breeze kicks up and blows my hair in my face, tickling my nose. I push it back behind my ears and fish for another tissue. “I think it’s just expected now that we’ll spend our weekends together. We don’t have to formally ask each other anymore.”

  “Oh, okay. Great. So what are you two doing this weekend?”

  Frowning, I shake my head. I don’t like her energy. What’s with the interrogation? “We haven’t made an actual plan yet.”

  “You should
come with me—”

  “No!” I interrupt her.

  “No what?”

  “No to whatever crazy group activity you have planned. I almost died last time.” I wave a hand at her and her complicated social machinations.

  She rolls her eyes. “You didn’t almost die last time.”

  “No thanks to you.”

  She shakes her head and looks down her nose at me like I’m two years old. “You were never in any danger.”

  “You’re right. Thanks to my boyfriend, Brandon, I was never in any real danger.” I lift my chin and shoot her a superior look.

  She sits back and her bottom lip curls. “Your boyfriend, huh?”

  “Yes.” I cross my arms, silently daring her to contradict me.

  “Does he know this?”

  No. “Yes.”

  “Does his mother know? Did he break up with her first before he asked you?”

  “Oh, shut up. What is with you not liking Brandon all of a sudden?” Maybe she was still mad at me for Trina. Or Giselle. Okay, there could be a lot of reasons for Kya to give me a hard time.

  Her shoulders seem to deflate and a look of resignation crosses her face. “Never mind. I do like him. I’m just teasing.”

  I tilt my head and shoot her a skeptical look, but she returns my gaze with wide-eyed innocence, and I let it go.

  “In fact, I like him so much,” Kya barrels on, “I want to spend more time with you two and get to know him better.”

  I sigh. Walked right into that one. “Doing what?”

  She shrugs and seems to think about it. “How about something like a Cirque du Soleil show?”

  Kya knows how much I love Cirque du Soleil, and the new show just opened at Atlantic Station downtown.