Ready or Not

by Melissa Brayden

  Hope widened her eyes in appreciation. “Bar-owner stuff sounds so official. I like it. You should name more things in our society.”

  “You know what I mean,” Mallory said, pushing at Hope playfully. “Well, anyway, we’re having celebratory drinks out here. Brooklyn found a wedding dress. And I just…I don’t know, wanted to say hi. So…hi. But I’ll let you get back to work.” For reasons Hope couldn’t quite fathom, Mallory seemed nervous, which was so unexpected it was adorable, causing Hope’s stomach to ignite in butterflies of her own.

  Hope took her hand and pulled Mallory into the office. “You should say hi in here though, I’m thinking.”

  Mallory’s eyes danced, but she allowed herself to be pulled inside the small office. Hope closed the door, placed her back against it, and drew Mallory to her, wrapping an arm around the back of her waist. “So, hi.”

  “Hi,” Mallory said back, smiling. “Your hair’s in a ponytail today.”

  Hope glanced upward at the mention. “In fact, it is.” Her focus dropped to Mallory’s mouth. It sported a shiny kind of lip gloss, which she desperately wanted to taste. As she moved in, Mallory’s words stopped her.

  “I like it when you wear it in a ponytail. Adds a soft / tough dynamic.”

  “Yeah?” Hope asked, not letting the comment deter her, as her lips had almost been on Mallory’s. She braced for the kiss, basking in the warmth of Mallory’s proximity, anticipating the tingles before they could arrive. Her lips parted slightly as their mouths inched together.

  “I mean, it’s a great look.”

  Defeat. Hope leaned back against the wall, her body thrumming. “You’re killing me right now.” And the thing was, Mallory seemed to be enjoying it. She placed her hands on either side of Hope’s hips as a starting place and eased her thumbs up Hope’s body to the top of her rib cage, falling just short of her breasts. Hope hitched in a breath, very aware that Mallory held all the cards today and seemed to want it that way.

  “So in closing, I vote yes on the ponytail.” And it was the last thing she said before she crushed her lips to Hope’s in a scorching kiss that chased every thought from Hope’s head, except that this woman was intoxicating. And fiery. And smart. And gorgeous. As Mallory’s lips parted against hers, Hope pushed her tongue into Mallory’s mouth and was greeted with a quiet murmur of approval. “I love the way you kiss,” Mallory said, pulling her mouth from Hope’s.

  “Back atcha,” Hope murmured.

  Mallory loved the high she got from moments like these with Hope. The ones where she knew what she wanted and took it. Hope’s lips were amazing and her tongue was a wondrous thing, she thought distantly as they sank further into each other. She reveled in the warmth of the kiss and let her body, now pressed firmly against Hope’s, luxuriate in the sensation that caused. “We have a wild amount of chemistry,” she managed when they came up for air.

  “I’d have to agree,” Hope said, moving her hand to her forehead in recovery mode.

  “It’s kind of staggering.”

  Hope ran her thumb across Mallory’s bottom lip. “I’m sorry. Did you say something?” She stole another kiss.

  Mallory laughed. “You’re so different than I thought you’d be, and I’m rarely wrong about people.”

  “Yeah, well, not everyone is what they seem.”

  “So I’m learning,” Mallory said, nodding. “Speaking of people being different, I think I know that new waitress you hired. She looked familiar the other day, but tonight I finally made the connection. Her name is Sophie, right?”

  “Yeah, it is. How do you know her?”

  “Our parents are friends.”

  Hope seemed surprised. “So does that mean she’s from fancy money like you?”

  Mallory nodded. “Big-time. Her family owns half of Seventy-first Street. Real-estate tycoons. That’s why I was surprised to see her waiting tables. Not that it’s a bad thing,” she said, rushing to cover what might sound like judgment.

  “It is a little odd,” Hope said. “But I suppose everyone has their reasons.”

  “That they do. And before I pull you away from your job any more than I already have, I’ll rejoin my friends.” Hope stepped away from the door and allowed Mallory to pass. “But we’re still on for cocktails with the Big Top guys tomorrow?”

  “We are. I’ve already decided on a cocktail.”

  “You have?” Mallory raised an eyebrow. “Want to share what it is?”

  “No, I do not, Park Avenue. You’ll have to wait and be surprised with everyone else.” Mallory passed Hope an overly sorrowful look, which inspired a laugh. “Don’t look at me like that. I have a weakness for you, and you know it.”

  Mallory smiled triumphantly and wrapped her arms around Hope’s waist, intertwining her fingers at the back. “I didn’t, but I do now. I’d like to hear more about this weakness.”

  “No way. Have to keep the mystery alive. It’s part of my allure.”

  “Maybe it would be even more alluring for me to solve that mystery.” As she said it, Mallory trailed her index finger down the front of Hope’s shirt, purposefully between her breasts. She was shocked at her own audacity, but then not entirely, as she’d always been a go-getter. Plus, Hope just had this effect on her like no one else. At the touch, Hope’s eyes widened and darkened, now heavy-lidded with overt desire. Hot was too mundane a word for the visual, and Mallory now wanted her hands other places.

  Hope gave her head a little shake, rebounding. “I think we need to get together again. Soon.”

  “You do, huh?”

  “Go out with me Friday night. We can go to dinner.” She held her hands up in defense. “A real restaurant this time. If you’re free, that is.”

  Mallory hesitated. That was the night of her parents’ anniversary party. While she loved her parents, the very formal societal gathering felt more like a duty than a celebration of their marriage. Just then she had a thought. “How do you feel about uptight parties?”

  Hope stared at her and raised a shoulder. “I find them mildly amusing. Fantastic place for people-watching and getting to say things like, ‘but of course.’ And who doesn’t love to say that?”

  “I struggle with it, personally, but might enjoy hearing you say it. Would you like to accompany me to one on Friday? It will be unoriginal and stuffy, but you might get to use your phrase.” It was out there now, and Mallory was already wondering if this was a great idea or the worst one ever. Who takes a date to a family anniversary party, and what kind of message would that send Hope about what was going on between them?

  Not that she even knew herself.

  What she was confident of, however, was that it would be fun to have someone to pass the time with, and Hope was definitely fun. She was also easygoing. And sexy. A big part of it was the sexy—who was she kidding?

  “Well, I’ll need a formal gown, and probably white gloves, some mice, and a chauffeur. Luckily, I’m resourceful.”

  “Skip the gloves and chauffer, and mice creep me out, but maybe a nice outfit. You can choose of what variety.” She wasn’t sure Hope was the dress-wearing sort, so she left that door open.

  “Who will be there?” Hope asked.

  “My parents. It’s their thirty-seventh anniversary party.” At Hope’s quizzical expression, Mallory waved a hand. “Don’t ask. It’s what they do, throw parties. My siblings will also be there, four of the five. As well as various nieces and nephews, family friends, and society button-ups who are about as interesting as a turtle napping.”

  “Turtles are cute,” Hope offered.

  “Yeah, well, some of these people aren’t.”

  Hope’s eyes flashed amusement. “So it’s a date?”

  What was it about that word that had Mallory breathing a little erratically? She and Hope seemed to have no problem making out at the drop of a hat, flirting incessantly, but the concept of dating felt so much more…terrifying, and she had no idea why. She shook off the near panic and faced Hope. “It’s a dat
e. Now get back to work and pretend I never interrupted you.”

  Hope shook her head. “You realize that’s impossible, right?”

  “I’m sure you’ll manage.” She offered Hope’s hand a little squeeze.

  And with that, Mallory rejoined her friends with little bursts of anxiety dancing in her vision at a situation she didn’t quite know how to maneuver. It was out of character, her behavior of late. Kissing in offices, rampant daydreams at work, and now she was taking the woman who inspired that reckless behavior to meet her parents? Had she lost her mind? It felt a little that way.

  “Another cocktail, please,” she said to the waitress as she took her seat.

  Hunter turned to her. “Mallory Spencer is having a second cocktail on a weekday? What have you done with the real Mallory?”

  She turned to Hunter. “Now isn’t that a good question?”

  *

  Hope surveyed her rather stark apartment with new eyes when she arrived home that night. Not much on the walls. Blinds, but no drapes. No specific color scheme to speak of. Sad reality: her place was boring. While true, she wasn’t home a lot, she should still do more to make it hers, she thought, and reflected on Mallory’s put-together loft space. Maybe some light-green curtains and matching throw pillows for the couch would give the room a little pop of color.

  She would definitely look into that and smiled a little at the thought.

  She made herself a late-night dinner and turned on the news. There was no sign of Kara at the apartment, but that made sense as she worked the night shift at the diner. Her plans were to stay with Hope for another week or so and then move in with one of the girls she worked with.

  Hope checked her phone for the five-hundredth time that day, but she’d yet to have one of her messages returned from her sister, which in actuality wasn’t all that unusual. However, she was anxious to hear how the payoff had gone with Dominic and, honestly, more than a little nervous about it.

  She thought back to earlier that morning when she’d handed her sister a manila envelope full of cash. Her cash that she’d withdrawn from the bank the day prior, counted out into what she hoped would be enough to satisfy this loser.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Kara asked from the doorway of her office.

  Hope nodded. “Just remember to play nice and part ways on good terms if at all possible, but the parting-ways part is key.”

  Kara offered a half smile. “No holding on to ties with known criminals. Got it.”

  They stared at each other and Hope understood that it was gratitude she saw in her sister’s eyes and it tugged at her. “You would do it for me, right?”

  Kara nodded solemnly. “I would.” With that, Hope pulled her sister into a hug and held her for several long moments. “I love you.”

  “I love you too,” Kara said as she released her. “And I’m not gonna let you down.”

  But fourteen hours later, as crime report after crime report crawled its way across her TV screen, her heart clenched with trepidation. Her mind took off imagining all the things that could have gone wrong. In an attempt to calm herself, she took a fortifying breath and reminded herself of her purpose.

  To get Kara on track to an easier life.

  Today was a step in that direction.

  Sure, she had everything riding on it and so did Kara, but they’d get through this, just like they’d gotten through everything else. She’d hear from Kara soon. Hell, she’d probably find her peacefully asleep on the couch when she woke up the next morning.

  But as she slipped beneath the covers that night, her mind raced. She closed her eyes and attempted to shut out the world, to push past thoughts of money and drug dealers and even her business.

  However, she knew of one distraction sure to take her mind away from all that, and she clung to it in her last lingering moments of consciousness.

  Mallory Spencer.

  She smiled at the memory of how Mallory had teased her in the office that day, or at the visual of Mallory delicately eating the delicious nachos in her apartment the week prior. She focused on the date, the real date, which lay ahead of them, and little by little, the stress of the day slid off her.

  Mallory Spencer was a bright spot, she thought to herself, in a time when she could use a bright spot.

  *

  When Mallory arrived at Showplace at fifteen minutes to five that Thursday, she paused in the entryway, surprised at what she saw. Timmy, Robby, and Freddy from Big Top were already there. She double-checked her watch and confirmed she was early as planned. Brooklyn, Samantha, and Hunter would be joining her shortly, but she wanted to check in with Hope and make sure she was ready for all of them.

  Damn it, the boys had just beaten her here.

  Not a problem, she thought, rising to the occasion. As she made her way farther into the bar, she took in the good news. They were laughing at something a beautiful blonde had said to them. Hope.

  “Well, look who’s here,” Timmy said as all three men promptly stood upon her arrival.

  “Hello, hello,” Mallory said, offering her hand and receiving a trio of high-fives instead. Her fault. She totally should have seen that coming. “I see you’ve met Hope, the owner of Showplace.”

  “We have,” Robby said enthusiastically. “She shares my preoccupation with Scotch and has supplied me with a rare twelve-year that’s stolen my heart.” Bonus points for Hope.

  “Excellent. My colleagues from Savvy will be joining us shortly.” The boys, correction, men nodded enthusiastically.

  “This is a killer place,” Timmy said, taking in the high ceilings and eclectic décor. “I had no idea it was even here.”

  Mallory nodded. “One of the reasons I wanted you guys to experience it. It draws a big lesbian crowd, but Hope is interested in making Showplace the go-to establishment for craft cocktails, and that means broadening its horizons a bit as well as the clientele.”

  Robby raised his glass and marveled at the Scotch. “She knows her stuff. That’s for sure.”

  Timmy leaned forward, an earnestness on his face. “I kinda love the LGBT aspect of your company.”

  Mallory nodded and smiled but wasn’t able to hold back the raising of her eyebrows, because that comment could be taken in a number of different ways. She hadn’t discussed the personal lives of anyone at Savvy with him, but a little research went a long way. Timmy backpedaled. “That sounded bad. What I mean is that Big Top is a brand that’s about everyone, and a diverse company such as yours would get that angle.”

  See, that right there, she liked, because it was true. Savvy did bring a unique touch. “I think you’ll find that Savvy sees a lot of different angles. The work you’re doing at Big Top is changing the ways people go to the movies. We love that and want to help.”

  “Plus, she loves Terminator,” Freddy pointed out.

  “Well, who doesn’t,” Brooklyn said from behind her. “It’s a cyberpunk classic with excellent pacing. Hi, by the way, I’m Brooklyn.” Aha, her friends were here. The men stared at Brooklyn in captivation and then leapt instantly to their feet.

  “Additionally,” Hunter added, “Terminator brought the narrative storyline back to the action-movie franchise.”

  “Yes!” Timmy said wholeheartedly. “That’s true.”

  “Hi, I’m Hunter. Graphic artist extraordinaire.” High-fives all around.

  Samantha raised her hand, joining in on the exchange. “The film has inspired a whole string of action flicks, much the way 2001: A Space Odyssey did for sci-fi films.”

  “I love that movie. And you are?” Robby said.

  “Samantha. Pleased to meet you.” High-fives all around for Sam.

  So far things were off to a great start. Her friends slid into the high-backed booth that Hope had set aside for them just in time for Teddy to arrive with a tray of picturesque-looking beverages. Hope was right behind him, and as the drinks were served, Hope began to speak.

  “Prepared for your enjoyment today and compli
mentary for your visit, I’ve mixed you each a Gingersnap Smash. I’ve been a long-standing fan of Root, which can best be described as a dark and spicy spirit. It harkens back to an old remedy from the 1700s called ‘Root Tea.’ In its non-alcoholic form, you probably know it best as root beer. When I heard a company out there was making a variation called SNAP, I knew I had to check it out and attended their launch party a couple of months back. Essentially, SNAP is a gingersnap organic spirit made from fresh ginger and blackstrap molasses. I was worried initially that it might be overwhelmingly sweet or, worse, the spiciness of the ginger would overpower everything else. But I was pleasantly surprised.”

  Mallory looked around the table and found the eyes of her tablemates glued to Hope in fascination. They were hanging on her every word. Mallory couldn’t blame them. She was enthralled herself.

  “Instead of either of those things,” Hope said, “the spirit was peppery, the way you might remember a gingersnap from childhood tasting. The finish was buttery and warm, unique, and a spirit that stands out against a lot of what you’ll find out there. The cocktail I’ve served you today is reminiscent of a standard whiskey smash. SNAP is the spirit, of course, but I took it upon myself to make my own ginger-infused simple syrup to mix, garnished with lemon juice and mint leaves and served in a temperature-controlled glass, not too hot and not too cold.”

  Just then Teddy reappeared with a tray of seven small plates from heaven. “To pair with the Gingersnap Smash, we have homemade Sicilian drop doughnuts, rolled in cinnamon sugar with a side of warm honey in the first ramekin and a pastry cream sauce in the second, for dipping or not, depending on your particular palate.”

  Without prompting, the table broke into applause for Hope, which Mallory wholeheartedly joined in on. The presentation of the cocktails, the explanation of ingredients, and the doughnuts-of-wonder had them beyond impressed.

  “Will you join us?” Timmy asked.

  Hope smiled. “While I’d love to, I have some things to attend to for tonight. We’re debuting the Gingersnap Smash as our June special, and I want to make sure everything is good to go. However, please enjoy, stay as long as you like. Teddy will be back to check in on you shortly.”