by Nana Malone
“God, working with your ex like that… It must suck,” Freddie said as she set the shaker in the bin of dirty dishes and glasses waiting for one of the busboys to take it to the kitchen. A clean bin sat on her other side, waiting for her to restock the bar.
“It is surprising how little time we actually spent together, considering we work at the same place. But then that was one of the things he’d been complaining about, so…”
“Well, good luck on your roommate search. If I hear anyone asking around I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks, Freddie.” Sasha scurried off to deliver the drinks to her table.
She spotted her graduate advisor over at the far end of the bar. Dr. Gibbons caught her eye and indicated she wished to speak with Sasha. So at the first chance she got, she sidled up to the older woman’s seat, positioning herself so she could keep an eye on the tables in her section.
“Sasha,” Dr. Gibbons greeted her warmly. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight.”
“I picked up an extra shift when one of the other servers called in sick,” she explained. She’d put in a request with her manager to get called first whenever something like that happened so she could make as much extra money as possible. It was making things difficult at her internship, but hopefully she would find a roommate and she could go back to the schedule she kept before Ryan moved out.
“Well, it must be fate, because I just have to tell you that I finished going over your proposal, and I love it. The sports angle is a great one for exploring something that’s relevant across the board. It’s a subject that ties in beautifully to our culture at large. Always pushing to succeed, to win, to get to the top, secure the American Dream and all that, but do we push too hard? Should we be preparing people for failure? Or does acknowledging the fact that we could fail hinder us? So many wonderful questions and I can’t wait to see what you discover.”
“So I’m good to go ahead and get started on it?”
“Absolutely,” Dr. Gibbons assured her after taking a sip of her wine. “You’ve really taken the initiative on this. I don’t usually get proposals until the week of the deadline, and then I have to ride students to meet the later deadlines. You’re definitely ahead of the game, making my life easier, and yours, too, if you want to know.”
At that moment, Fox walked into the restaurant with several of his friends, and Sasha doubted the wisdom of Dr. Gibbons’ words as guilt tied her stomach into knots. She shook herself out of it. Just because Ida wanted her to use Fox, it didn’t mean she was going to. This was fine. Everything would work out.
“Thanks, Dr. Gibbons,” Sasha said as she moved away from her advisor. “I’ve gotta get back to work.”
Sarah, one of the other waitresses, led Fox and his friends into one of the three rooms the restaurant set aside for private parties. She and Sarah shared that section. Which meant they’d be sharing the serving duties and splitting the tips when it was over. Sasha wasn’t sure whether it was good thing or a bad thing. She and Fox hadn’t seen each other since the night he stayed on her couch. She got the distinct impression he was embarrassed. And God knew she was embarrassed about the way she’d been salivating over him. It was an aberration. They’d get back to normal eventually. She hoped.
Fox had put it off as long as he could, but he knew his friends would talk if he didn’t do something to help them celebrate. He couldn’t sulk forever, right? Besides, he was the partier. The partner. The fun one. He could pretend for them. He’d planned it all so he could also shuffle some cash Sasha’s way.
It wasn’t as though she would take money from him as a loan, and she hadn’t said anything more about his offer to move in with her. Though given the massive hard-on he’d woken up with the morning after he’d stayed over, that was probably for the best. She’d just broken up with her boyfriend. And if he went there with her, that would ruin everything.
He ordered the first bottle of champagne, nodding a greeting to Sasha when she came into the room with place settings. She gave him a wry smile in return. Once the initial round of toasts was over, things went downhill quick. Dougie and Gerry had split a bottle of rum, while Martin was doing a number on a bottle of whiskey. Fox was relieved he’d sprung for the private room, afraid the restaurant’s management might not let him and his friends come back again if they had been seated in the general area, considering the drunken racket.
“Don’t worry, buddy,” Gerry slurred as he devoured a plate of bruschetta topped with mango and avocado salsa. “Your turn’ll come. The guy we’ve got now…” he snapped his fingers a few times “…Brodie…Brewdie…Brewer.” He blinked but couldn’t force his tongue to pronounce the name correctly.
“I know who you mean,” Fox muttered. Now he was sure this had been a bad idea.
“Right. Anyhoo. He’s old, right? So he’ll be retiring before you know it. So they’ll be putting this new guy, Henri, into the main spot, and they’ll need you then,” Gerry explained the matter like it was a simple equation. “You just gotta sit tight and hang in there.”
Fox forced a smile and nodded to feign his reassured state. It was enough for Gerry, drunk as he was, to believe he’d genuinely helped. Gerry took another swig of rum, half of which missed his mouth and trailed down the side of his neck and into the collar of his shirt.
Sasha walked through to check on them, and Fox caught her rolling her eyes at the mess his friends had made. Before she headed out, she caught his eye and he did his best to shrug an apology, but she didn’t seem to be in a joking mood. He’d had a glass of champagne during the toasting, but had switched to water after that. He’d already had more than enough to drink after the tryouts.
“D’you know her?” Martin asked after Sasha had left the room.
“Sasha? Yeah. I’ve known her pretty much my whole life. Our grandfathers played football together,” Fox explained. His gaze trailed after Sasha, and for some reason, he couldn’t drag it away.
“D’you think you could put in a good word for me?” Martin asked.
Fox clenched his jaw. He wanted to tell Martin to fuck off and leave her alone. She’s mine. What the hell was wrong with him? He had no idea where that shit came from. He couldn’t keep thinking about her stroking…or even better, licking, his…ego. “You want to ask her out, that’s on you. I’m not getting involved,” Fox said carefully. “I will tell you that she just broke up with her boyfriend, and she’s not really looking for something right now.”
“Great. That means she’s down to ride.”
Fox narrowed his gaze when he realized his little bit of information had only made Martin more interested in Sasha.
“And that’s cool, ’cause I’m not looking for more than a ride,” Martin continued. “You know how it is, Coulter. Hit it and quit it. And that girl, she looks fun. All that sexy dark hair. Her tits on display. That tight ass?” Martin bit his knuckle, then laughed and nudged Dougie, who chortled and snorted as he raised another shot’s worth of rum to his lips.
“Yeah that’s…not what I meant at all,” Fox muttered between clenched teeth. Martin rose from the table and threw back a bit more whiskey before marching off in the direction Sasha had just gone. He wasn’t gone long.
“Bitch told me to fuck off,” Martin complained, sitting down again. “You’ve got some shitty friends there, Fox.”
“Don’t I know it,” he said, heading to find Sasha so he could apologize for Martin’s undoubtedly inappropriate behavior.
He spotted her leaning against the bar with her tray on the bar top. She had her arms crossed and was leaning her head against her forearms. She looked exhausted, and he had a moment of panic where he thought she might be crying.
When the bartender came over with the drinks she was waiting for, she slipped a little shot of something to Sasha, who thanked her friend and downed it in a single gulp.
“Fortifying yourself to come back and glare at me some more?” he asked as he sidled up to her. She jumped.
“Fox�
�� What the hell are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be in the room, supervising those apes you call friends?” She turned away from him to adjust the drinks on the tray and wipe a hair out of her eyes. No, it wasn’t a stray hair. It was a tear.
“He’s a dead man,” Fox muttered under his breath.
“Please. Your friend is nothing I can’t handle,” Sasha assured him, but there was a thickness in her voice that he picked up on immediately. “He… I’ve dealt with way worse customers. He wasn’t even the grabbiest. And he’s not the first I’ve had to turn down as far as hitting on me goes.”
“You shouldn’t have to deal with it at all,” Fox groaned. “You’re just doing your job, and he’s had way too much to drink—which is entirely my fault—and now… I’ll… I’ll—”
“You’ll do nothing because I’m fine. I’ll get over it. It’s just been a long day already, and things are riding much closer to the surface than I usually keep them,” she confessed. “He…he didn’t know what he was saying—or doing—and… He called me a sweet piece of ass, and said I should…I should quit working in the restaurant, because I’d make a killing working behind the restaurant.” There was shame in her voice, as she whispered the last part to Fox.
Fox closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. “Do you want me to hold him so you can hit him? ’Cause I’ll do that. Trust me, it can really help to just hit something once in a while.”
Sasha laughed. “Thanks for the offer. I’ll be sure to keep it in mind. It could’ve been worse. He could have tried putting his hand up my skirt instead of just on my ass, but I don’t think he had the coordination for that tonight.”
“Forget me holding him. I’ll tie him to a tree and we can both hit him.”
Sasha sighed. “I’m just tired. It’s exhausting. All I am is a face, an ass, and a pair of boobs. I mean…my father always told me to capitalize on my looks while I could—to find some rich guy to marry, and then pop out a few kids for him, and I’d never have to worry about money or anything like that again. It was humiliating then and now… Now it’s just…” She was dangerously close to tears.
Fox wanted to pull her into a hug, but he also knew that was probably the worst thing to do to Sasha at a moment like that. She never cried. Except when she was ready to blow.
“You’d think I’d be used to all of the ways that men know how to insult a girl—that I’d be able to…distance myself from it better. But…every once in a while…something just…makes it through. What if…what if I really am nothing more than just a pretty face and a piece of ass? I want to work on camera. If I get that chance, is it because of my talent and the work I put into researching and writing my stories, or would it just be because I look good on-screen and can read words off a monitor without it looking like I’m reading directly off the monitor?”
Fox laughed. She was spinning out.
“It’s not funny,” Sasha cried. But there was a little twitch to her mouth that suggested she had run out of steam.
“Sure it is. After all this time, if you don’t know just how smart you are, then you’re dumb. You’ve been running circles around me academically since…since you learned the alphabet before I did when we were three.”
She laughed some more. “Woohoo, I’m smarter than you. I am a woman after all.” She teased, a small smile tugging at her lips.
“Ouch. I will have you know that I am brilliant, if only because I can see just how brilliant you are. Wasn’t there some famous dead old guy who said something about the wise man knowing that he doesn’t know everything?”
“You’re paraphrasing, but yeah, Socrates said something along those lines.”
“Look, I’m sorry about Martin. He’s an asshole.”
“I noticed.”
“And if he has a shred of decency, he’ll be too ashamed of himself in the morning to ever even consider speaking to you again. So let me apologize on his behalf. And I’m going to make sure you get home all right tonight. Okay?” He would be dealing with Martin, but he wouldn’t tell her that.
Sasha nodded to someone behind Fox, and lifted her tray of drinks. “You don’t have to do that.”
“No, I do. We look after each other, remember?”
“I guess we do.”
Fox watched her paste a smile on her face as she chatted with her customers. He wasn’t sure how she managed to do it, but she deserved so much better than this crappy waitressing job to make ends meet. And he was going to help her. He just needed to figure out how.
When he returned to the party room, he motioned over to Martin and took his bottle. “You’re done with this,” he explained. Then he moved over to Dougie and Gerry and took their nearly-empty bottle of rum.
“What’d that bitch say? I just asked her out,” Martin protested.
The tether on Fox's self-control snapped, and he crowded his friend. “That ‘bitch’ is my fucking friend, so you need to shut your fucking trap or I'll do it for you.”
Martin wasn’t so drunk that his brain didn’t recognize the danger. He glowered at Fox, but he backed down. Fox's demonstration had quieted Dougie and Gerry as well, turning the loud and raucous celebration into a silent and awkward mess.
Sasha and Sarah came in to see if there was anything more they needed. But when all four of them announced they were finished, Fox asked for the check. Sasha caught Fox’s eye and raised an inquisitive brow, but he just turned his attention to Martin to be sure he didn’t try to pull anything. Fox had been pissed he hadn’t made the team, but now he wondered if he wasn’t lucky.
Once he paid the check, he muttered, “I already called you guys an Uber. You can go ahead without me. I have a few things I need to take care of, but I’ll talk to you sometime soon.” Yeah, like never. Fox suddenly realized that without the team, they didn’t have much in common.
When she finished her shift, Sasha found Fox waiting for her down in the restaurant’s parking lot.
“What’re you still doing here? You guys left three hours ago.”
“I told you I’d make sure you got home all right,” he reminded her. “The others left, but I hung out at the sports bar next door for a while. They had the preseason football games on, so I watched Dax’s team. He and the other starters were pulled after the first quarter.”
Sasha shook her head. “That’s fine, whatever. The tip you left for Sarah and me, it was too much for a party of four, even if you were in a private room.”
Fox shifted awkwardly. “Oh…well, I know that you’re…you know—with the whole Ryan thing.” He shrugged. “Besides, look at it as hazard pay for dealing with Martin.”
“I have my own car here,” Sasha pointed out. “I don’t really need a ride.”
He grinned. “Good, because I don’t have my car with me. I was supposed to be designated driver when we took Dougie’s car, but after what happened with Martin, I called them an Uber and told them to come back and get Dougie’s car in the morning.”
“So you need a ride,” Sasha laughed and shook her head.
“I could Uber. I just wanted to get you home.”
“No,” she said, still laughing. “I’ll drive you home.”
“Please don’t,” Fox begged as he climbed into the passenger seat of Sasha’s four-door sedan. “My parents will ask how tonight went with the guys, and I don't want to get into it.”
“Right.”
“Or they’ll want to talk about Dax’s game tonight. Which I know they don’t mean to make it sound like a dig, but that’s what it will feel like anyway.”
“You want to crash on my couch again?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t have to crash if you let me move in.”
“I should start charging you rent,” she joked.
“Wasn’t that what I offered, like, two weeks ago? Are you reconsidering? I promise it doesn’t have to be long term.” He sat up straighter, more enthusiastic. “It can just be until you find someone else—a month or two. As soon as you get so much as a nibble, I can grab
my stuff and get out.”
Sasha sighed. He really was very cute. She hadn’t meant to reopen that can of worms, but she was too tired. She was still confused about how she felt about the prospect. You’re not confused. You know how you feel about it. Hot.
They got along well, but would that change when they had to share things like a bathroom and a kitchen? They had crashed with each other plenty over the years, but it was always a situation where one of them was the host and the other the guest. If they lived together and things were truly shared… Or you saw him naked.
The thing was, she knew him. And Fox was a flirt. And you’ve lusted after him for years. But he didn’t know that. And she wanted to keep it that way. But she also needed the help. Matter of fact, she was desperate.
“Fine. Three months at the most. And only because I really need the money right now. Once I have something else figured out, then you go. Back to your parent’s or into a place of your own, I don’t care. And I’ll be coming up with a roommate list of rules and guidelines, got it? First on the list—no walking around naked.”
“Until you beg.” He winked. “Sure, sure. You’re the boss,” Fox said, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender, but when he turned to look out the window he was grinning. Sasha tried and failed to tamp down the twitching impulse to smile as well.
Six
Sasha had a day off two days later to help officially move in Fox and his stuff. There wasn’t much extra space in the apartment, but while he’d been at his parents’ house throwing what he considered the essentials into duffel bags and plastic bins, she’d made a run to the store and had picked up a few things he’d probably need. He’d never been on his own before. The dude knew nothing about having his own place.
“What…is…that?” he pointed after depositing some of his stuff in the hallway just outside his new room.
“Just a few essentials,” Sasha said with a smile. “Mirror, some organizational stuff for your closet…” She flicked the switch to an aqua-colored lava lamp, and the thick orbs began to separate out and circle each other. “Mood lighting,” she teased. “Okay, that one is actually from my parents’ house. I don’t want you to feel like living here is going to…cramp your style or…hinder your, uh, social life with the ladies.” She waggled her eyebrows while shuffling around and humming “I can’t get no, satisfaction”.
