From my seat at the bar I have a clear view of the harrowing scene as it all unfolds.
Henry startles from the impact, backing away with a polite apology before realization sets in. His eyes widen, his brows rise, and his mouth drops open.
Her brown eyes play a game. She feigns shock. But I know this run-in is no surprise for her. She’s here for a reason. She needs something. She’s here for him.
They awkwardly lean in for a hug; their cheeks brush together. She pulls away first. Both faces return to their professional masks. Emotion was never something either one of them wore for very long.
She starts to speak, and his intent gaze meets hers. I hold my breath, scared that he’ll fall into whatever trap she’s setting. No. He’s over her now, I remind myself. There’s no trap she can set that he’ll fall into. He loves Tina.
Sasha continues to talk. Henry nods a few times in response. What is he nodding at? Damn him for having an unreadable face.
Damn her for having one too. Maybe if she didn’t, I never would have been so blindsided. I could have been prepared. I could have… Stop. This is not the time to reassess and obsess.
I need to go over there. Step in. Put an end to whatever scheme she’s cooking up. Right now. I drain my glass, set it down on the bar, and stand up.
“Another, miss?” The bartender picks up my empty glass.
“Oh, um,” My head whips over to where Henry is tenting his fingers in contemplation. This is not good. I probably shouldn’t. But... I mean, what does it take? Thirty seconds? “Sure. One more.” I tap my foot while he mixes up another whiskey sour, then slides it over to me. I thank him and take a long sip to fuel myself before charging over to save my brother.
“Welcome aboard.” Henry extends a hand to Sasha. They shake. I’m too late.
“No! What are you doing?” I shout, using my free hand to tug and claw his away from hers.
“Jennifer, stop it.” Henry yanks his arm from my grasp and quickly collects himself, adjusting his sleeve.
“Jenn.” Sasha gasps, and the small clutch drops from her hand to the floor. Henry automatically swoops down to collect it. “What are you doing here?” Her voice stumbles, and shaky fingers automatically start tucking her locks behind her ears.
What’s this? Nervousness? From the unbreakable Sasha Dubovoy. Shit. She must really be up to no good.
“My girlfriend, Tina, was unable to make it tonight,” Henry announces proudly, standing back up. “My sister graciously filled in.”
“Yes, graciously.” I hold up my glass of graciousness. “But I think the better question is what are you doing here?”
“Sasha’s company was just hired by Faulkner for a renovation project. Sasha will be leading up the design team,” Henry informs me, as if there’s nothing wrong with every single word he just said.
“Um, okay. No.” I shake my head. I take a sip of my drink. Sasha continues to work on regaining her composure, but surprisingly, is still failing miserably. “Henry, can I talk to you for a minute?” I place a tight grip on his bicep. “Over here.” He rattles off apologies as my firm grip guides him all the way to the lobby.
“I know what you’re going to say.” He holds up a warning finger. “But let me stop you right here. It’s business. She’s great at her job. I’m over her.”
“She’s an opportunist. You can’t let her back into your life like this. She’s … no good!” I stomp my high heel onto the hard marble, and some of my drink spills out from my glass to the floor.
“That’s enough.” Henry takes the glass from me. “My involvement or lack of involvement with Sasha is none of your business. It never has been. We were together. It didn’t work. And finally, I’ve moved on. Why can’t you?”
“What? I’ve moved on,” I say, studying the pattern on the floor. “What are you even talking about?” My hand itches to have my drink back. “I’m just looking out for you.”
“You don’t need to.”
“So you’re just okay allowing Sasha to waltz back into your life like this?” I’m stunned. Shocked. “Well then, I guess... fine.”
“It is fine,” he says matter-of-factly. Only he doesn’t know any fucking facts, not when it comes to her. I’m still hazy on some of those facts myself.
“Great. So everything is fine. Let’s just hope she doesn’t tear your fucking heart out again,” I fire out before storming away, my heels hitting the floor in a series of angry clicks, leading me back to the bar.
The ballroom is more crowded, so therefore the bar is too. Shit. I tug on the front of my dress and adjust my cleavage for some prompt service assurance from the male bartender. Yeah, yeah, feminism. I need a fucking drink. Two men walk away, and I jump into the open space, leaning my elbows on top of the bar, claiming the area as my own.
“One of the partners requested me for the job. I assumed it was Henry.” Sasha wastes no time stepping in next to me and immediately starts with an explanation I don’t give two shits about. “That’s why I’m here. I had no idea it was actually Mr. Clayton.”
“A whiskey sour, please.” I ignore her and give my full attention to the bartender trying to inconspicuously check out my fantastic boobs.
“This again. Lovely.” She sighs, then holds a hand up to flag the bartender. “And I’ll take a glass of merlot, please.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I say, foiling my plan to freeze her out until she walks away.
“It means I called you, many times. You never answered. It’s obvious that you’re still the immature little girl who would rather ignore an issue than meet it head-on.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” My jaw drops. Immature? That’s not…. I’m not.... “I don’t have to take this shit. I’m so out of here.” I pull my phone out and click on the Lyft app as if I’m calling for a ride. I’m not, but it makes a point.
“See?” She sips. “More ignoring. Very mature.”
“Okay.” I spin on my heels to face her, wagging a finger. “First off, if anyone did any ignoring, it was you. Ya know, how you kind of ignored the whole fact that you were a les-bi-an while dating my brother.”
“Can you lower your voice?” Sasha glances over her shoulder, seeing if anyone heard my drawn-out word. “These are my colleagues.”
“Oh, okay, gotcha.” I cover my lips with a hand and whisper out the side of my mouth. “You’re still pretending. Good idea, because I can’t imagine how it might look if it ever came out that an interior designer was gay.” I roll my eyes and take a gulp of my sour concoction. “I have the same problem in the hairdressing industry.” Another eye roll. Another swig.
“I’m not pretending.” Her face falls with a hint of defeat, and I ignore the small twitch in my chest. “Not anymore.”
“Oh, so you do admit though that you were pretending?” I can’t even look at her. Who did she pretend more with—him or me? I stare down at what’s left of my drink before downing it in one final gulp.
“I wasn’t pretending. At the time, I tried to tell myself that I was attracted to both genders.” She still whispers.
“Oh, I see.” I toss my head back and use laughter as my armor. Being this close to her scent, her face, her voice, I’m unprepared. But I can’t let her crack me. “Bartender, I’m gonna need another one of these, please.” I’m not drunk, but Lord fucking knows I want to be. “And I guess you never told Henry about your ‘bisexuality’?”
“I didn’t.” Her hand runs anxiously through her silky stands. Again, I have to look away. I can’t risk her warm brown eyes melting my icy heart. “I had every intention of discussing things with him at some point. But….”
“But what?” What reason did she have for lying to my brother? Breaking his heart? Tearing apart mine? My glorious new drink is placed in front of me, and I wait before taking a sip.
Depending on her answer, I may need this for throwing.
The Other Barclay
She’s killing me.
I always knew if I s
aw her again, it wouldn’t be easy. And seeing her here, like this, surrounded by coworkers with Henry in the same room... it’s too much.
“This is a conversation for another time.” I grab my clutch and drink to walk away. Jenn is beautiful and colorful, stunning in her evening gown. Finishing this conversation is a necessity. However, this is neither the time nor place.
“That’s fine.” Jenn raises a brow over one of her hazel eyes. They’re similar to Henry’s. Only hers are much greener and more full of life. “But there will not be ‘another time.’”
“There has to be another time,” I say, and try as I might, I can’t control the expression that follows. Her eyes briefly lock with mine before studying my face. I know she can see the hurt and anguish I’m failing to hide. Her long lashes flutter over her pale skin as she closes her eyes and sighs.
“You left me so confused and broken that night.” Her shoulders drop and one purple strand of hair slips from her sleek updo. “He’s my brother. I should never have.... We should never have.”
“I know. I know.” I want to pull her into my arms and hug her, but the location stops me. “That’s why I’m asking you to please talk to me. We can have dinner or coffee. I just want to talk.”
“I don’t know.” She gives a sideways glance toward the room, her eyes scouring, looking for Henry. I look too. He spots the two of us, his brows knit together for a brief second, then he smiles and waves before returning to his conversation. “I can’t. I’m sorry,” she says. “This weird chapter of my life needs to close. I’ve been holding on to it for too long. Goodbye, Sasha.” She leaves her drink on the bar and starts to walk away.
Desperation tugs inside of me. I can’t let her walk away.
“If you won’t talk to me, I’ll come to the salon.” My words stop her in her tracks. Jenn may have ghosted me, but I still follow every post she makes. “Maybe I can meet Remi.” Adam’s girlfriend. Jenn’s best friend. Her coworker at the salon. Jenn may be open with her sexuality, but I’m sure I’m the one thing that never came out.
“Why are you doing this?” She walks back, her pink lips sinking into a frown.
Guilt washes over me. I know the right thing is to let her go. But seeing her like this. In person. Hearing her voice. I can’t.
“Because I don’t want the chapter to close. Jenn, me and you....” My fingers graze her arm, and her skin reacts. She looks down at the goose bumps and raised blonde hair my touch causes. She knows I see it too. “Have dinner with me.”
Silence looms over us. Please say yes.
“Why does it have to be you?” she says more to herself than me. “This is so fucked-up, you know?”
“I do.” We both glance back over in Henry’s direction. “But it’s just dinner.”
Her gaze meets mine and even though she’s quick to look away, this time I catch a glimpse of fire behind her eyes. I saw it then and it still burns now.
“Just dinner,” she says before walking away. I try not to watch as she vanishes back into the crowd, but I can’t stop myself. Her black gown hugs her curves, and the new hair color adds a wow factor to a woman who already oozes with so much wow. And if I was the bartender, the full breasts she put on display would have won my attention too.
I smile into my wine glass and a warmth spreads through my stomach that has nothing to do with the wine splashing down into it.
Jenn agreed to dinner. Just dinner.
We’ll see.
Comparing Notes
“You and Sasha, that was strange,” Henry says as we wait for the valet to drive his Mercedes up. “You two kiss and make up?”
“What do you mean?” My heart free falls to my feet.
“Just seeing the two of you talking after your little scene in the hall was strange. Almost made it seem like old times, when you two were buddy-buddy,” he says. “Ever since the breakup, you’ve done nothing but despise the girl.”
“Of course, I did. She hurt you.” The car pulls up, and I don’t wait for Henry to open the door for me. I grab the handle and jump inside. He walks to the driver side, where, once he’s seated, I’m waiting with a new topic. “The shrimp were crazy big. Did you have any?”
“I didn’t.” He buckles his seat belt before pulling out. “It’s just you were so angry tonight after finding out she was going to be taking on the project at Faulkner that I was quite surprised to see the two of you talking, in what appeared to be a civil conversation. What were you talking about?”
Fuck.
Fuck.
“Regular stuff,” I say quick, reaching back to start unpinning my twisted hair.
“Did she mention any design plans? I wish I’d known about this sooner. Because I like the idea of bamboo.”
“Nope. No plans.” I toss a few bobby pins into his cup holder. “Did you know that Stephen Collins and his wife are having another baby? And your new assistant, Will, told me that your old assistant, Marge, left because of a botched boob job. Hello. Crazy. She’s like sixty.” I cross my fingers and wait.
“Marge? Really?” he says. That gets his attention. Thank God.
“Yeah, she had it done in another country trying to save money and that did not work out for her.” I do the same wonky hand motion over my chest that Will had done when telling me the story.
“Hmm. You think you know someone.” Henry shrugs, making a right turn onto his block. His comment makes me tense up. If he only knew.
My car is parked on the road in front of his house. As it comes into view, I am already plotting for a quick exit.
“Sasha looked good, didn’t she?” he says, pulling into his driveway. I don’t say anything, pulling my hair over my face so he can’t see how just him saying her name changes my expression. “Sorry. It was just weird seeing her tonight. I haven’t thought about her in so long and then to see her like that, at a work function, all dressed up, it threw me off.”
“Threw you off like good or bad?” Did seeing her again have the same effect on him that it did me? Because seeing her again has most definitely affected me. “What about Tina?”
“No, it was nothing like that. It was just seeing her again, it was….” He pauses. “Unexpected. That’s all.”
“Mm-hmm.” I hate this. My brother and I are both shaken up from seeing the same girl tonight. Maybe I can get us on Springer.
Jerry. Jerry. Jerry.
“It’s definitely going to be an adjustment seeing her in the office.” He chuckles and runs an uneasy hand through his hair. “Do you think Tina will be bothered by it?”
“Does she need to be?” I hold my breath.
“Of course not. Not at all,” he says vehemently. “I’m in love with Tina. You can’t even compare what I have with her to what Sasha and I had. One’s fire, the other ice.”
“Ice?” I repeat. I don’t mean to say it out loud, the word just kinda slips out.
“Sorry. Never mind.” He shakes his head. “So the shrimp were big. Sorry I missed that.” Now he’s the one changing the subject. That’s fine with me.
“Yeah, well if you want one, I have like forty of them in my purse.”
“Jenn, please tell me you’re joking.” Even in the dark car I see his face pale.
“Of course, I’m joking.” The laughter rolls up from my belly. He’s so gullible.
My laughter quickly fades as thoughts of me and Sasha whoosh in.
He’s so gullible.
Just Dinner
“Another glass of wine?” the waiter asks.
I’ve been waiting for over a half an hour. Jenn picked the date, time, and place, a restaurant forty-five minutes away, and now it’s just a waiting game to see if she’ll actually show up.
“I’m good, thank you,” I say, and his lips turn into pity formation.
I know what this looks like. That I’ve been stood up. And it’s definitely a possibility. But then purple hair that now has turquoise edges flails around her pale, round face, and she takes the seat across from me.
> She’s in jeans and a casual blouse, unbuttoned enough for me see that her bra is bright pink and lacy. A bronzy eyeliner highlights all the flecks of gold in her pretty hazel eyes. She grabs a napkin off the table and spits a piece of gum into it before her shiny lips return to their normal plump pout. Everything about Jenn is so amazingly different from the polished sibling I was once linked to.
“I wasn’t sure you were coming,” I say.
The waiter opens a menu and hands it to her.
“I wasn’t sure myself,” she says from behind the menu.
“Something from the bar?”
Jenn lowers her menu and meets my stare. Her eyes roam over my hair, my face, and land on my lips. She tears her gaze away and smiles up at the waiter.
“I better not,” she says.
“I meant to tell you the other night, I love your hair. And now the added color, it’s so pretty. Did you do it yourself?” I say, but she holds a hand up and shuts me down.
“No. This is not... just. No. We’re not here to make small talk about my hair. We’re here to finish our conversation, so let’s finish it.” She places her menu off to the side and folds her hands together, resting them on the table. “You said you were going to tell Henry about your feelings, ‘but.’ Finish telling me. What was the but? What kept you from telling my brother the truth? Or the truth as you believed it?”
She acts as if she’s only here to talk business. Finish our discussion and no other reason. But I can see her heart on her sleeve, exposed and vulnerable, pumping away.
“But then I met his gorgeous, open, comfortable in her own skin sister.” The game changer. The truth about who I was became more and more clear every time I saw her. “I was playing with fire. Dating one sibling while falling for another. I knew I had to end things with Henry.”
“Oh, so is that what you meant when you said, the breakup was all ‘my fault?’” She shifts, sitting taller in her seat.
Whiskey Flick Page 3
