by Beth Michele
“He sounds like an asshole.”
Regret over my poor judgment makes me want to shrink into myself and I scoot down on the seat. “He came from a very affluent family and thought he was entitled to the world.”
This time, his tone carries more anger. “In other words, he was an asshole.”
“Pretty much.” I press my lips together, glad he doesn’t comment further on my misguided choice. “So what about you? Girlfriend?”
“Nope.” He places particular emphasis on the P as if my question amuses him.
“Why not?”
“I like my space and I like distance. Girls always want to ignore that. I’ve…,” he hesitates as if weighing his words carefully, “been with girls. But I don’t date.” I won’t bother asking him how many girls he’s been with—one look at him and I’m sure I know the answer to that—dozens.
My phone rings and I lean down to fish it out of my bag. I slide to unlock it and barely get a “hello” out before Avery’s voice booms in my ear. It’s so blaring, Vance looks over, eyes wide. “Where the hell are you? Do you realize no one has heard from you all day? Did it occur to you that I or someone else close to you might be worried? Troy said he left you two voicemails but you didn’t call him back, and that you were supposed to meet him for dinner. Did you forget?”
I flinch at the last question because I did forget and that’s not like me. “That’s four questions. Which one would you like me to answer first?”
“Quit being a smart-ass.” She huffs her frustration into my ear. “What’s gotten into you anyway?” Then her tone drops significantly. “Are you okay? I was worried.”
“Yes, I’m fine. Just so you know, I left Mom a message.”
I hear cabinets opening and closing in the background. “Well, she isn’t home.”
“I’m sorry, Ave. I didn’t mean to worry you. Vance ran into some car trouble and—”
“Wait,” she interrupts, her pitch suddenly more upbeat. “Vance is with you?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, then.” She calms down and her tune changes. “As long as I know you’re fine. Take your time.”
Vance’s gaze is heavy on my face and my cheeks warm. “Hold on.” I cover the phone while trying to keep my lips from tipping up. “Pay attention to the road so we can get home in one piece.”
He grins as if he knows we’re talking about him. “Traffic is stopped here, sweetheart. Nowhere to go.”
My eyes hone in on the line of cars preceding us. I’m tempted to tell him not to call me sweetheart, but he did it with such a compelling smile that I can only muster one response. “Oh.”
He folds his arms over his chest and leans against the door, continuing to stare at me. Flustered, I reach down with my fingers to pick at a crack in the leather. I wish he wouldn’t look at me like that because it makes me wonder what he’s thinking. All through this, my sister is still talking but I’m no longer paying attention. “All right, Ave. I gotta go. I’ll see you later.”
“That’s it?” she asks, disappointment clear in her voice.
“Yup.”
The click of her heels against the wood floor sounds in my ear as she navigates the room. “I hope you’ve got something better for me when you get home.”
“Goodbye, Avery.” I end the call before shooting a quick text to Troy. Dropping the cell in my purse, I let out a groan.
Vance’s gaze follows my phone, then drifts up to me. “What’s wrong?”
“My sister,” I explain with another groan and an eye roll. “She has a one-track mind.”
“Oh yeah?” His hair tumbles across his cheek as he tilts his head to regard me. “What track is that?”
“The sex track.”
“Ah, the dreaded sex track,” he muses. “Unfortunately, I know a lot about that.” He’s not smiling anymore and I have a hard time reading his expression. I think it might be one of regret.
“Maybe it’s time to switch tracks,” I suggest with humor, trying to keep the conversation light.
“I wish I could,” he mumbles under his breath. And I wonder what that means.
NOT LONG AFTER, I take over the wheel and make another pit stop at a gas station. By the time we pull into Vance’s driveway, it’s late. The streetlights cast a soft glow inside the car, his face in shadows. I can just detect the outline of his smile.
“Well, Mickey, this was….” His eyes seek out mine in the semi-darkness and he pauses as if to chase the words. “An adventure. I had… fun.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
He averts his gaze as he leans forward, hand poised over the door handle. Then he looks back, his voice quiet. “Thank you for the lift. And… for everything you did today.”
I want to tell him I didn’t do anything. But the absolute sincerity radiating off of him makes me decide to accept his gratitude without my usual fight. “You’re welcome.” With a subtle nod of his head, he opens the door and steps out before shutting it behind him.
My fingers gravitate toward the rabbit’s foot and I spin it around, mesmerized. I’m about to back out, except something makes me glance up to Vance’s front door. When I do, I find him standing there staring my way. I can’t make out his face from here because it’s too dark. But I can sense he’s smiling, and a weird pang erupts in my belly. I don’t know what it means. But I know how it feels—
A lot like happiness.
THE PARKING LOT near Anna’s pastry shop is pretty empty this morning, but surprisingly, there’s a line at the door. I figured I’d come over and buy Ember a coffee, my way of saying thank you for everything she did yesterday. I’m jittery though, hopped up on—I don’t know what—and now I’m second-guessing myself. Maybe this wasn’t such a hot idea after all.
I cup my hands against the window and peer in. Ember is behind the register alone, whirling around from one side of the counter to the other. Her face is set in determination but she seems… frazzled. Not bothering to be polite, I deal with muttered curses and push my way through the front door. Ember happens to glance up and shoots me a half-smile, continuing to ring up customers. I can’t help but wonder where the other employees are. There is no way she can handle all these people by herself.
“Hey, what’s going on?” I ask once I weave my way to the counter. She doesn’t look over at me when she responds, and I end up speaking to her back.
“I can’t talk right now, Vance. Anna and Rosie are both sick, and….” Ember gestures with a hand toward the crowd then spins around. She tries to paste on a smile as she rings up a customer, while waiting on someone else who can’t make a decision about pastries to save their freaking life. Grumbles from behind don’t make the lady decide any faster, so I give her a subtle shove.
“You might want to choose something. Two minute decisions are key in a coffee shop and,” I jerk my head toward the crowd, “you’re kind of holding up the line.”
The only response I get is an angry brown-eyed glare and a flick of auburn hair over her shoulder as she steps to the side. It’s then that I decide to take matters into my own hands. I plow straight back behind the counter. Ember stares at me dumbfounded as I head right for her.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing, Mickey? You need help, and I’m helping.”
She passes coffee to a woman with a huge rack and an amused smile who is watching us like we’re some kind of side show.
“If I were you,” she reflects, and we both glance at her, “and I wish like hell I was,” she winks at me then looks to Ember, “I’d accept his help.”
Ember opens her mouth to protest, but all that comes out is a resigned breath as her shoulders sag with relief. “Okay.”
“Great.” I clap my hands together. “Let’s get this party started. Just tell me what you want me to do.”
For the rest of the day, since I know fuck-all about making lattes, Ember takes the lead there while I handle ringing up customers and passing out pastries. The mornin
g and afternoon go by pretty smoothly and I’ll admit we make a great team. Once we finish cleaning and she locks up, we take a seat at one of the tables. She grabs us a few cinnamon rolls and brings over a hot coffee for me and a fancy whipped cream number for herself.
“So….” She takes a bite of her cinnamon roll with a hesitant smile. “Thanks for swooping in and saving the day.”
“Eh.” I sip my coffee, so hot I nearly burn the roof of my mouth. “It’s what I do.”
She leans back, eyeing me above the rim of her cup. “Is it now?”
“Not really.” I chuckle. “But you looked like you were drowning and I thought I’d throw you a life preserver.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, her smile disintegrates. “What is it? What did I say?”
“Actually, you know what?” She sits up straighter and brushes it off. I wish I knew what that was about. “It’s totally fine. You don’t have to filter everything you say. After all,” her smile returns, “I don’t.”
Regret and confusion still remain but I nod anyway. “So everyone is out sick?”
“Yup.” She brings the cinnamon roll to her mouth and inhales a huge bite. When she places it down on the plate, I notice a spattering of icing settled just below her lips. I tap a finger to my chin.
“You’ve got some icing….”
Ember lifts her napkin and dabs it against her lips twice, missing the spot. I shake my head and waggle my finger to urge her closer.
“C’mere.”
She leans in to the table and I reach out, swiping away the sweet, sticky frosting with the pad of my thumb. Her eyes, so amazingly green from up close, lock on mine. A few seconds pass and I realize my thumb is still moving back and forth over her skin—and it’s so damn soft. Abruptly, I draw back and clear my throat.
“So yeah… everyone’s sick you were saying?”
Her eyes clear and she blinks. “Yeah. Anna still has a stomach bug and Rosie has strep throat. Troy had already scheduled the day off to spend with his sisters. And I don’t know where the heck Peter is. There was also Charlotte, but she quit recently because she moved to Virginia.”
“That sucks. But I’m glad I showed up.”
Then, as if she realizes she’s been meaning to ask me all along. “Why did you show up?”
I fold and refold the napkin in front of me. “I wanted to thank you and buy you a coffee, which I now realize makes no sense.” I laugh at my own stupidity. “Because you get it for free. And now I did, too.”
“You earned it.”
I stare over my shoulder and snicker. “I couldn’t believe those people. They kill their own for coffee.”
“Yeah, well.” She grins, taking a drink then holding up her cup in salute. “I’m one of them.”
“Oh no.”
“Oh, yes.” She sneaks another sip, whipped cream sticking to her upper lip. Her smooth, pink tongue darts out in a half-circle to lick it away. I snag my coffee from the table and gulp some down, not caring that it’s still hot. “My mother used to take me with her to Starbucks all the time. She’d order those mocha Frappuccino’s and would always let me have some. My father didn’t like it and told her she shouldn’t be doing it, that it wasn’t good for me. But she kept doing it anyway. And I got hooked.”
“It’s easy to get hooked on things that are bad for you. Especially when they taste so damn good,” I agree, trying to ease the burn in my throat.
“Like Twinkies, perhaps.”
“Exactly.” I grin and peel off a chunk of cinnamon roll, popping it into my mouth. The sweetness lingers on my tongue and I swig more coffee to balance it out. “So what do you do for fun? You the adventurous type?”
She swirls her straw around the layer of whipped cream topping her cup. “Not nearly. My brother was, though. I think the biggest risk I’ve ever taken was when my friend Troy coerced me into riding the Looping Thunder roller coaster at Oaks Park. I almost had a coronary and didn’t speak to him for days after that.”
I chuckle at the still terrified expression on her face. “Roller coasters don’t bother me. The craziest thing I’ve ever done is bungee jumping.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh my God. I can’t even imagine doing that. I’m afraid the cord would snap.”
“Nah. It’s actually pretty secure.” I gesture with my hands, crisscrossing them over my chest. “You’re wearing a harness so it’s not too bad. Skydiving on the other hand, that might freak me the fuck out.”
She stares down at the table then back to me. “Zack was supposed to do his first skydive the weekend after….” Her thoughts taper off, shoulders dropping on a sigh. “He would’ve done it, too. He was fearless, you know? Whereas me… I’d be afraid to fall.” She shakes her head as if she still can’t believe he’s gone. “He thought he was invincible. I think I did, too.”
“He was obviously very brave. Not me, I’ll stick to more wimpy things on the ground. Like martial arts.”
“What kind?” Another piece of pastry gets shoved in her mouth, her cheek puffing out as she chews.
“Karate.” I flex my arms out in front of me. “I actually haven’t kept up with it, but I got my Black Belt years ago.”
“That’s really impressive. I guess I better not do anything to piss you off.”
I shoot her a nonchalant grin, shrugging my shoulders for extra effect. “I think at this point you’re pretty much exonerated from my wrath.”
Her face lights up. “I feel pretty special then, considering….” She circles her hands in the air like she’s wiping down a window. “You’ve got that whole broody thing going on.”
For the briefest of moments, I consider telling her that she is special. Because a part of me is whispering she is. But it seems too personal, too close to crossing a boundary I have to be sure to stay behind.
“Yoohoo.” She wiggles her fingers in front of my face. “Earth to Vance?” I refocus on her, those riveting eyes trying to find me. “Where’d you go?”
“Just zoning out.”
High-pitched screams from outside force our attention to the window and the small park across the street. Two little boys are racing from the grass to a low wooden fence overlooking the road.
“Julian and I used to race like that when we were kids, too,” I explain, smiling at the memory. “He always used to win. That little fucker.” One of the boys punches the air when he makes it to the fence first. “He’s always been a lot more athletic than me. His legs are also longer so that helps.”
“He sounds competitive like Avery. She was always trying to one-up me. It bothered me when we were kids because I felt like she could master things I couldn’t. And that she was doing it to annoy me.” She laughs. “Which she probably was.”
“So wait,” I pick at the crumbs on my napkin, “Are you guys close then?”
Her cheeks hollow as she sucks coffee through the straw, trying not to smile. “We are now. She’s like the Yin to my Yang.” She rests an elbow on the table, her fist tucked under her chin. “We weren’t as close before though. But after Zack died we clung to each other and became inseparable in ways.”
Our conversation veers off then into everything from family quirks, to politics, art, and our mutual love for zombie movies and The Walking Dead. However, our serious bone of contention arises when she tells me her favorite movie is Pretty Woman.
“Pretty Woman?” I hiss out an annoyed laugh. “Come on. That movie is as far from reality as you’re ever gonna get.”
“And so what?” She throws her hands up in the air. “It’s a movie. It’s no different from the books you read. Those are fiction,” she emphasizes, curling her fingers into air quotes.
“Yes,” I toss back. “But those aren’t fluffy, bullshit, never gonna happen happy endings.”
There are no happy endings in the cards for me. But I’m not getting into that with her.
“It could happen,” she retorts, her mouth a straight line.
“So you want some rich prince to climb up a fire escape wi
th an umbrella and flowers to save you?”
“Aha!” She jabs her finger in the air at me. “You have seen it. And I already told you I don’t need to be saved.” She holds her chin high. “I’ll save myself, thank you very much.”
My grin goes wide at her stubborn and self-assured nature. “I have no doubt you will, Mickey. And FYI, I would never watch that garbage by choice. I was coerced to watch the DVD by Julian and a date.” I smirk. “It wasn’t a pleasurable experience.” Reaching for my cup, I happen to glance at my watch. “Holy shit. Do you realize we’ve been talking for almost three hours?”
“Not surprising.” She lobs her balled-up napkin at me. “You kind of have a big mouth.”
“Nice.” I push my chair back, the screech echoing in the empty café. “I’ve got to get back to my job search. You ready?”
“Yeah.” She snags our empty cups and the leftover cinnamon rolls and throws them in the garbage. When we reach the door, she unlocks it and flips me a sideways glance. “Thank you for….” Her throat works on a soft swallow and that shy smile of hers is back. “…Saving me. Because today, I really did need saving.”
“Don’t worry.” I wink. “I promise it won’t happen again. Besides, it was… you know, fun or whatever…,” I half-mumble, my voice trailing off. She twists the knob, but pauses again as I start to speak. “You do realize we keep thanking each other for shit, don’t you?”
“I do,” she answers with a curious lift of her brow.
“Okay. Just checking.”
We step out into what’s left of the sunshine and Ember peers up at me, one hand shielding her eyes. “I’m sure there are worse things.”
I stare at her lips tipped up into a sweet smile. “Yes, there definitely are.”
Her keys jingle in her hand as she turns, heading in the opposite direction. “I’ll see ya, Vance.”
“Not if I see you first.”
