by Harper Bliss
I should be over the moon. I should be making plans to celebrate—discreetly of course, keeping Jeffrey’s health in mind. Surely he’ll need me to step in for a few months, rather than weeks. This stint as CEO, added to my 6 years of experience as COO, and my additional 15 years at this company, will make my market value balloon. I will get offers once Ali takes over—if she does. My future can be considered secure. Apart from that, I’ve never spent much of the money I’ve made. It’s all squirreled away in investments. I’m already rich. Even if the worst happened, and I got fired, I’d easily survive. I would only have to live with the dents in my ego and reputation.
But this whole thing with Ali gnaws at me and, instead of taking Linda and my team out for drinks, I just go home. On the evening after the day when I’ve been appointed CEO, I have nothing better to do than to sit in Los Angeles traffic, inhale the smog, honk at other drivers, and wonder what the hell I’m doing.
Because if I can’t celebrate this special occasion with anyone special, if I shoulder life’s burdens and joys all on my own, then what’s the fucking point? I can call my parents and I’m sure they’ll be proud, but they were already proud of me. I can watch CNBC tonight and see what’s being said about me, but that’s not my style.
Instead, I have to try to keep my mind off Ali, which is doubly hard, because, if last night hadn’t happened, she would be the one I’d be celebrating with. She’s the one I have further plans with. She’s the one who made it happen. She forced her father’s hand—in everyone’s best interest. An act befitting of a future CEO.
But I can’t call Ali. Instead, I was so distant with her, so harsh, first this morning in my apartment—which I’m beginning to dread returning to—and then in my office. And it was so hard. So the exact opposite of what I really wanted to do. But I had no choice. Of course someone like Ali believes there are always choices, but in this case, there really aren’t. The only other possible option is a secret affair, but that’s simply too risky. And then how will it end? A secret affair is not a future. It’s just a temporary giving-in to indulgence, and I think I’ve already done enough of that.
Traffic is completely blocked because of an accident—making me think of Leah, making me think of Ali—and I’m beginning to wonder if I’ll ever make it to my place tonight. Maybe sitting home alone isn’t what I need after all. I briefly consider Dolly’s, but I can’t face that. And what would another woman’s touch do, even if I get lucky? Erase Ali’s? As if that’s even possible.
Instead, I maneuver myself toward the exit ramp, earning myself numerous frustrated honks from other drivers and two screamed mentions of the word ‘bitch’. When I’m off the freeway, I pull over and google the address of Matriciana’s. It’s ultra-private there and the cocktails are divine.
When I hand the valet my car keys, I’m reminded that I let Ali drive away in her own car that night. She must have been over the limit. But is everything my responsibility now? After what happened to her sister, you’d think she’d be much more careful. I make my way to the basement and am faced with a closed door. The password. Damn. I consider leaving but why should only the likes of Ali be allowed inside this place? I knock and the door swings open.
“Password,” a very broad-shouldered guy says. Where’s man-bun when you need him?
“I don’t know the password, but I was here not long ago with Ali Lennox.” For crying out loud. If Ali knew I was using her name to get into this place, she’d surely use it against me until the end of our days.
“Is she here?”
“No, it’s just me.”
“Ali’s not coming?” the guy says, as if he knows her personally. Maybe he does.
“She’s not,” I confirm.
“I can’t let you in just because you know Ali Lennox. For all I know, you could be lying.” He squints at me.
“I swear to you, I was here with her…” I try to remember. “Two weeks ago? Three? Ask the server with his hair—”
“FaceTime her and I’ll let you in,” he says.
“What?”
“Call her and make sure I can see her.”
I roll my eyes. Why can’t he just let me in? It’s not as if there’s a long queue of people whose space I’d be taking up.
“Is that really necessary?”
“I’m afraid it is.” He looks at me triumphantly, as though he has me all sussed out—and someone like me wouldn’t know the likes of Ali Lennox at all. I consider asking if calling Sebastian Lennox would work, but I don’t want to argue with this guy anymore.
“I’m the new CEO of Lennox Breweries,” I try. It sounds so lame under the circumstances.
“Good for you.” He folds his arms in front of his chest, as if to say: you’re never getting past me, old lady.
Today of all days, I can’t let this hipster gorilla get the best of me. Getting inside this cocktail bar is about to become a point of personal pride. How dare he suggest I don’t know Ali Lennox—this time last night, I was in bed with her.
Through my building rage, I manage to call Ali. She picks up after two rings.
“Jill?” she asks.
“Hey, um…” Oh, Jesus. “Ali, sorry to disturb you. Can you switch on your camera real quick, please? Some guy who gets a kick out of denying middle-aged ladies entry to a bar needs confirmation that I know you.”
“What?” I can hear the smile in Ali’s voice.
“I’m at that cocktail bar we went to together, but they won’t let me in,” I whisper.
“Leave it with me. Give him your phone. I’ll abracadabra you inside in no time.”
Ali appears on my screen and I show it to the Neanderthal guarding the door as though this club is his most precious property and people like me should never be allowed in.
“This is Ali Lennox,” I hear her say. “Jill Gold is my boss and my friend. If you would be so kind to grant her entrance to your establishment, please.”
“Of course, Miss Lennox.” He opens the door wide and, suddenly, he’s all smiles; all the menace has left his demeanor. I’m so incensed, I just want to leave, but I can’t give him that satisfaction now.
“Thanks,” I say to Ali.
“Switch on your camera,” Ali says. “You owe me that.”
“For this? Come on. I just needed your name, Ali.”
“That might be so, but without it, you wouldn’t be sipping from the most delicious cocktail in town.”
With a sigh, I touch the camera icon.
“It’s only fair I can see you too.” She smiles at me. “What are you doing there?”
“I needed a drink. And that guy was being such an asshole.”
“It’s his job,” Ali says matter-of-factly. “Anyway, glad to be of service. Have one on me.”
“How’s your father?”
“Grumpy,” she says. “Being on the cusp of heart surgery is making him even more cranky than usual.”
“Tell him I’ll stop by the house tomorrow.”
“You’ll do no such thing, Jill. He needs to rest.”
“Okay.” This is not the time or place to argue with Ali. And she’s probably right. “Good night then.”
“Have fun, Jill. Don’t drink too much. No hangover in the office tomorrow.” She sends me one last pixelated smile, then hangs up.
29
Ali
Thirty minutes after Jill’s call, I’m standing in front of the guy I spoke to via FaceTime. He opens the door without me having to say anything.
“Is Jill Gold still here?” I ask.
He just nods and ushers me in. I’m a little nervous when I approach Jill’s booth, but how else could I interpret her call other than as an invitation? A convoluted one, but still very much an open invitation. Why else would she call me out of the blue like that?
“Hey.” I paint on my warmest smile.
“Ali?” The surprise in her glance makes me question my interpretation skills. “What are you doing here?”
I feel a bit on display, s
o I slide into the booth.
“You called me.”
“Well, yes, to get into this wretched place.”
I tilt my head. “This isn’t the only cocktail bar in L.A., you know.”
“I know.” She sighs. “It’s silly. That guy just really pushed the wrong button on the wrong day. I had forgotten about the stupid password and…” She rolls her eyes. “I’m sorry for the confusion. I can see how that might have happened. I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine.” I need to get over my disappointment quickly. “Now that I’m here, do you mind if I have a drink with you? Or would you prefer me to sit in another booth?” It sounds a little facetious, but still—she called me.
“Don’t be silly.” She pushes her empty cocktail glass away from her. “Of course, we can have a drink together.”
“How many of those have you had?”
She shrugs. “Enough to feel a whole lot better.” Her smile is a bit leery. “Enough to be genuinely happy that you’re here.”
I gesture for the server to stop by. It’s the same guy as last time. I order the same as Jill’s having, plus a large bottle of water and some snacks. She looks like she needs some food in her, pronto.
“Were you upset?” I ask once the server has gone. It’s a bit of a trip to sit here again with her. So much seems to have happened since we were last here. I feel very differently about Jill now that she has shown me the other side of her—the sexy, hot, screaming-when-she-comes side. I’ll never see her again the way I saw her that night we were first at this bar.
She pulls her lips into that typical Jill pout. “I was feeling sorry for myself. I don’t even know why I came here.”
“You became CEO today, Jill. You should be celebrating.”
She shrugs again. “That would feel like dancing on Jeffrey’s grave very prematurely. It’s all so… ambivalent. Of course, I’m happy that he trusted me to lead the company during his illness. But, well, you know.”
“Tell me.”
“Tell you what?” Her eyes are watery when she stares at me.
“Tell me what it is I’m supposed to know.”
“But you already know.”
“Jill.” I lean over the table and bring my face as close to hers as I can. She doesn’t flinch, but that could just be the alcohol slowing her down. “Talk to me.” I’ve seen you naked, I think. But you can see a person naked a dozen times and still not have really seen them.
“I did want to have a celebratory drink,” she says, sounding very clear suddenly. “With you. Only I couldn’t. Maybe that’s why I ended up here of all places. Because you brought me here and maybe I stupidly believed I could summon your spirit.” She scoffs, then regroups. “Ali, what we did last night… that doesn’t happen to me very often. Even though I know it was wrong and it was all just a consequence of the circumstances, but…” She falls silent again.
“But what?” I nudge her.
“But all I can think about…” She cuts her gaze to me again, her blue eyes a little dim, a little glazed over. “Is doing it again.”
My heart surges. My pulse picks up speed.
“Then why don’t you?”
“Because… you know why. I’m not going to repeat myself over and over again.”
The server comes over and presents us with our order. Jill goes straight for a cheese stick.
“I don’t have the answers here, but let me tell you this.” I hold up my cocktail. “I feel exactly the same way.”
She bursts into a chuckle, but she holds her glass aloft as well. “How can you?”
“Why would you even question that? We were both there last night. We both know exactly what it was like.”
“That may be so, but… whatever I represent to you at this time in your life, I realize it’s like that for a reason. I roped you into my plan on your first day back at head office. And we had… some moments, that we each interpreted in our own way. I won’t pretend to know you, Ali, but I can understand why you’d fool yourself into believing you want to be with me.”
“Fool myself?” It’s my turn to utter an incredulous chuckle. “Who do you take me for?”
“I take you for what I see that you are. Someone who came home to what’s left of her family—a family she’s not particularly close to—only to find her father in poor health, and her brother struggling too. You must also be flooded with the memories of your sister. It would make anyone a little… fragile.”
“Jesus Christ, Jill.” Alcohol seems to do funny things to her. She’s more open with me than she’s been before, but it’s not an analysis of myself I’m after. Especially not the cobbled-together, drunken one she has just given me. “Let me put it as plainly as I can.” I take a breath. “I like you. It’s as simple as that. I’ve liked you from day one. I kissed you twice, remember?”
“How am I supposed to take that seriously?”
“You took it very seriously last night.”
“That’s different. That was sex.”
“So? Are you trying to say that some of it was fake?”
“No… you’re not getting it. It’s not just that you’re Jeffrey’s daughter and Sebastian’s sister. You’re almost twenty years younger than me. You could have anyone you wanted.”
I hold up my hand to stop her. “Clearly not, because I want you.”
Finally, something akin to a smile appears on her face. “But why? Why me?”
“Because, Jill Gold,” I take a sip from my cocktail, “you’ve worked with my family for such a long time, yet you have this kindness in you. It took me by surprise that you would be so warm and thoughtful with me. The conversations we’ve had about Leah, however brief, I’ve never had with my father or with Sebastian. Granted, I did skip town, but I did so for a reason. Several reasons, in fact. To not constantly be reminded of Leah in this city where we spent so much time together, but also to get away from Dad and Sebastian. My brother may accuse me of running away, and that’s fine, because I did run away, and maybe that was cowardly, but I also did it because I didn’t feel like I had a choice.” I didn’t mean to go there again, but Jill seems to have that effect on me. More than anyone, by just being her, she’s helped me to move forward so much. If only I could put that into words for her—and show her how much that means to me. But it seems as though I don’t have the language for it yet. So I’m only left with the pulsing desire to lean in and kiss her again.
“I appreciate that, Ali,” she says. “But I don’t really know what to do with that.”
“Do I wish I’d met you under different circumstances?” I say. “Maybe, but—”
“But that’s just it,” Jill interrupts me. “Under different circumstances, you would never have looked at me twice.”
“You don’t know that. And life is made up of our circumstances. This is what we have. This is who life has made us.” I pull up my shoulders. “I will never be a woman who grew up with a mother. I will never be someone who grows old with her twin sister by her side. They’re gone. That’s done. And their deaths have become part of who I am.” I draw a deep breath to stop my voice shaking.
“Maybe, one day, I’ll get along better with Sebastian.” Now that the words have started, they won’t stop. “Maybe he’ll shed his cloak of douchebaggery someday. Or maybe I’ll find it in my heart to see him for who he truly is: just a boy who lost his mother, who can’t even remember her because he was only three years old when she died. He lost a sister as well. And he had to manage without a father because for Dad the brewery became everything. And even that I can understand, you know? In my better moments, I can understand them both, and I can only hope that they do the same of me.”
I shake my head. “Fuck, Jill. Can’t you see? This is what you do to me. I don’t talk this way to anyone else. To no one. Not even to Madison, because I left her as well. She built her own life while I was away, without me, and starting over with someone is always different than starting fresh.”
“You do love a speech,
Ali,” Jill says.
“Only with you. Something about you makes the words tumble right out of me.” I pour us both some much-needed water—for me, because my mouth is dry and for Jill, because as much as I like it when she’s tipsy and less uptight, at the end of this, I will want her closer to sober. “Now let me ask you a question. The same question, in fact… Why me?”
“W—why you?” Jill sips greedily from the water. “You kissed me. Twice.”
“I can’t accept that as an answer. Surely you don’t get involved with anyone who tries to kiss you?”
“I’m not sure I have an answer. I just have… all these feelings. I just… I want you so much. I didn’t allow myself to think about that. Not until you kissed me again last night. I can’t tell you why because I didn’t let myself think about that either. Doing that would be legitimizing what we did and I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”
“Of course it is.” I grow bolder again. “I think you should legitimize it as soon as possible, because, Jill, how on earth are we going to stop it happening again?” The smile on my lips is wide and audacious.
“That’s why,” Jill says. “That right there, what you just did, that’s why I want you so much. You’re so… I don’t know how to say it. You have this enormous lust for life and you just grab what you want. At first, it annoyed the hell out of me, but now I can’t help but admire it. After all that has happened to you, you’ve still managed to become this joyous, radiant person. I’m very drawn to that.”
My lips form into a smile. There’s only one thing I can think of right now. I want her again. I need her. The question is, how am I going to get her out of this bar? I don’t want to take advantage of her when she’s clearly tipsy. Then again, she’s certainly lucid enough to have a very revealing conversation with. And what she just said hasn’t only made my heart swell.
“Thank you for sharing that,” I say, while my mind races trying to come up with a plan.
