by Mistake: (Poison & Wine, book 1)

by Sigal Ehrlich

  Somewhat surprised, and maybe a little . . . disappointed? Anna blinks and then quickly recovers. She follows my wordless lead and disappears behind the heavy door, saying goodnight one more time.

  Wow, the holism of this night, this moment – my head’s spinning. I drop to sit on the stairs, feeling like I’ve been knocked flat on my ass. Tonight, for the first time in my life I feel like someone else can affect my future, well-being, and plans.

  The night begged to be sealed with a kiss. This was, well, this all day exceeded any expectations. Things like that seldom happen. The easiness, the connection, the chemistry. I’m literally blown away. God’s testing me, sending me my future way before it’s due course.

  What now? Seriously, what now?

  Tonight, for the first time, I’m scared of the future because it feels like it has become unknown.

  Chickens Can Fly (just not very far)

  Anna to CHICKENS: Morning Chickens, I’m just going to leave this little quote I saw earlier in a book here for you, enjoy! “If you hang out with chickens, you’re going to cluck and if you hang out with eagles, you’re going to fly.”

  Victoria to CHICKENS: Literally laughing my gluteus maximus off. I always knew you guys were holding me back. Bahawawa.

  Anna to CHICKENS: We love you too, sis.

  Pandora to CHICKENS: I’d cluck with y’all anytime.

  Kayla to CHICKENS: Fuck thems eagles, they scavenge dead animals. Yeah, sneaky petty thieves, thank you but no thank you. Chickens rock.

  Anna to CHICKENS: Chickens empowerment, baby.

  “Hi,” I greet the group of clients getting ready in the locker room. Even though my mind is preoccupied with thoughts about the last two days of radio silence from Liam, I can still hear some of the conversations going on around me. But yeah, my mind is pretty immersed in thoughts. Not only did Liam end our perfect day together in an awkward way, but he also followed it up in the same fashion by not really following up. Oh, excuse me for missing this little gem. He actually hammered the idea of his strange goodbye with an even lovelier “quote of the day” text that arrived a few long minutes after he left, while I was still reeling from the whole day and his peculiar adieu.

  Liam: “He who hesitates is sometimes saved.”

  Now, up until that moment, all of Liam’s quotes were of the sarcastic realm and as such I took them. That one somehow didn’t feel like it was a variant of said cynical sphere. Especially after how he left things. It felt a bit like a prophecy, to which I replied with, “Indecision is the greatest thief of opportunity.” And that, ladies and gentlemen, was the last anyone saw of him. We’re well over the prerequisite 48 hour wait before filing a missing person report. Disappeared off the face of the earth with no real hasta la vista, baby.

  “Over six months post-baby and I still look like I’m about to give birth.”

  “I don’t understand this. It’s like belly fat never leaves. Once it’s there it’s there forever.”

  “It’s not a double chin anymore, it’s like I somehow managed to grow a third one.”

  “These stretch marks . . . no matter what I try they just won’t go away.”

  I shake my head at the self-criticism coming from this room full of beautiful, ambitious, smart women. It bothers me enough to quiet down the Liam thoughts.

  “Hey, do you mind staying for another fifteen minutes after the lesson?” I ask the ladies sitting on the mats before me, ready for an intensive Pilates class.

  They exchange questioning looks, some shrug, some give the clock on the wall a glance and most of them nod in agreement. “What for?” It’s the eldest of the group. A grey-haired, chemist with a fit physique and witty mouth. “Anything special?”

  I smile at her, “An experiment I’d like to try with you if that’s okay.”

  Another round of agreement and we start the lesson. “Lie flat on your back, extend your legs long. Arms above your head.” I run my eyes over each one of my clients, making sure they’re following my lead. After a short warmup, I declare, “Teaser time, ladies.” I let out a brief laugh to the grunts of protest coming my way. “You got this. Come on, legs in tabletop position, now, legs and torso raise to a “V” shape. Great!”

  I jump to a stand and walk around, correcting whoever needs adjustment. “Good job!” “Okay now, hundreds!” I return to lie down on my mat to join them for the next one. “And inhale one, two, three, four, five. And exhale, one, two, three four, five. Six more. Perfect!” I watch them from my mat, making sure they stay in positing.

  “Four more to go, nearly there.” Faces turn red, grunts are shot into the air in desperation from different locations. “You got this, two more. Hold it, hold it, enjoy the pain,” I say with an encouraging smile.

  “Give me a minute, I’ll be right back,” I say to the now somewhat sweaty ladies as we end the session with some deep breathing, lying on our backs. They cradle their legs, rocking a little from side to side. “Keep going, I’ll be right back.”

  Coming back from the office, I say, “You can have a drink, and please take a seat on your mats.” I put the sticky notes and the pens I brought from the office by my side and wait for everyone to return to their respective mat. “So, I had the pleasure of hearing your, umm, ‘self-love’ proclamations before we started,” I say. I’m rewarded with a few mocking scoffs and timid smiles. I smile back at them. “You’re all beautiful,” I begin.

  “You mean, you are beautiful,” the grey-haired, sassy woman counters.

  “We’re all beautiful in our own special way,” I reply. “I think we are often way too hard on ourselves. Sometimes the way you see yourself is completely different from the way others see you.” I’m glad to see that I got their full attention. “Now, if you’re okay with it, let’s do a little exercise.”

  The grey-haired client gives me a derisive look. I hold her stare. “Humor me.”

  When they all finally agree, I ask them to sit in a circle. “Now, we’ll go around and each one of us will complement the other. Say what caught your eye about the person sitting next to you.”

  For a few minutes, each in her turn tells the other what stands out to her. “You have such beautiful eyes.” “Your hair is gorgeous.” “You’re so fit.” “Your skin is flawless.” “Your arms are so toned.” And so on. Easy. The women take compliments with bashful smiles, a few blushes and many eyes drop humbly. Some mumble self-decrepitating excuses such as, “yeah, it’s the makeup,” or “these tights do wonders.”

  “Great, that was beautiful. However, I think that you should accept a compliment as it is. Don’t apologize, own it. It’s well deserved.” I eye them. “Now,” I pick up the sticky notes. “Each one of you will get three of these. What we’ll do is write down three things that we don’t like about our bodies and stick them on whichever part of our body it corresponds to.” Curious glances are thrown at me and then between the group.

  I hand them the material and we all jot down our “flaws.” It’s not the first time I’ve participated in such an exercise and once again it doesn’t surprise me just how easily and too quickly women come up with what they dislike about themselves. This part takes less than a minute. Sad.

  “Okay, now I want to ask you all to stand up and walk around the room with your sticky notes in place. Walk around and read the notes on everyone in the group.” We walk around reading the notes, with awkward snorts and headshakes. It’s interesting to see how many people tend to disagree with what others wrote about themselves.

  “Done?” I ask. To everyone’s confirmation, I am ready to start the second part of this experiment, the more challenging part. “So, this is the second part of this exercise. Now what we need to do is to collect these “flaws” we found in ourselves – ” I say, peeling mine off my body. “And stick them on one another.” As anticipated, I get some frowns and more than plenty of anxious looks. I nod. “I know, not an easy task, right?”

  Still somewhat wary, they all nod in agreement. “That’s hars
h,” someone says.

  “Incredibly so, right?” I say with an easy smile. “Think about just how easily you found your own flaws and just how easily you were ready to declare them about yourself. How quick we are to judge ourselves and, let’s call a spade a spade, hurt ourselves.” I nod again. “I know it’s not an easy thing to do, but let’s carry on, shall we?”

  This part takes much longer than the first part. People are so wary and hesitant, profusely apologizing, asking for forgiveness, and generally showing every tell-tale sign of awkwardness doing what they are doing. Everyone looks miserable. A lot of the notes fall off, a sign they were not pressed on hard enough by the less than eager participants. A true representation of just how incredibly hard it is to openly judge someone else to their face.

  “Hard, huh?” I ask as the last sticky note is pressed on a thigh with a deflated, “I’m so, so sorry.” “It’s an awful feeling, right? How hard is it to point out or even find flaws in others – face to face.” I eye them. “Yet how easy it was to do it to ourselves.”

  No one talks, they all stare at me.

  “Please have this exercise in mind next time you hurt yourself, okay? Be a bit more mindful, be a bit more conscious about your feelings, be gentle to yourself, and much less judgmental.” I reach my arms to the sides, taking the hands of the two women standing by my side in mine. “Let’s hold hands for a moment before we go and apologize to each other and mostly to ourselves.” It’s a silent moment where we connect and empower each other. “Thank you ladies, you’re all fabulous, please remember that! Now go get your lattes and smoothies and see you on Friday.”

  As the clients file out of the room, my mind wanders to Liam. This time due to a reflexive thought of how I’ll tell him about today when we talk next. And it troubles me immensely. He’s become that person – the one you share the little things about your day with. The seemingly meaningless things that can mean so much simply by being able to share them. He’s become that person I don’t even think about before contacting. That 24/7 person who’s always there.

  And that brings me to further confusion. The fact that I was so attracted to him even though, as good looking as he is, he’s not my go-to type. But boy, the somersaults my heart did when he held me between his arms at the movie. What baffles me the most though is the fact that our time together exceeded any expectations. It felt utterly, and I can confidently say, mutually great.

  Or have I grossly missed something?

  Just as the last client leaves the studio and I’m about to close up and go for lunch, the door opens, bringing in a light breeze with a familiar whiff of perfume and a killer set of stilettos. “Hey, Beans,” my sister says.

  “Oh, to what do we owe the honor of your presence, your highness?” I ask, stepping closer to give Vicky a side-hug and a smooch on the cheek.

  “Lunch!” She states rather than asks. “I needed a break from my office walls and screen.” She leans her pencil-skirt clad butt on the office desk, waiting for me as I gather my stuff. I don’t need to answer, Victoria knows full-well that I’ll never say no to spending time with her. “So,” she says, eyeing me as I toss my phone and notebook into my bag. “How’s the love life?”

  I give her an annoyed glance.

  “I gather Doctor Brody is still MIA, and you still didn’t call him and you’re still way too hung up on him to see there’s a beautiful world out there full of lovely guys who’ll die to date you.”

  “I’m not hung up on him, and I’m sure we’ll talk at a certain point. He has a very busy schedule.”

  My sister twists her mouth while inhaling deeply through her nose. “It’s been what, just two months since you guys started talking? And it’s been, what? Two months since you’ve been so deep into this thing. And the date.” She pushes herself off the desk with a shove of her butt and follows me as I blow out the candles in the main studio.

  “It wasn’t a date,” I murmur.

  “Right, right, just coffee.” She folds her arms across her midsection. “That lasted almost twenty-four hours where you had the best time ever?” She nods then pretends to contemplate the matter. “Absolutely not a date.” Then, “You know what you should have sent him instead of that quote?”

  “No, but I’m sure you’re gonna tell me.”

  Vicky disregards the jab. She adjusts a couple of cushions on the corner sofa, helping me tidy up. “How did it go?” She mumbles to herself. “Oh, I remember, ‘You want to come into my life, the door is open. You want to get out of my life, the door is open. Just don’t stand in the door, you’re blocking the traffic.’”

  Sometimes I regret telling my sister every little detail. Though I got to give it to her, it’s a pretty good quote. “Good one.”

  “Right? There was this other one that I saw, not relevant, or maybe yes, but it’s gold. It goes, ‘I’m in a really good spiritual place right now, so please fuck off. Namaste.’”

  “I might get that one as a face tattoo, those are popular right now,” I say flatly.

  “It will look formidable on you.”

  I send her a grin which she mirrors.

  She follows me back to the office, still blabbering. “You know what I think? I think that Liam is a eureka moment person for you. He’s the person that makes you realize why it never truly worked with anyone else. And as such, screws up your pretty little mind.”

  “Eureka moment person, seriously? Shoo, stop pestering,” I tell her, flicking off the light.

  “Let me ask you this, lil’ sis. If a fine male crossed your orbit and asked you out right now, would you go on a date? You know, if Liam is not even an option and you weren’t that into him.”

  I cock my head and twist my lips. “No brainer. Course I will.” And just like that, a fine male enters the door. Well-fit, nice charcoal suit, wide shoulders, silky dark hair, and a nice tan. Vicky and I exchanged puzzled, The-Hell? looks.

  “Hi, can I help you?” I ask, probably someone interested in signing up for a studio class. Though, he looks more like the type who’s more into cross-training than Pilates or Yoga. For a sec I imagine him in my 80’s throwback class and inwardly snort.

  “Hi,” I get a smile with a perfect set of pearly whites. “Anna, right?”

  I frown, giving the guy another look. “Yeah. Do we know each other?”

  “Sorry,” he extends his hand for a shake. “Jesse Brown.”

  I frown again, searching my mind for the familiar name. “Nina’s grandson,” he says, “we exchanged a couple of emails.” His hand is still extended my way.

  I clasp his hand in both of mine. “Oh, sorry, right. Mr. Brown.” Also known as the lawyer handling the studio’s sell, and my boss’s grandson. Very good looking lawyer-grandson. Just an observation.

  “Jesse,” he says, a smile of the non-business variety full on.

  “Jesse, right.” I send him a tiny apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I was about to leave for lunch,” I say instead of asking what are you doing here?

  “Oh,” Jesse glances at my sister. “I thought I’d pop by, see how you’re doing with the loan, and if you have any questions.”

  I frown again. He didn’t have to come all the way here for that. It’s an email sort of thing. Unless . . . “Oh, did anything change? Are you putting the studio on the market?”

  Jesse’s eyes hold mine. “Not yet.”

  I swallow hard.

  “But, I can help with that, get you more time. How about we discuss it over dinner?”

  I seem to be frowning a lot next to this guy because I find myself doing it again. “Mr. Brown.”

  He eyes me a tad deeper.

  “Jesse,” I continue. “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t date professional acquaintances. I mean, go to dinner . . . ” I swallow again, hoping I’m not shooting myself in the foot here. “Under those circumstances.”

  Jesse drops his head and lightly shakes it with a smile. He lifts his eyes to me with an apologetic beam. “I’m sorry, I’m screwing this u
p. Let me start over.” He extends his hand for a shake which I reciprocate, albeit a tad annoyed. “I’m Jesse, my grandma told me a lot about you and when I was looking into the studio material, I saw your profile photo on the website and liked what I saw.”

  My cheeks lightly tint. Talk about forwardness. Talk about a good save. Smooth.

  “So, yeah, I came here to meet you in person. It’s not some creepy obsession thing, I genuinely thought you were someone I wanted to meet in person. My grandma can vouch for me.”

  I squint sideways just to meet my sister’s challenging raised brow and annoying side smile. Well, that’s sort of sweet and a little old fashioned, which I healthily appreciate. Add the grandma angle to the mix–he’s good. Also, Jesse here, he’s definitely my type. He’s plenty yummy. Yet, even the thought of entertaining his offer stirs a rather sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Truth is, my mind is hooked on someone else right now.

  “Oh,” I’m a bit lost for words. “Nice to meet you,” I recover and send Jesse a smile.

  He grins at me then trades a look with Vicky. “I don’t want to keep you from your plans–”

  “Oh, that’s fine,” Vicky adds her two cents, grinning at me like a malicious fruitcake.

  “How about I call you and we set something up?” Jesse continues his line of subtle but continuous advances.