by Mignon Mykel
“What the hell is your problem?” I let my irritation come through, but I didn’t fucking care.
She whipped back toward me, her hair flying. “You are, Rory! You!”
“Me? What the fuck did I do?” My voice was raised as loud as hers.
“You’re such a goddamned child, Rory. You don’t behave like that in public. You are a grown man. Not only that, but you run a respected establishment. Just like that restaurant. How would you like it if someone acted the way you did?”
“We don’t run out of shit.” I stood in my spot, arms crossed over my chest.
“Oh, so O’Gallaghers is better than everyone else. Just like you fucking think you are.”
I lifted my brows, but kept my arms crossed. “Oh-ho, tell me how you really feel, Emily.”
She threw her purse down on the couch and came up to me, toe to toe, eye to eye. Her slight chest brushed my forearms and I watched as her mouth tightened in anger, her chest heaving with pent up anger and emotion.
Well guess what, Cupcake? You and me both.
“You are a cocky asshole who thinks he’s better than everyone! You are the least genuine person I have ever had the misfortune of knowing. You are all about the bottom line and don’t care how you get what you want. You’re self-centered, materialistic, and heaven forbid you take on a client for your,” she waved her hand in the air, “other business—who actually needs your fucking help. But no, because they don’t fit in with your ideals and who you think is worthy of your time, you push them aside to figure things out on their own.”
“At least people know what they’re getting with me. I don’t lead people on. The women all know what I’m about, and my clientele and team thank me for what I bring to the table, because I’m helping further their careers. You, on the other hand, are a fucking block of ice. Who the hell knows what they’re gonna get with you? Sweet in the middle? I thought so, but apparently that was all a fucking façade too. Embarrassing is leaving a restaurant before they’ve even given you your meal.”
She just shook her head minutely, not saying a word as her eyes stayed locked with mine.
Finally, she spoke up, her voice strong, but quieter than before. “You need to grow up and become an adult, Rory.” She stepped away. “I’ll be sure Conor knows to not put us on the schedule together, ever. I don’t want to deal with you anymore.”
She turned away and part of me wanted to follow her, to finish this fucking fight, but the other part was as done with her as she was with me.
Good fucking riddance.
Rory
That night was fucking hell.
I tried scrolling through my phone for a quick hook-up, but every time my thumb hovered over the connect button, it was Emily’s face I saw.
No, not the yelling one I recently encountered, but her shining blue eyes, her wide smile as she laughed, and her fucking gorgeous blonde hair.
I really hated conceding to people’s opinions, but I spent the entire night—no joke, the entire fucking night—replaying her words.
Was I really that shallow?
Like I said, the women I slept with knew the score going in.
And I really didn’t see anything wrong with choosing clients who were well on their way in their fitness journeys. It made sense. You give them a product, they have a quick turn-around time, they post the hell out of that shit on social media, and you had more orders.
But maybe I should look into taking on a client or two who actually, truly, needed the service. It would take longer to get to the end goal, but maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.
I went through every fucking email, deleted ones too, trying to find people I could add to my client base. It was three in the damn morning, but I still responded to their emails.
I ended up finding five additional people to add to my clientele. What was adding five more going to do for my time? Not a whole lot. It wasn’t going to eat much more than my current base was.
At four, I emailed the owner of the Steakhouse, apologizing and offering a hefty tab at O’Gallaghers if he ever wanted to stop by.
I suppose part of this was easy because I wasn’t doing it face to face, but there was one face to face I was going to have to do.
That I wanted to do.
Putting aside my laptop for the night, I closed my eyes and took a nap.
She was opening tomorrow. I’d find her then.
Emily
I arrived to O’Gallaghers early the next day, thankful to see Stone was opening with me. He didn’t do many early shifts so I didn’t get to work with him often, but he was a fun guy. He made everything light and easy.
Things I was definitely needing today.
I was under a bit of an emotional hangover today after letting out every single thing I’d been holding back with Rory. I should have known the good was going to fade, that he couldn’t be as great as he was showing me over the week.
I entered O’Gallaghers through the back, not thinking about the fact I’d be passing Rory’s staircase, but thankful just the same when I didn’t see him. The kitchen was quiet but music was playing in the bar area. Stone was probably setting up his coolers ‘just the right way.’ It was funny to me how such a big guy could be so OCD about something as trivial as lemon and lime placement.
“Hey, Stone,” I started, as I pushed through the doors, but my words were cut off by the man sitting at the bar, facing the doors as if he were waiting for me.
“Emily.”
I clenched my jaw and lifted my chin. “Rory.” I moved down the bar toward Stone, who was indeed working out his coolers. “What can I do to help?”
“If you want to get towels together, that would be great.”
Ignoring Rory, I moved to the back to do as Stone asked, grabbing enough for the first hours before they were due to be changed out. As I was about to push through the door again, it opened back toward me and Rory stepped in.
I was expecting a pissed off look on his face; instead, there was a thoughtful one.
“I’d like to talk to you.” Before I could answer, he added, “Stone is aware and is ok if you take a few minutes.”
This was a really difficult place to be. On the one hand, I wanted so badly to tell him off again. I didn’t want to—couldn’t—deal with the emotional backlash again. But on the other, he was my boss and I did need this job for at least the next few months. There was only so much Conor could do; he wasn’t the only one running O’Gallaghers.
I set the towels and bucket of sanitizer water down and headed toward the office, the only place we could shut the door and have privacy. I refused to think of other things we did in this very space.
“About last night.” He took a deep, audible breath. “I did some thinking.”
I crossed my arms. He could think all he damn wanted. He could keep thinking for all I cared.
“I want to change.”
I stuck my tongue in between my teeth, biting down gently. I wasn’t entirely sure how to respond so I didn’t. I wasn’t expecting him to say that.
“You helped me come to the realization that I have room to grow as a person. You and Con, really. He said something earlier in the week that rang along the same lines as what you said.” Rory stuffed a hand in his jeans pocket and ran the other through his hair, holding it against the back of his head as he kept his focus on me.
“I really enjoyed the time we had together. When I wasn’t being a dick, that is. I’d like to work on being a better person, a person who you believe in. I never had a hard time looking in the mirror until after you told me what you saw negatively in me. It really had me thinking.”
I shook my head and sighed. “Rory, no. We can’t…” I shook my head again. I felt myself completely thaw toward him. There wasn’t anything worse in the world than feeling like you had to change for someone and I hated that I did that to him.
I was glad he wanted to make the changes, but I didn’t want him to make them for me. We didn’t have a future. The
moments we had, short as they were, had some fun mixed in, but I was leaving in a few months. “It would probably just be better for everyone if we just ended this here and now. I’m done in four months. I don’t know where I’ll go after graduation, if I’ll be staying in San Diego or if I decide to go elsewhere for school. Heck, it depends on where I get into the anesthesia program. You’re my boss and it’s just better, healthier, for everyone involved if we just kept it that way.”
I wasn’t sure what his reaction would be, but the thoughtful look on his face wasn’t what I would have bet on.
“Ok.”
I couldn’t help it; I frowned. “Just like that?”
His smile wasn’t coy, it wasn’t cocky. It wasn’t full and assured, either. It was actually kind of sad. “I’m going to prove to you that I can change. I’ll give you your space but I’m not going to let this go.”
I couldn’t stop my grin this time. There he went again, all sure of himself.
“Rory, no.” I uncrossed my arms and stuck my fingers in my back pockets. “Do you, Rory. When you’re not being an ass, you have a certain energy about you. Don’t change that for me. Don’t change that for anyone. You have the ability to be a great guy, but I just don’t think you and I could be healthy together. Too much negativity between us.”
Rory stepped close to me but I held my ground. I wasn’t sure what his next move would be.
I was honest with my words.
When Rory was being a good guy, he truly was an awesome man to get to know. If he stuck with that, he’d make one lucky woman very happy.
He’d have to figure out the monogamy thing, sure, but I thought he was on his way to being an adult.
“Whatever you want to think, Em. But I’m going to prove you wrong.” With that, he put his hands on my shoulders and leaned in to kiss my forehead.
Before I could react, he was gone.
Eighteen Months Later
April
Emily
I graduated my nursing program with honors.
Surprising, yes.
But with the help of a changed schedule, and the ability to get places faster, I was able to put more energy into studying and passed my remaining tests with flying colors. One of the prerequisites for the nurse anesthesia program was a minimum of one year in a critical care setting, so I chose to apply to a number of ICUs in the Bay Area, eventually accepting a position in a pediatric ICU. It was extremely difficult to work with critically ill children, but it also was incredibly rewarding.
When it was time to apply to my next school, I was quickly accepted to a Nursing Anesthesia program in Arizona, thanks to my previous grades and letters of recommendation from peers. With my new income, I was able to get my auto loan out of Conor’s name and fully into mine too. Conor joked that he was sad to be cutting yet another tie with me, but I assured both him and Mia that I would come back around. The O’Gallaghers had become a pseudo-extended family of sorts, and I enjoyed spending time with them.
Rory too.
Over my final months in San Diego, not once did he approach me about furthering this…thing…we had between us, and if he was continuing with his sexual endeavors the way he had before our little office party, he’d become incredibly secretive of it.
He’d been in the pub more often, doing more of the day-to-day tasks while Conor took over much of the bookkeeping. With two babies at home under the age of three, Conor and Mia had their hands full.
Rumor had it Rory was also doing more one-on-one coaching with his clientele.
I suppose it wasn’t so much of a rumor, as I saw him spending time at the beach helping a heavier woman with exercises she could easily do without equipment or a gym.
I was proud of who he was becoming.
But that was now all in my past.
O’Gallaghers, and its people, was now a piece of my history and I was moving on to the next phase of my life. I’d been in Arizona for about twelve weeks and I found I loved my new surroundings.
Nursing anesthesia school was no joke, and the last few months proved it. Between work and studying, I had little time for a social life, but that was something I was used to.
I was coming home from my day of classes, folders and papers and syllabi in hand, completely prepared to get a head start on studying for my finals that were scheduled for next month. It would be just about another year until I received my clinical experience, but I wanted to be absolutely sure I knew the science behind everything I was going to learn.
I parked my car in the driveway of the house I was renting and was a little concerned that there was a car parked along the street that I didn’t recognize.
But then again, I was new to town and didn’t recognize many of the cars in the neighborhood yet.
After parking my car in the garage, I stepped out, shouldering my backpack, and was rounding the end of the car to head inside when a tall shadow fell into my garage.
With a startled yelp, I put my hand to my chest and turned, hoping to God it was just a friendly neighbor and not some psycho out to get the new neighbor.
I maybe watched a scary movie last night.
In my dark house.
With minimal furniture.
I don’t know what I’d been thinking, either.
“You startled me,” I said to the faceless stranger, only to gasp aloud when the person moved from the shadows, showing his face.
Rory
I spent a lot of time giving Emily her space.
And in that time—eighteen months, to be exact—my hand and arm got a little sore because that was the only action my cock was getting.
I was hell bent on proving to her that I could be a good guy, a guy she could believe in, and hell, a fucking grown up.
I certainly proved it to Conor, who gave me more responsibilities at the bar because he trusted I would run the bar as he would. And because of that, I felt like shit when I gave him the news.
I had one last person to prove myself to, and I hoped to fucking God she would be as understanding, as open, as Con had been.
Emily left O’Gallaghers a year ago. She stopped in on occasion, but she no longer worked for us. And then she moved.
She fucking moved, and I felt that shit.
I knew that I was hung up on her, knew it the week I begged her to dinner. But her moving did things to me.
Sure, it was only a few states and only a five hour drive, but I wanted her close.
Shit, that made me sound like the insensitive ass she accused me of being earlier last year.
I wanted her close and I was willing to make those changes to have it happen.
Better?
Thought so.
I moved out of the apartment above the pub and it actually stood vacant right now. Brenna stated her living arrangements worked for her and Con and I didn’t exactly want a stranger living up there.
So I vacated the apartment.
I gave Con my news.
And I hopped on a plane.
Arizona was warm in the early spring, not much different than San Diego, but I didn’t find myself sweating over the heat as I stood outside the house my GPS brought me to.
No, I was sweating over fucking nerves.
How would she react? What would she say? Should I maybe have called instead?
Probably.
Fuck.
She’d go and probably say how self-assured I was, when really this was the most fucking vulnerable I’d been in years.
When the little white Fusion came pulling into the garage, I walked around, wanting to see her. I didn’t intend to scare the girl and when she gasped, I took a step back and held up my hands. “It’s just me, Em.”
She dropped her chin and frowned. “Rory?”
Her hair was pulled up on top of her head so I couldn’t get my fill of that. Instead, I was able to appreciate just about every other facet of her. She wore white shorts and a flannel, and was sexy as hell in the ensemble.
Arizona looked good on her.<
br />
“Hey, Emily.”
Hey, Emily?
You mean to tell me, after all the thinking on the plane and the drive over here, all I could come up with was Hey, Emily?
She dropped her backpack to the ground beside her and, still frowning, made her way toward me. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you back home?”
“I don’t currently have a home.” Hey, it was the truth. Go big or go… Well, you know.
If anything though, her frown deepened. I reached out and smoothed my thumb over the ridges. “That’ll get stuck, Em.”
She shook her head, which had me pulling my thumb away, but she didn’t look pissed. No, she looked confused. “Why are you in Arizona? Why aren’t you back in San Diego?”
I took a deep breath and launched in with the words I wanted to say. “I have tried really hard over the last year, year and half, to be the type of man you could count on. You don’t need a man, hell, you’ll probably tell me you don’t have time for a man, but I want to be there for you. I want to show you I’ve changed. I want to hold your hand. I want to make you dinner on those nights you’re scrambling to figure out how you’re going to juggle food and work and studying and walking the dog.”
“I don’t have a dog.”
I grinned and held up my finger. “We can take this at your pace, Em, but this is something I want to do. A journey I want to take. Please give me that opportunity.”
She was quiet, staring at me. I had the gut sinking feeling she was going to say no.
Conor would take me back. Hell, he’d probably welcome me back with open arms. Brenna had taken some of my responsibilities, but I wasn’t sure how that would pan out in the end. I also had a place to live above the bar.
But what was life without the person you had a feeling you were meant to spend it with?
When she still didn’t answer, I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. With a sad grin, I reached for her hand, needing some sort of contact with her one last time before I walked away. I squeezed once and stepped back.
