by Allie Faye
I eye her whore polish and say to Waylon, “Pretty sure she is violating the health code.”
“Ignore her,” he tells me, motioning for me to follow him to the kitchen.
Sucking in a breath, I pass by the jealous hag and follow Waylon behind the bar. We pass through what I akin to swinging saloon style doors into the small but tidy kitchen. There’s a grill, deep fryer, refrigerator, and a prep table. Waylon goes to the fridge and takes out some lemons, placing them on the stainless-steel table.
“You can wash your hands over there,” he instructs, pointing to a small sink at the opposite end of the room.
I nod as he takes a knife and storage container from a shelve.
After washing my hands, I rejoin him, wondering if Holden actually needs to hire anyone. The place seems dead.
Waylon leaves me on my own to slice lemon and limes wedges. After that I move to onions. Once I’ve finished that I go on to filling napkin holders, the salt and pepper shakers and check to see that the bathrooms have soap and toilet paper. Thankfully Cheryl stays out of my way. Now I have nothing to do. The place is dead other than a band doing their soundcheck. I didn’t even know they had live music outside of the open mic nights.
This group has an alternative folk sound. I am sitting at a nearby booth filling out the new hire forms. Apparently, Holden called and said that after I fill these out I can leave. I don’t guess he’s coming in today while I’m here. Which sucks because I was hoping he’d be working while I am at the apartment having the talk with Ezra.
As I go the bar to give my paperwork over to Waylon the band is finishing their set. The lead singer reaches the bartender before I do and orders a beer.
“Can I buy you a drink?” He winks at me and I can’t help but blush. He’s got that whole edgy, sexy rocker thing going on. Messy bed hair that says he’s just been screwing his brains out and eyes so grey they don’t look real. They almost remind me of Holden’s eyes. He flicks his lip piercing with his tongue as he waits for me to answer. “So, whatcha drinking?” He’s dressed in black jeans with the knees ripped out, combat boots, and a black t-shirt that says Bite Me across the front with a pair of fangs.
I shake my head and look to Waylon for help and he just looks at me like no way, you’re on your own, sweetheart.
“I can’t, but thanks. I’m on my way out.”
He looks at me as though I smacked him. Guess he isn’t used to the word no.
“Do you know who I am, love?”
“A guy who wants to buy me a drink?” I tease, but seriously I don’t know who in the hell the guy is. I don’t follow music all that much.
He laughs and a dimple pops out on his right cheek. And it hits me. I’ve seen his face on the front of those cheesy tabloids at the grocery store checkouts.
“You’re that guy. Bad Intentions? Right?”
“Guilty. So how about that drink?”
I roll my eyes as I hand my employee forms across the bar to Waylon who looks like he has better shit to do with his time than listen to the two of us. He places them under the bar and moves to get this guy his beer.
“So, you think because I recognized you that I’m what all the sudden going to change my mind?” I arch a brow at him.
“Well damn.” He shakes his head and takes his beer, chugging it.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Waylon.”
He nods.
I go to the backroom to retrieve my purse.
When I am coming back through the band is sitting at a booth and Cheryl is leaning down, whispering in the drummer’s ear. I laugh silently and make my way to the door. I should have asked for his autograph. I wonder how in the hell Holden got them to play here.
Just as I am moving to push the door open, Holden is pulling it from the other side. His eyes meet mine full of such intensity.
“Hey,” I say, trying to keep my cool, but my heart is about to thump right out of my chest.
“Conleigh,” he says coolly, walking on past me.
That’s it. No smartass remarks.
I start to ask him if he’s mad at me, but that seems stupid. I watch as he goes over to the booth and wraps an arm around Cheryl’s shoulder. My stomach tenses and I don’t know why I haven’t started walking to the apartment yet. I guess my curiosity is winning. The lead singer gets up and gives Holden one of those weird fist bump combos all guys seem to do.
He whispers something to Holden and then they are both looking at me, and I hurry out the door, embarrassed having been caught gawking at them.
I don’t turn back as I rush to make the walk to the apartment.
When I get there Ezra isn’t home yet. I am thankful for a few moments to myself but when I go to sit on the couch, I remember kissing Holden. The way he kissed me…thinking about It, I can’t help but smile. I move to the bedroom, but I see Holden’s door across the hall. I shake my head, I am not letting my mind go there right now.
I get on my computer and look up the band, Bad Intentions. I can’t help but wonder why they would book a gig at The Grill. Lead singer, Wren James has been arrested several times for possession and DUI. Numerous stints in rehab. And here I thought Holden was a bad boy. Wren James hmm. I wonder what his relation to Holden is. Looks like the band lost out on several endorsements when they canceled their last tour and have been on a break while Wren spent three months in court ordered rehabilitation. There are several photos of this Wren and a blonde bombshell playboy model type chick. Says that her name is Reese James, I guess she was his wife or maybe she still is. I feel dirty snooping on Holden and his friend or family member or whatever and end up erasing my browsing history and pretending I didn’t give in to the temptation. If he wants me to know he will tell me. It isn’t any of my business.
I haven’t heard from Ezra to know when he will arrive, and I have no idea what I will say to him when he does make an appearance. I think about working on my book, but I can’t get in the zone. I have too much on my mind. I haven’t heard from my mother today either. I figured she would have been harping on me to accept Ezra’s proposal. Not that her lecture would bear any weight on changing my mind.
Chapter 18
Conleigh
It’s another two hours before Ezra shows and when he comes in things are extremely tense and awkward.
He stares at me for a minute as I sit on the bed reading. I pretend not to notice his presence for a few minutes. I don’t know what to say to him. I’m terrified I will tell him about Holden and me simply to hurt him. He deserves it, but that isn’t who I am.
“Con, you think you can stop ignoring me and put the book down?” He snaps.
“Do you think you could travel back in time and not fuck your assistant?”
He sighs, loudly. Overly dramatic.
Sticking my bookmark in the crease, I close my book and place it on the nightstand.
“Truce? I just want to talk.”
“Fine. Truce,” I tell him tight lipped.
He runs his hand through his hair and I can tell by the lines on his forehead this isn’t a conversation I really want to have. He takes off his jacket and loosens his tie. I watch as he kicks off his shoes and then he sits down by my feet on the edge of the bed.
My back goes straight, and I pull my knees up under my chin, hugging my arms around them.
“Con…” He looks at me with a melancholy expression.
I am sure he feels bad for what he did. I feel guilt of my own, but for different reasons. When I first propositioned Holden, it was for revenge. I wanted to hurt Ezra, but then I let my guard down and let myself explore how I really felt about Holden. And these feelings I feel for him are just…wow. I can only imagine it being like seeing your first rainbow or for me your first butterfly. I can’t even explain the sensation, but I don’t believe anything can compare.
“You have to know that I regret hurting you. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was spending so much time with my dad that I don’t know…I started turning into him. It’s
not an excuse. I know that. I’m sorry. I just—I love you. “
I look up at him and swallow hard because what I am about to say hurts. “You may love me, Ezra, but we both know you aren’t in love with me. If you were…you never would have fucked around on me. And right now, I feel more betrayed than anything. I don’t know what you want from me. I can forgive you sure, but I will always wonder when you will do it again and believe me you will. As much as you may promise me—I won’t stand in as second choice. I won’t play your whore.”
Suddenly, he reaches out and attempts to pull me into his arms, and I struggle against his grip. “I would never treat you like a whore, Conleigh. I want to give you everything.”
I shake my head as tears begin to pass between us. He has to know this is the end. I’m mostly sad I am losing my other best friend. For so long Ezra was my lover but most important of all he was my confidante and he broke my trust and lost my respect. It settles deep down in my gut—we’re through. There is no getting my respect for him back. When he offered me up to Holden as if I didn’t have a say in who I share my body with he very much treated me like his whore.
He continues to tug on my wrists. “Stop, Ezra. It’s over. We’re done! I’m in love with someone else,” I confess. I yank free from him and he slaps me as hard as he can across the cheek.
A bitter pain stings my jaw and radiates to my ear.
Holding my cheek, I gape at him in shock. My tears are thick as they rain down my cheeks. I never thought he would hit me. “Just go.”
“Snookems, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…,” he pleads, appearing defeated.
“You don’t mean to do a lot of things, Ezra. Please, just leave.”
He nods and raises up from the bed. He doesn’t speak, and I don’t either. When he gets to the bedroom door he stops for a moment and looks back at me as I meet his gaze, mustering as much hate as I can into my glare.
I get up from the bed and he has the nerve to say, “I love you. I’ll win you back, Con. You’ll see. I’m not walking away from this—from us,” he vows. I step up in his face and he runs his finger over my red jaw. His head tips down and he kisses my cheek. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He brushes his lips over mine and I allow him this for reasons unknown to him. He thinks I am forgiving him, but this is goodbye. This ends here.
I won’t be that girl, as easy as it would be to look the other way, I can’t. Not now. Not since Holden. He’s somehow embedded himself in my very soul and I don’t know what I am going to do about that. But I do know that I can’t allow myself to go back to Ezra as though nothing has happened; too much has changed in the past twenty-four hours. I feel as though I am finally finding myself.
Ezra attempts to shove his tongue into my mouth and I press my palms against his chest in protest, but he takes it as an invitation. He pushes me back toward the bed as he grips my wrists. “God, I want you. I’m so hard for you, Con. I need you.”
I manage to break from his hold and knee him in the balls. “Never again, Ezra.” He goes down on his knees cupping his nuts with his eyes bulging out in pain. I shove his shoulder and shout, “Asshole,” as I go to the bathroom. Slamming the door, I lock it for good measure. I sit on the toilet wondering what I am doing here. Holden has an office, I wonder how he’d feel if I asked to rent the room from him until I sort my shit out. I hang my head between my legs and cry. This isn’t how things were supposed to be. When I moved in with Ezra I thought it would be our saving grace. In the end, it’s what destroyed us.
A fist bangs against the bathroom door. “Conleigh, just listen to me, please. I’ll do anything. We’re supposed to be together.”
“Just go. Go crawling back to Judy or ask your daddy to get you an apartment. You belong in the city. You don’t fit in here anymore.” His palm smacks the door. “You don’t mean that. You’ll come begging me to take care of you. Without your mom’s money, you’ll be needing me and just maybe I’ll wait and take you back, but I won’t wait forever. I have options.” His voice is hoarse and harsh.
The front door slams and I release the breath I didn’t know I was holding.
When I am sure that he has gone, I go into the kitchen and crack open a bottle of Jack Daniels. I go into the living room and collapse on the recliner. Drinking until my fingers feel numb.
I want to reach out to Holden but I’m stubborn and pissed that he gave me the brush off at the bar. I should have known he’d get what he wanted and move on. Flipping through the channels on TV, I debate calling Bailey, but I don’t want her to rush over and make things more than they are. She tends to overact and be dramatic, not that it wouldn’t exactly be warranted but…still, I really want to be alone.
I even think about going to the bar to see Holden but then I remember my jaw and think better of it. I take another swig and curse all men under my breath.
————
Several hours, a very dry mouth, and pounding head later, I wake up in the recliner to the sound of a party raging around me. Wiping my eyes, I then lick my lips. My vision is still blurry, and my mouth is still dry as I glance around the room, hoping it’s only another one of my fucked-up dreams. There’s a guy on the couch. His pants are around his ankles with some stringy haired chick between his legs giving him a blowjob. I blink, certain it has to be a dream. Music is blaring out of the stereo system and there’s two girls dancing on the coffee table topless. What the serious fuck? I go to get up when something wet spills into my lap. The bottle of Jack Daniels I was cradling before I passed out. I look like I have pissed myself. Super. Just fucking wonderful. I get up, knees wobbly as I grip the side of the chair for support. The room is swaying. I’m not even sure how much I drank as my stomach rolls.
“We meet again, love,” Wren says over the music, approaching me wearing nothing but his jeans and a smile.
My head pounds in tune with the bass of the music.
Rubbing my temple, I ask, “What are you doing here?”
“I’m your houseguest. For a few weeks, anyway.” He winks and takes the nearly empty bottle of Jack from my other hand.
“Where’s Holden?” My brows are knitted in confusion as I take in the rest of the scene around me. These guys sure like to party and don’t care who sees them naked as the day they were born. Holden could have at least woken me so I could go to my room and lock the damn door.
“In his room. He said he didn’t want to be disturbed. So, if you’d like to champion your complaints to him, they’ll have to wait till morning. I’m available though.” He smiles a slimy smirk at me. Ugh. One man in this apartment who thinks he is god’s gift to women is enough.
Rolling my eyes, I stomp over to the stereo and power it off. “Party is over!” I shout in a raspy tone.
Wren laughs and takes a drink from the bottle of liquor. “Sure thing, love.”
“Stop calling me that,” I growl.
“Can I call you dove then?”
“You can call me Conleigh, now it’s time for everyone who doesn’t live here to leave.”
I don’t bother waiting for a response. I make my way down the hall to Holden’s room and don’t bother with knocking. I twist the knob and let myself in only to find him lying in bed reading. I don’t know what is more shocking. The fact that he’s alone or that he’s reading. A big part of me thought I would find him in here hooking up.
“You’re awake,” I blurt out stupidly.
“So are you,” he says without looking away from the page his eyes are scanning.
“Why are you being weird?”
“Wasn’t aware that you cared.” His eyes slide over the page and he raises a brow at me.
“I never said I didn’t. I—”
“You what?”
The bathroom door opens and out walks a woman wearing only a small towel. Her fake boobs are toppling out of the top and her bottom is surely hanging out the other side. She saddles past me and into Holden’s room.
My stomach lurches and rolls and throw up spews
from my nose and onto the floor as I try to cover my mouth.
Tears sting my eyes as I fall to my knees in heartache and humiliation. I should have known better. Why did I think Holden might really care about me?
The woman laughs and says, “Wow, Holden, you really know how to pick them.”
“Shut up, Reese,” he growls as he walks past me.
I should get up and go to the bathroom, but the truth is I am afraid if I move I’ll puke again. I chance a peek at the woman and now that I look at her as she fingers through a bag on the chair grabbing some clothes, I recognize her from the photos with Wren.
Holden returns and starts cleaning up my mess. I will never be able to look at him again. Is he screwing Reese? Do her and Wren have an open relationship? Is that why he keeps shamelessly flirting with me? I feel sick all over again as I lay crumpled on the floor.
Holden hands me a damp wash cloth and I graciously wipe my mouth but am still unable to look at him. Instead I look at Reese’s perfectly manicured toes, flexing my own, wanting to hide the terrible paint job I did on them last week.
“She looks like shit.”
“Get out, Reese,” Holden barks at her as she towers over us.
“She must really have you by the balls for you to be cleaning up her puke,” she sneers and shuts the door behind her.
Holden doesn’t speak to me until minutes later when he’s disposed of my mess and done who knows what with Reese. “Are you okay?”
“Why do you care?” I grumble at him, attempting to sit up.
“Don’t be like this, Conleigh. You told me you wanted space. And Ezra told me you…you know what it doesn’t matter. None of my business. You should get cleaned up and go to bed. If you still want that job, I need you at the bar in the morning to open.”
I start to ask him what Ezra said to him but think better of it. I want to ask him who Reese is to him as well as Wren, but I don’t. I pick myself up from the floor without a word and go brush my teeth. I don’t look in the living room to see if everyone left but it is refreshingly quiet.
