Trouble Next Door (Sweet Fortuity Book 2)

by Rica Grayson

  “It’s not your fault. I thought things would be okay,” she said, her voice brittle.

  It didn’t sound like her. I didn’t like it. I still held the coffee cup holder and held it out so she could take the coffee. She gingerly popped it out and set it on the table, rubbing a thumb over its warmth.

  She looked a little lost. My heart broke for her. But one thing I noticed was that the brave front she used to pretend she was okay was gone.

  And suddenly I wasn’t sad anymore—I felt anger. Something happened between them a long time ago. I didn’t know what it was, but I could guess. She left, and now I knew it had something to do with him.

  She still hurt. Only she didn’t have trouble hiding it anymore.

  “What did that ass do?” I found myself saying.

  “He didn’t…” She was going to shrug it off, I could tell. But she looked up at me, meeting my eyes, and the words died in her throat.

  “He’s everything to me,” she said softly, her hands going around her arms, rubbing the phantom chill away. “He made it sound like I didn’t value what we had.”

  I needed a Chase voodoo doll.

  Not that I was into that kind of thing, but it was probably therapeutic.

  I cleared my throat. “We’ve got to torture him.”

  They all looked at me.

  “What?” I frowned. “We could get Rona in on it and make her do some of her magic.”

  Eva slapped a hand over her forehead. Kate coughed, trying to conceal a laugh. Haley groaned. I might’ve heard her say something that sounded like why me?

  I shrugged. “It’s the only way to get him to explain why.”

  He better cough up a satisfactory response, or…

  “Maybe it’s best we leave those two alone,” Eva finally said. “They’ve gone through a lot. We need to let them figure it out.”

  She had a point. Not that I was happy about it. Always the voice of reason, Eva was.

  I heaved out a sigh in surrender.

  “Okay, okay. I’m still mad at him, though,” I groused.

  She was hurting, and I didn’t know how to help her. It made me feel helpless, and I didn’t like the feeling.

  I found her on the couch reading a book much later. It didn’t escape my notice that she hadn’t turned a single page.

  Time to put her out of her misery.

  I took out the brownie-flavored ice cream. Then I took out the salted-caramel one. I held both in my arms as I walked out the kitchen.

  Oh. I forgot the spoons. I ran back quickly, grabbing two.

  I pulled the chair back and sat directly opposite of her. She looked up, startled.

  “Interesting book, huh?”

  She averted her gaze. “I guess.”

  Yep, she didn’t understand a thing of what she’d read.

  I picked up the bookmark that she had left on the table. Illustrated was Rapunzel in her tower, complete with a pink-tasseled end.

  Fairytales.

  I never had that. Never had the comfort of hope that good endings happened to good people. Never had the fantasy of some kind of prince. Just cold, hard reality, and all the pain that came with it.

  Maybe that was a good thing—I didn’t have any of those illusions.

  I set the bookmark back down on the table, flipping the illustration around.

  I pushed the ice-cream tub towards her, the spoon resting on top.

  She accepted, giving me a small “thanks”.

  She set the book aside and stood up. Carrying the tub, she padded towards the living room’s balcony, gazing out.

  “Do you ever feel stuck sometimes?” she blurted out. “Like you’re bound to make the same mistakes? Stuck in some sort of stupid, endless loop.”

  I stopped next to her, leaning my elbows on the railing, and gave it some thought.

  “I’ve been there… But then I remind myself that sometimes we need to make them, so we can become a better version of ourselves.”

  She was silent for a while, until her lips quivered.

  “I wish I could be strong too,” she whispered.

  “You are,” I chided. How could she not see the type of person she was? “It’s because it hurts that you know you’ve done all you can to make it work.”

  Her expression softened, touched by a look of sadness that made my heart ache.

  “He doesn’t deserve you,” I told her. I tilted my head up to gaze at the stars. “Lots of other guys in the world.”

  She’d kept it all in before, whatever happened between her and Chase, until the burden of it made her leave. I should’ve said something about it then. Maybe she wouldn’t have left.

  I heard footsteps draw closer.

  “There you two are,” Haley said, relieved.

  All of a sudden, Sherry started crying.

  I walked to her and wrapped my arms around her shoulders.

  “Everything’s falling apart.” Her voice cracked as she said the words. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “You’ve got us,” I said determinedly.

  “That’s right,” Kate said softly.

  Sherry fell soundly asleep an hour later on the couch.

  Haley pulled the blanket over her, and I turned the TV off.

  Maybe she’d dream of good things—she deserved every one of them.

  Recent events hung like a cloud above us, a sort of gloominess that clung stubbornly in the air.

  Unable to stand it, Kate and I decided to stage an intervention—Operation Have Fun and Let Loose. Kate told Haley, and then it pretty much spread like wildfire in our circle.

  Kate was in charge of trying all means necessary to get her out the house.

  It looked like she succeeded when she called me the day after.

  “Got her,” she chirped, almost gleefully, before I heard the line click.

  Chapter Eight

  Operation Have Fun and Let Loose

  This was it.

  The dress of all dresses.

  Ugly, fluffy, and hideously colorful. The perfect eyesore.

  I did a twirl in my rainbow-colored dress, and walked out of my walk-in closet. It took me a little over half an hour to figure it out.

  This. This dress would teach him that I didn’t give two flying fucks about what people thought of what I wore.

  It was a little puffy and I probably stood out, because of the mix of colors. But then again, so what?

  It was a great idea. The perfect one.

  Unfortunately, my friends didn’t share the same sentiment.

  Sherry eyed me oddly. Haley’s lips were tightly pressed, like she wanted to say something, but managed to hold it back. Kate shook her head, like she thought this was a terrible idea.

  Eva looked more curious than anything else. She knows that I don’t typically wear these kinds of clothes.

  "There was a little sexy midnight blue dress that looked good on you,” Kate said. “Luke couldn't take his eyes off you when you wore it."

  An unwelcome conversation about him popped up. I wanted to cover my ears as they chattered.

  “Oh my God. You like him!” Sherry exclaimed.

  The absurdity of her assumption shocked me, and I found myself denying it reflexively. Then, “I’m not wearing this for him,” I declared, in case they got any ideas.

  What? What made me say that? Oh my God.

  I groaned, realizing what I’d just done. Now they knew.

  I didn’t want to hear this conversation anymore. I gathered all my clothes and bunched them up, my cheeks heated the entire time.

  “The walls are paper-thin on her apartment,” I heard Eva say mischievously, as I was hunting for my shoes.

  “They’re neighbors?” Haley gasped.

  “Yep,” I heard Eva reply, almost cheerfully.

  I tried to tune them out. Only one thing I needed to do before I left.

  I snatched a paper from my printer, and scrawled a quick note.

  Seven thirty tonight. Outside Serendipitous.


  I signed my name below it and slid it under his door all within two minutes. It was just going to be one quick meeting, done in a minute or two.

  I was feeling great about tonight.

  The band was playing. Sweet, wistful music filled the air, the mesmerizing voice of the singer inviting our attention.

  Sherry had a faint smile on her face. She looked a little better now, at least a little.

  Next to her, Eva’s eyes glistened, tears threatening to fall. Something was bothering her, that much I already knew. I nudged her foot lightly, and startled, she looked at me in confusion, before her expression settled to a blank one as she swiped a tear underneath an eye. I knew that look—she didn’t want to talk. I’d just draw it out of her later.

  “Free Fortune cookies from Camelot’s Cupcake and Cookies!” I heard someone call out.

  Did someone say free?

  I rubbed both hands together, praying to the fortune gods.

  What kind of message was I going to receive?

  I snapped the cookie in half, and I unrolled the small piece of paper.

  Opposites attract.

  Two simple words, as if it were speaking directly to me.

  Stupid fortune cookie.

  After what happened earlier, I didn’t want to invite more teasing when they try to decipher what it meant. Until I felt the crumbs in my hands, I didn’t realize that I’d partially crushed the cookie. Oops.

  I popped it in my mouth. Mmm. Well, at least it tasted great. Light, not too sweet, and just the right crunch.

  I crumpled the piece of paper, covering it with my glass. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

  Sherry looked at me expectantly after revealing her equally generic one—Fortune favors the brave.

  To my surprise, everyone else except Sherry seemed equally rattled from having read our strip of paper.

  But still, the silly piece of paper aside, when was the last time we’d all spent time together again like this? Just listening to live music, leaving our worries outside the door?

  Not for years. And it felt good.

  I saw him when he first entered, his eyes scanning the area.

  Then he found me, his gaze sweeping all over me before our eyes met. I felt a little jolt when our gazes connected. I tore my eyes away from him.

  Wait a minute…

  I glanced at my phone, checking the time. He was still an hour too early, and I wasn’t supposed to meet him inside. Just a quick check that I did his dare.

  Trust him not to go on time.

  Then a smile slowly touched his lips, a little smug, knowing that he caught me a little off-guard.

  I narrowed my gaze. Was he taunting me?

  He tipped his drink up slightly as if in cheers.

  All the eyes at the table were on me, and I saw they were grinning from ear to ear.

  “What?” I frowned.

  Not wanting to talk about that certain person who just arrived, I remembered Eva once mentioned Sherry was moving back, and I brought the question up instead.

  My eyes drifted back to him. Why would he come this early anyway? Why would he—

  I nearly choked on my drink when I saw her strut in Serendipitous with a bold red statement.

  Clarisse.

  Why did she always turn up when I least expected it?

  She was not supposed to be here.

  Did he invite her?

  I felt my cheeks heat, and I found I was filled with something close to embarrassment. Why would he do that? I’d told him, I’d played this game with him. He knows we don’t get along well.

  I watched her flirt with the guy at the bar. Then she saw me, her eyes widening in surprise, before she forced a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes.

  I looked away. My fist clenched underneath the table.

  Calm. Stay calm.

  Maybe I couldn’t do this dare after all, because I wanted to walk out.

  Then she looked me over.

  Nice dress, she mouthed, a smirk on her face.

  Shit.

  Before I could help myself, I found myself slipping out of my seat and heading towards her.

  “I wasn’t aware there was a costume party,” came her snide remark, just before she lifted her glass to her lips.

  “Yeah, it’s called ‘fuck you’.”

  “Did it have a rainbow-colored theme? Or a cream puff impersonation?” she went on after taking a sip.

  I snorted. “You know, it’s funny. I think I saw Rona tweet the link to that dress the other day. Another copycat, Clarisse?”

  She looked affronted, her eyes jumping to her clothes at once. Busted.

  “You’re still holding a grudge, aren’t you?” Her nostrils flared, her grip on her glass tight. “It’s been a long time, Rain. I did steal it,” she continued unapologetically. “I didn’t think it really mattered. What are you going to do about it, anyway? It’s done.”

  I didn’t think it really mattered? Where did she think my designs came from—thin air?

  Rain. Her old nickname for me. Now it just grated on my nerves that she had the balls to use it.

  “Don’t call me that,” I snapped.

  “What, Rain?” she laughed, and I felt like she was sullying the memory. We had good times too. Somehow, talking to her felt like she was slowly burying them. Then she pushed hair away from her face. “You know, there was time you called me Risse too.”

  Something flashed in her eyes—regret?

  But I could see past the bullshit now.

  “You were so naïve back then. You just left your work out there, what was I supposed to do?” she went on.

  I felt something in me snap.

  Oh no she didn’t. I don’t know if it was the fortune cookie, or Luke being his usual self, or her admission, or the culmination of all those things at once.

  Clarisse’s eyes widened. Round, chocolate-brown orbs. Deceptively innocent. I liked to eat chocolate, too. Heh.

  Then her hands went up, either going to my own hair, or in defense, I don’t know. But I was damn beating her to it.

  I went at it, my hands on her hair the next moment, around the same time I felt hers on mine. I never was good at holding back. Maybe bald would be a nice look on her.

  “Don’t you dare pin that on me. Take that back!”

  She wasn’t smiling anymore, and maybe she said something, but I couldn’t hear anything else now but the jumble of my own thoughts.

  I felt a smile stretch across my face. This was fun. Watching her squirm was a highlight of my day.

  I felt someone pull me back, but I didn’t want to be stopped. Then the force pulling me away got more insistent.

  But on top of that, Clarisse was tugging my hair pretty hard too, and I wanted to return the pain equally.

  Fuck it. If I was going to have my last shot at attacking her, it was go hard or go home. I reared my head back and head-butted her, and then I swiftly let go.

  The force from pushing me backwards made me topple down and land on my butt and on the people behind me. I found a confused Sherry and Kate who’d fallen over on the floor along with me, as well as Haley and Eva, whose eyes were wide in surprise.

  Well, hell.

  Chapter Nine

  Better Than a Hundred-dollar Bouquet

  We got kicked out.

  I know it was my fault, but honestly, Clarisse was the last person I expected to see tonight, and it was not how I expected things to go.

  I didn’t look back to see if Luke was still there.

  Would he see me differently? Would he still talk to me with that sinful voice? Because even though I would never admit it to anyone, I suspected it would just be my undoing.

  I won the bet. Yet why didn’t it feel like I did?

  I headed back to my apartment.

  All the excitement from earlier was quickly dissipating.

  I tugged the pins from my hair, and my waves tumbled down messily. I unstrapped my stilettos.

  My phone started to rin
g.

  I stared at it.

  With a sigh, I walked closer to check the number. I didn’t recognize it.

  To answer or not to answer? I wasn’t in the mood to talk.

  That the call might be important nagged at me. I took another deep breath, picking the phone up.

  “Sierra,” the cloyingly sweet voice began.

  I knew that voice. And it was one I was hoping never to hear again. Just hearing her say my name out loud made my blood chill. “Darling, I was thinking, since it’s so close to Christmas, me and your dad could come—”

  “How did you get my number?” My voice was shaky, but I had to know.

  There was an outraged gasp before she said, “That’s not the way to talk to the people that raised—”

  “How did you find me?”

  My mom sighed. “We asked around. It wasn’t that hard to find you.”

  I felt like pulling my hair out.

  “What do you want?”

  “I’m glad you asked,” came her honeyed voice. Right now it just sounded grating. “Your dad needs some money, for—”

  “No.”

  I steeled myself from what she would inevitably say next.

  “I knew you’d say that,” she sneered. “Always knew I couldn’t rely on you. Useless.”

  “I thought we made a deal,” I said, unable to mask my frustration. “I gave you money, and you were not to contact me again.”

  “Well, we need it again,” she stated impatiently.

  “Mom, that was a lot of money,” I bit out, knowing I sounded a little hysterical. “What did you do with it?”

  She paused a beat, before she said rather hesitantly, “I can’t say.”

  “You can’t say,” I repeated, disbelief clouding my tone.

  “Yes, I can’t say. Are you going to give us money?” she demanded.

  I heard a distinct yell in the background. “Where are my fuckin’ shoes, Mary?”

  I hung up.

  Luke was right.

  I did care about what people thought. When it came to other people, I could be silly, I could say whatever I wanted.