by Fiona Grace
“I’m finally free,” she sighed with a contented breath of fruity hops.
Otis flopped back against the couch and chucked his gaming controller into his lap. He tipped his head back and turned his gaze to the ceiling.
“Ali!” he moaned.
Ali was perplexed by his reaction. “What? You always complain we never get to spend much time together because Russell works me like a dog. Well, now we can. Speaking of dogs, we should get one! I’ll have the time to walk it now and—”
“Ali!” Otis exclaimed, turning to face her.
“What?” Ali cried, exasperated. “Why do you keep saying my name like that?”
Her boyfriend drew in a long, slow breath, as if ready to launch an attack. “Have you lost your mind? How are you going to pay for everything? The rent? The gas bill? The electricity?” He pointed to the lightbulb as a visual aid.
Ali felt her defenses go up. This was so not the congratulatory celebration she was expecting. She thought Otis would be happy for her for finally quitting the job that had made her miserable for so many years, but instead he was huffing and puffing away like a frustrated toddler.
“Well, why don’t you get a job?” she countered. “You haven’t been able to keep a full-time job since I’ve known you.”
He narrowed his eyes. “That’s not fair. You know it’s impossible to work full time while auditioning.”
Otis had been chasing his dream of becoming an actor for three years now, a pursuit Ali had pretty much been financing.
“You only care about electricity because of that thing,” she countered, pointing to the paused computer game on the television screen—the object of most of the couple’s arguments. “We could have a broken air conditioning unit and you wouldn’t even notice the sweat as long as your game was working.”
“You’re changing the subject,” Otis said, thinly.
Ali huffed. “Fine. To answer your questions. One: have I lost my mind? Nope. I’ve saved it. Because I was one crème brûlée away from a nervous breakdown. And we’re talking Hannah Sweet–level breakdown.”
The eldest of the Sweet siblings had taken the whole corporate path in life, and seemed to think periodic breakdowns were just part of the job.
Ali continued. “Two: how am I going to pay for everything?” She tapped her chin. “That’s a good one. How am I going to pay for everything?” she repeated, with extra emphasis on the key words. “How about this? I won’t! My days of paying for everything are done.” She pinched one of his milky brown cheeks. “It’s about time you pulled your weight around here.”
Otis brushed her hand away, his brow deeply furrowed. “We had a deal. One year for me to see if I could land an acting job.”
“I remember,” Ali said. “And it’s been exactly…” She gazed at an imaginary watch on her wrist. “…three years! Well, what do you know? The cash cow’s run dry.”
She dropped the jokiness and looked him dead in the eye. Otis looked distinctly unimpressed. He was an exceptionally handsome man but Ali found this expression of frowning distaste quite unattractive.
“I just landed a role,” he stated, without emotion.
His statement knocked Ali off guard. Her big blue eyes widened. She was stunned into silence. She put the beer bottle down carefully on the coffee table, feeling her hands shaking a little as she did.
“You—you—” She couldn’t get the words out. “Really? Otis? You got a role?” The excitement started rising in her chest, making her voice higher and higher pitched. “Congratulations!”
She threw her arms around him. It was what they’d been working toward for all these years. What they’d been hoping for. All the sacrifices she’d made had finally paid off. And what perfect timing. She wouldn’t have to stress even half as much about her temporary unemployment now that Otis had found work.
But beneath her embrace, Otis was stiff.
Puzzled, Ali drew back and regarded him with querying eyes. “What’s the matter?”
Otis rubbed his forehead, looking uncomfortable, not meeting her eyes.
“Otis?” Ali pressed. “Why aren’t you celebrating? What am I missing?”
“It’s a TV show,” he said, sounding far from thrilled. “A sitcom.”
“And that’s… bad?” Ali guessed, feeling more confused by the second. “I thought you wanted a sitcom. You always said landing a sitcom was gold. The most regular paycheck in the business. I mean now really isn’t the time to be picky.”
“It’s not in LA,” Otis said simply.
“Okay…” Ali said, still not getting it. “Where is it?”
“New York,” Otis told her. “For six months.”
Was that the reason for his hesitancy? Because the job would be on the East Coast for half a year? Well, he needn’t worry. With video calls and cheap domestic flights, going long distance for a few months was hardly a catastrophe.
“Those six months will fly by,” Ali said, flapping her hand dismissively. “Come on. Let’s get out the celebratory champagne.”
They’d bought the bottle the first day they’d moved into their LA apartment, and it had sat at the back of the fridge for three years, waiting for Otis to get his big break.
She went to stand, but Otis stopped her with a hand on her arm.
“I don’t want to do long distance,” he said in a small voice.
Ali felt her eyebrows pull together. She sank back down into place. “You don’t?”
Otis flashed her a pained expression. “No. I don’t.”
Ali mulled it over. If Otis didn’t like the idea of long distance, that meant she’d have to leave LA and move to New York City. It wasn’t something Ali had considered before, but Hannah was in New York, and it would give her time to spend with her niece and nephew. Besides, they’d only ever moved here to be close to Hollywood for Otis. There was no real reason for her to be in LA now she’d quit her job.
She turned to Otis and smiled kindly.
“I’ll move with you,” she said.
“Ali…”
She shook her head. “It’s okay, Otis. I promise you I don’t mind. Clearly the universe is sending us some kind of sign. Me losing my job the same day you land a role. Lady Fate must want us to be in New York now.”
Ali wasn’t usually one for “signs”—that was far more her brother Theodore’s kind of thing—but she had to admit it felt like more than a coincidence.
She started picturing it; the skyline, the snowy winter, the bagels!
“It’ll be an adventure,” she said, dreamily. “Romantic.”
“Ali…” Otis said again. “We’re not moving to New York together.”
Ali paused, even more confused than ever. “What? Why?”
The pained expression on Otis’s face was even more pronounced than before, and Ali felt an ominous sensation descend upon her. Her heart began to race.
“What’s going on?” she asked. “I’m obviously not getting something.”
Otis drew in a long, deep breath. “I’m breaking up with you,” he announced through his exhalation.
Ali was stunned into complete silence. She blinked. “Y—you’re—”
“Breaking up with you,” Otis repeated.
Ali’s mouth went completely dry. Her mind swirled. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t happening.
“Why?” she squeaked. “I can come to New York. I honestly don’t mind.”
“It’s not that,” Otis said.
“Then what?”
He rubbed his face. “The show is… it’s a gay sitcom. It’s a gay sitcom, for gay men, on a gay TV channel run by a gay crew and acted by…” He sighed. “…a gay cast.”
Ali narrowed her eyes as her brain tried to calibrate. “So… you’re breaking up with me because you need to pretend you’re gay?”
“No!” Otis cried, throwing his arms in the air with frustration. “I’m saying I have to break up with you because … because …” He took her by the shoulders and stared at her, pain in
his pale green eyes. “Because I’m gay, Ali.”
Ali felt all the blood drain from her face. She was too shocked to speak.
Otis continued. “At least, I’m like ninety percent sure I am. Things have been weird between us for ages…”
“They have?” Ali squeaked, her voice little more than a stunned whisper.
“You’re never here,” Otis continued. “We haven’t slept together for months. I spend all my time with Colton.” He was listing his one gay friend as if it proved some kind of point.
“And?” Ali challenged.
“And I mean I spend all my time with him,” he said. “With him. Specifically.”
It slowly dawned on Ali what Otis was implying, but her mind just couldn’t comprehend.
“Are you telling me you’re sleeping with Colton?” she demanded.
Otis took a deep breath, neither confirming nor denying her accusation. But he didn’t need to. His silence spoke volumes.
“Is Colton going to New York with you?” Ali asked. The pitch in her voice was getting higher and higher, making her sound like a very angry Minnie Mouse.
“I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t know what I want. My head’s all over the place.”
“Your head’s all over the place?!” Ali cried, leaping up from the couch. “Yours? I’ve just found out my boyfriend who I LIVE with in a house I PAY for has been using me for three years so he can chase some silly dream of becoming an actor!”
Otis closed his eyes. “I knew you’d take this badly.”
“Oh, did you?” Ali cried, incredulous. “Did you really? You must be a magician! A soothsayer! How clever of you to predict that when you told me you were cheating on me I’d take it badly!”
Minnie Mouse was gone. In her place was the Incredible Hulk. Ali was just about ready to rip off her shirt and punch a wall.
Otis stood from the couch. “Why don’t we talk later when you’ve calmed down?”
He headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” Ali screeched. Her stomach suddenly flipped. “You’re going to Colton’s, aren’t you? You’re literally walking out on me and going to him!”
Otis turned the door handle and looked back over his shoulder at her. “Bye.”
And with that, he headed through the door.
Ali grabbed his discarded computer console controller and threw it at him. It was too late. He closed the door and the controller crashed into it.
The damn thing didn’t even break.
But Ali was determined to get her poetic justice somehow. She headed for the fridge and grabbed the champagne bottle stored there. There was no point letting the expensive bottle go to waste.
She held it up to the dingy lightbulb as condensation dripped down the side and onto her hand.
“To Otis!” she said, popping the cork.
It hit the ceiling with a dull thud and bounced back onto the tiled floor below. As the champagne inside the bottle fizzed up to the rim, Ali took a swig to stop it spilling over. Delicious bubbles danced across her tongue, forcing a rueful smile to inch across her lips.
She turned to the silent, empty apartment and held the bottle aloft.
“Let the commiseration party begin!”
CHAPTER THREE
“Sis, you’re slurring so bad, I could’ve sworn you just said Otis is gay.”
“I did,” Ali hiccupped into her cell phone. She took another glug of champagne. She’d almost drained the entire thing.
“GAY,” she said again, resting her forehead on the kitchen table. “G. A. Double Y.”
On the other end of the line, her brother Teddy was completely silent. Finally, he let out a high-pitched exclamation.
“You know, he never set my gaydar off once. But I totally see it now you mention it. He has a swagger in his hips. And he’s always with that Colton guy, who’s as gay as pink lemonade. Oh…”
“Yeah,” Ali said glumly. “Oh.”
Teddy was always Ali’s go-to when she needed support. You’d think it would be Hannah but ever since she’d become a hard, corporate type, trying to connect with her on an emotional level was like trying to get blood from a stone. Hannah had always been serious, even before their parents divorced. Their mom, Georgia, liked to joke that Hannah was born in a business suit, but Hannah didn’t find it funny because Hannah didn’t find anything funny.
Teddy, on the other hand, was a gregarious laugher, a free spirit, a fun seeker, the life and soul of every party. He was, quite simply, Ali’s favorite human being on the planet.
“I’m so sorry, Ali-cat,” he said, using the affectionate nickname he’d given her as a kid after she’d become obsessed with cats, which she still was to this day. “What are you going to do?”
“Well, Teddy-bear,” Ali replied, using his pet name, whose origins were altogether more obvious. “I’m going to finish drinking this bottle of expensive champagne and then I’m going to give Otis’s computer a bath.” She let out a wry snort.
“Sounds like a solid plan,” Teddy joked. “And after that? Is he moving out? Are you staying in the apartment? Are you going to keep living there? I mean, I know you can afford it on your own…”
He used a pointed tone. Teddy had always been particularly unimpressed with the way Otis loafed off of her, especially since Teddy was an aspiring actor himself and he’d worked every menial job under the sun to pay his way.
With the topic turning to work, Ali gasped. She’d been so sidetracked by Otis’s bombshell, she’d completely forgotten about the other life-changing event she’d gone through that day.
She placed the champagne bottle down on the table clumsily, and it landed with a heavy-handed thud.
“That’s the other thing,” she said, feeling distinctly more sober. “I don’t have a job anymore.”
Teddy gasped. “What? Why? What happened?”
“The inevitable. I made the crème brûlée that broke the camel’s back.”
Teddy fell silent. “Hon. Is this the beginning of a spiral? I’m in Venice Beach at the moment but I can catch a cab if you need me.”
“Oh please,” Ali scoffed. “I’m not Hannah. I know it’s unhealthy to suppress emotions. I don’t spiral.”
For all her successes in life, Hannah’s emotional well-being left a lot to be desired. Their marathon-running, junk-food-abstaining, vitamin-popping sister could not be convinced that an hour a week with a therapist would do as much good for her health as the other three. More, probably, considering just how tightly wound she was.
“Then enlighten me,” Teddy said. “Why has my absurdly talented little sister just quit a steady, handsomely paying job she’d trained hard for years to get? Training that used up her inheritance, as well, if I recall correctly.”
When he put it that way, Ali did start to see how rash she’d been.
“Let me clarify,” Ali began, finding her poise. “I got fired.”
“That’s worse!” Teddy exclaimed. “It’ll look terrible on your CV! You’ll never get another job as a pastry chef now.”
“I don’t want another job as a pastry chef,” Ali told him, firmly. “I don’t want to make crème brûlées every damn hour of every damn day. You said it yourself, I’m talented. I trained hard. I spent a ton of money. I’m more than just a crème brûlée girl!”
“I wish I was recording this,” Teddy murmured. “Tell me. What are you?”
“I’m… I’m a pâtissier! I’m Milo Baptiste’s protégé. I’m… I’m… unemployed.”
The reality hit her just like that. She no longer had a job. Or an income. A wave of panic started rising through her.
“You’re also single,” Teddy added.
“Teddy!” Ali wailed. “Why would you say that?”
“Because it’s true, and you’re going to have to process it. You said yourself, you’re no Hannah. In which case, you’d better let it all out.”
He spoke in a soothing tone, but if he’d been physically present, Ali still would’ve smacked
him.
“Get it all out of your system,” he continued, sounding like a self-help guru.
Her emotions got the better of her. Tears spilled down her cheeks. She let out a stifled, hiccupping sob.
“There,” Teddy said. “Don’t you feel better for having gotten that out of your system?”
Ali sniffed. “A little.”
“Good. Now tomorrow you can wake up as the fierce tigress you are and take on the world.”
“You think I’m fierce?”
“The fiercest,” Teddy told her.
“Thanks,” she mumbled.
“What are you?” Teddy prompted.
“A tigress,” she murmured.
“That’s right. You’re going to land on your feet. Now what’s your goddamn plan, woman!”
“I don’t have one yet.”
“Do you have any savings?”
“No. But I’ll get by. You do.”
“I signed up for instability,” he told her, sternly. “I’m built for it. You’re not. That’s why you studied hard and got a sensible job.”
“Hey, didn’t you have an audition today?” Ali asked, diverting the conversation for a much needed moment of respite.
“Ugh. Don’t even. It was lousy,” he said. “I definitely didn’t get the part. According to the very straight director, in his pale jeans and backwards baseball cap, I didn’t read gay enough. Me!” He let out a rueful laugh. “As if he was expecting a certain level of innate flamboyance. You know, because my actually being a gay man doesn’t make me qualified enough to accurately portray one!”
“Maybe you should audition for Otis’s gay sitcom in New York,” Ali said, glumly.
Teddy paused. “Gay sitcom? In New York?” He gasped theatrically. “Don’t tell me he landed a role on Kweenz.”
“I don’t know what it’s called.”
“Oh, hon. If he did, he is going to be a star and mark my words. You’re a couple of months away from being the poor straight ex-lover of a gay superstar actor. He’s going to talk about you in interviews. ‘I loved her so much, but I couldn’t keep living a lie,’ blah blah blah.”
