by Dani McLean
“So you’ve never watched the show?”
“No, I keep meaning to, but I never have the time.”
“Ok, we have to fix that right now!”
“Sarah—”
“Aren’t you meant to be making breakfast right now? Come on, Audrey.”
Audrey apologetically shrugged at me before heading to the living room where Sarah was already fiddling with the TV to set up the first episode.
I gathered the ingredients for brunch from the fridge and started listening to what Sarah and Audrey were saying.
“OMG, I totally forgot this terrible haircut you had! What the hell were they thinking anyway?” Sarah called over the TV.
“They thought it was more futuristic,” I called back.
Sarah snorted, but her response was quieter, so I could only assume she’d directed it to Audrey and not me, even though I could still hear them from the kitchen. “They changed it before season two because he wasn’t attractive enough.”
As I prepared the bacon and eggs, I overheard Sarah adding her own commentary throughout the episode, but since every other sentence was drowned out with Audrey’s vibrant laughter, I guessed she didn’t mind the interruptions too much.
I caught a glimpse of them when I was laying out some plates and cutlery on the table, and they looked like old friends, half facing the TV and half each other, talking and laughing together as they commented on the episode.
And I knew there was no turning back for me. What I felt for Audrey was more than just attraction. I wanted her in my life.
There was a flash on the screen, and I groaned as I caught sight of myself. That really was a terrible haircut.
Once breakfast was ready, I called them back, and together we placed everything on the table, Sarah and Audrey settling into seats across from each other.
“So Jackson mentioned you’re getting married soon?” Audrey asked.
“Next month, I can’t believe it.”
“That soon! I’m surprised you’re so calm. I was a mess of nerves.”
“You’re married?” I have to give it to Sarah; she really was selling this whole “I know nothing about you” routine.
“Divorced.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“Please don’t be. It was …” A shadow passed over her eyes, and I wanted to find that no good ex of hers and hurt him, even if I didn’t know the details of what happened between them.
Audrey continued. “It was for the best. Actually, that’s the reason I was at the bar that night. I was celebrating one year of freedom.” Audrey smiled ruefully before looking up at Sarah in apology. “Shit, sorry. I don’t mean that marriage is something to be free of, just mine. Yours will be wonderful, I’m sure.”
Sarah waved her off, completely unbothered. “Mom and Dad freaked out when Matt initially proposed and ended up inviting all their divorced friends over to,” she air quoted, “‘tell us that marriage isn’t some fairytale’. I thought it was hilarious, but Matt still can’t look at a gravy boat without feeling sick.” She noticed Audrey’s confused response. “Don’t ask.”
They veered into a conversation about table settings and floral arrangements while we ate, while I was content to enjoy how well this was going.
I should have known better.
“So …” Sarah started innocently, and I was at least grateful that Audrey hadn’t shown any discomfort with Sarah’s blunt style of questioning so far this morning. “What was it like getting divorced?”
“What was it like?” Audrey and I spoke at the same time. “Sarah …”
“Sorry, no offense.” Sarah had the decency to shy away from my disappointed glare. “It’s just I’ve never met anyone who did it so young. All Mom and Dad’s friends were in their sixties with kids and all that. Was it hard?”
Audrey’s hand found my knee under the table, and I was at least thankful that she wasn’t offended by my sister’s overly nosy nature. I placed my hand over hers and gently squeezed.
“Well, it wasn’t easy.” Audrey’s eyes were downcast, and I didn’t expect her to continue. “But I was lucky that Brad didn’t want to drag it out. He set the terms when he left, and that was that.”
I wasn’t an angry person by nature, but I definitely wanted to punch this guy in the face.
“Do you ever speak to him?” Sarah asked, and I knew this would be the last question I’d allow. It was obvious this wasn’t something Audrey was comfortable talking about, and despite my own strong curiosity, it was absolutely not Sarah’s place to dig into it.
“No." It was said with a coldness I’d never heard from Audrey.
“I wonder what Matt and I will do if we divorce?” Sarah sounded shockingly calm and almost curious about the idea, and I was extremely glad Mom and Dad weren’t here to hear it. Mom would probably faint.
“I don’t think you need to worry about that, at least not for a long time.” I decided a change of subject was at hand. “Did I tell you I missed out on the role in Subversion? Terry called me last week.”
Both of them whipped their attention to me so fast. I thought I was seeing double for a second. “What?!” They said in unison.
“Apparently, Addison Michael’s has someone specific in mind, so I’m out.” I shrugged. “They might have been chasing this actor the entire time and just put out interest as a ploy to get him to agree.”
“Well, that’s bullshit.” Audrey dryly replied.
Sarah pointed in her direction, “Yeah. What she said.” Then she placed one hand on my arm, “I’m sorry, Jace. There’ll be other stuff.”
“And there’s nothing you can do?” Audrey asked.
“That’s what I have to work out. I’m not about to walk away if there’s something I can do. Until the contract is signed, I still have a chance; you just have to know who to talk to, so the next step is getting a hold of Addison and convincing him.”
An hour later, Audrey excused herself to collect her things, saying she needed to get home and shower, and although I wanted to convince her to stay the rest of the day with me, I walked her out.
“Your sister is really great. It’s obvious how much she cares about you. Makes me wish I had siblings. I mean, apart from Tiffany.”
“I hope that wasn’t too much. Sarah can be a little …” I searched for the word, “overprotective.”
“She’s looking out for you. It’s sweet.” Her gaze dropped, nervous. “I had a really nice time this morning.”
“So did I. We should wake up together more often.”
“I’d like that.”
And before I could say anything more, Audrey kissed me goodbye and walked down the street.
I let it go for the moment. After this morning, I’d seen how easily Audrey and my lives fit together and seeing her and Sarah get along so well only convinced me further that we were perfect for each other. Audrey might not be ready for something serious, but she hadn’t run screaming, so that had to be a good sign, right?
Sarah looked smug when I returned. “Mom and Dad are going to love her.”
I still hadn’t shaken my annoyance at her over her nosiness earlier and so busied myself with clearing the table. Once the sink was full of dirty dishes, I threw the dishtowel at Sarah. “It’s your turn to dry up.”
She caught the towel and playfully whacked me on the should with it, “Jace and Audrey, sitting in a tree-“
“You’re twenty-three, not twelve,” I grumbled.
“F-U-C-” I put a hand over her mouth, and she dissolved into giggles. I returned to the sink, turning off the tap and passing her plates as I cleaned them.
“I’m really happy for you, Jace.” Her tone was soft and warm. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy, except about work. She must be really special.”
21
Audrey
I was in trouble.
Now that Jackson and I had started staying the night, I was finding it difficult to stop myself from wanting to wake up with him.
My work.
After snoozing my alarm this morning, I’d allowed myself the luxury of a lie-in. Not that we did much sleeping. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d come into work late, but I decided that the two orgasms I’d had that morning more than made up for whatever guilt I felt.
So, of course, something had gone wrong.
It turned out I’d picked the worst possible morning to not be in the office because no one had been around to talk down an irate delivery driver from dumping a truckload of stock at our doorstep this morning.
Apparently, one of our customers had made last-minute changes to their inventory order, but the client hadn’t been told in time and didn’t actually have the stock to meet the new request. In retaliation, the restaurant decided they didn’t want any of the order and were refusing to take the stock off the delivery guy’s hands or pay the transport fee. The client refused to take the stock back because everyone had forgotten they were adults today.
In short, it was a nightmare.
By the time I had sorted it out, hours had gone by, but the delivery driver had been paid, I’d convinced the customer to take the available stock, and I’d even managed to get the client to accept a discounted rate, once it had been discovered that their figures were the issue.
And while I was grateful that the crisis had been averted, it had only become a crisis because I’d chosen to play hooky this morning instead of being here. I would have to be more careful in the future.
To my reluctant surprise, Winnie and Jet had been extremely helpful. Having them there to field calls for me while I mediated was a small blessing.
As a thank you, I’d let them take a long lunch while I tried to rearrange my afternoon.
Lately, Winnie and Jet had been pressing to do more with the launch, but I had trouble handing off my work to someone else. This was my baby. My way of showing David I could do this.
Anthony, one of the junior account managers, ducked into my office around one p.m. while I was reading over the contract for the event space I wanted for the launch. It was a charming little spot that once had a life as a chop shop for motorbikes and scooters. It had since been bought and converted into a useable function space, complete with bathrooms and a kitchen. Thankfully, the new owners hadn’t replaced the bright red roller door that spanned an entire wall or covered up the exquisite, exposed brick that made up the remaining walls.
The contract was standard, but the owner was pushing back on allowing us to use our own caterers since they had some sort of arrangement with another company I hadn’t planned on using. I expected them to make us pay extra for the “inconvenience,” but I was confident I could negotiate a reasonable compromise.
I waved Anthony over to a chair in my office. “What’s up?”
“I was wondering if I can borrow the interns next week.”
A flare of protectiveness came over me. “What for?”
“My parents are flying into town tonight, and between them and the new baby, Michelle needs some help.” I’d heard a lot about his parents from his wife, Michelle, and I suspected she mostly needed Anthony to run interference for her while she cared for their four-month-old.
I smiled. ”Of course. What will you need them to do?”
“I have a list of clients to meet with, mostly routine check-ins to see if they have any concerns, and a meeting with the distributor to follow up on some delivery delays.”
“Ok, I think we can make that work. They’re on their way back from a visit now. I’ll send them to your office when they get here.”
“Thanks, Audrey.”
“You’re welcome. And good luck next week.”
“Thanks, I’ll need it.”
When he left, I pulled out my phone, messaging Jackson that I would be working late tonight. Maybe he could come over tomorrow instead? With Winnie and Jet occupied by Anthony’s work, I’d need to take back some of the jobs I’d given them, and I still needed to decide on a caterer and lock in this contract with the venue. I had had an idea this morning about the cocktail list that I was really excited about, and I hoped I could sort it out before the end of the day.
His response came back after a few moments.
Jackson: Ditching me already? Found another sex god to take my place?
Me: Just for tonight, he’s busy tomorrow
Jackson: Lucky me. And will I get to see the red set again?
Me: I might have something better in mind
Jackson: Tease
Me: Takes one to know one
Jackson: Touche
Jackson: Let me know how late you work. I’m on set for a possible reshoot tonight that might run over. If we’re both up at the same time, you can make it up to me
I was still smiling to myself as I called Tiff.
She answered after a single ring. “Is everything ok?”
“Yes, everything’s fine. Why?”
“You never call me during work hours.”
I laughed. “Well, that’s probably because I’m never calling you about something work-related. Are you busy right now?”
“Only pulling my hair out trying to draw up the shift schedule for the next month. Please save me.”
“Are you at home? I can meet you.”
“The bar. I’m pulling a double, so I had to come in early.”
“Oh, if you’re working, we can—”
“Not for another hour. Come over. We can expense some bar snacks to your work tab because I’m assuming you haven’t eaten lunch yet.” She was right, unfortunately.
“Great. Be there in ten.”
She poured me a drink when I walked in. “Tiff, you know I don’t drink while I’m working.”
“It’s two in the afternoon. It’s practically the weekend; live a little.” It was a line she’d tried on me multiple times, and it never worked, but that didn’t stopp her from trying. She pushed it towards me as I took a seat at the bar. “Just take a sip. It’s a spin on a sazerac I’m testing out, and I need an objective taste tester.”
“Ha, like I’m going to be objective.”
“You’ll be honest, and it’s the next best thing.” She nudged it closer to me, and I felt my resistance crumbling. “Please,” she whined, drawing the word out with a twang of her mother’s southern drawl.
I sighed and shook my head, smiling. “Fine. But just a sip. It’s technically what I wanted to talk to you about anyway.”
She gave me a quizzical look while I raised the glass to have a taste. The dark golden liquid looked and smelled fine enough, nothing out of the ordinary for a sazerac from memory. But as soon as it touched my tongue, I was overwhelmed with a strong combination of bitterness and heat, and my face conveyed my displeasure immediately. I struggled to swallow what I’d tasted while putting the offensive drink back on the bar.
Tiff hummed in thought and pulled the drink back towards her, eyeing it. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I shouldn’t have added the chili oil.”
I struggled to rid of the taste from my mouth, and she passed me a glass of water, which I drained in seconds. “You knew it was bad, and yet you still made me try it?”
“What?! I needed a second opinion!”
“Jesus, Tiff, warn me next time.”
Her laugh floated through the empty room. “And where would be the fun in that?” She leaned back against the counter, facing me. “So, what did you want to talk to me about?”
“I want to hire you for the launch. All of the caterers I’ve talked to can supply us with wait and bar staff, but none of them are capable of crafting a cocktail list.”
”Not unless you want the standard martini, cosmo, old fashioned BS.”
“Exactly. And the whole point of this event is to make the rum the hero and have the cocktails showcase how special it is. N
ot just—”
“Throw it into some tired old recipes.”
“Yes. Thank you. I knew you’d get it.”
“Sure.”
“Really?”
“Audrey, come on. Of course! I love you, first of all, and secondly, I actually have a few new recipes I’ve been trying out.” She threw the remainder of the offensive sazerac the drain nearest to her, “I promise this one won’t be on the list.”
“Well, thank God for that. And thank you. I’m just hoping we can afford you.”
“You can’t, but I’ll make an exception for my best friend. So it’s a drinks and nibbles thing, yeah?” I nodded. “Well, just off the top of my head, I’m thinking an aperitif to start, light and fresh, maybe with one of their other spirits to showcase the rest of their range. Then a series of four cocktails, each tailored to a specific flavor profile, and lastly, a rich little digestif, maybe a shot of some kind, but we won’t call it a shot. I can make up some wanky name for it, and we can serve it in those tiny ceramic tea cups the Japanese use for matcha ceremonies, match in with the terracotta theme.” Somewhere in there, she’d gotten her phone out and started furiously making notes, nodding to herself while I sat, staring at her in awe.
I shouldn’t have been surprised. Tiff was a genius when it came to alcohol. There was a reason she’d won the city’s Best Bartender award the last three years in a row.
“Have I told you I love you lately?”
She looked up from her phone to wink at me. “Never hurts to hear it again.” Setting her phone down, she asked, “So what’s going on with pretty boy? Things still going well?”
“I met his sister the other day.”
She hesitated briefly, but her expression didn’t offer any clues as to what she thought of that. “And how did that go?”
“Well! I really like her. You would, too, I think. She’s got a catty sense of humor.”
“That’s good. Big step, meeting the family.”
And this was the point I was stuck on. In theory, I would have thought the same thing. Being introduced to friends and family seemed like a natural next step—if we were dating. Which we weren’t. Or maybe we were. I knew what I wanted, but I still had no idea how Jackson felt.
