The Scheme

by Mia Kayla

  I picked up her cash, dug into my wallet, and threw my own cash on the table, well over the check and tip amount, and darted out the door, hoping to catch her. Thankfully, she was standing at the corner, by the stoplight. She was slumped over, holding her stomach. When I jogged closer, I noticed her cheeks glistening, wet from fresh tears.

  I’d made her cry. Way to go, shithead. My stomach clenched as though I’d been punched in the gut. “Kendy!” I called out before I came closer.

  She might give off this tough girl appearance, but I had a feeling she’d be embarrassed if I caught her crying.

  She gave me a once over and crossed her arms over her chest, then spun in the other direction. From the side, though, I could still see her smeared eyeliner. She was obviously pissed, but she looked like a kitten playing mad. And it was cute as hell.

  “I’m not talking to you,” she mumbled, blinking up at the sky and swiping at her cheeks. “There’s so much pollution here . . . Something’s in my eye.”

  I was right—kitten playing tiger.

  I bit my lip to keep the smile off my face. If I lost it, there would be no way I could redeem myself.

  “I’m sorry,” I apologized right away before she could get a word in. I truly meant it, and I hoped she heard it in my voice. “Even though I don’t believe in that sort of thing, that doesn’t give me a right to put you down because you do.”

  She turned in my direction, her eyebrows still furrowed, but I continued, “I’m sorry I laughed at your story.”

  A cab pulled up, and she had every right to step right in and not look back, given the way I behaved.

  When she reached for the door handle, my stomach plummeted. Guilt ate at my insides. I took a step forward. “Let me make it up to you by buying you some dessert. I was a total ass, and I’m really sorry.”

  I didn’t want us parting on bad terms given the way I’d behaved, but there was something else. I couldn’t put my finger on it. All I knew was I didn’t want her to go.

  She pulled the door open and slid into the cab. It took all my energy to stay in my spot, when my first instinct was to go after her. “I’m sorry,” I called back again, hoping she heard the sincerity in my voice.

  Her face showed no expression as she placed her hand on the car door. I was about to turn away, when she peered up at me through her lashes. “So are you going to just stand there, or buy me dessert?”

  I gave her a small smile, approaching the cab. As she scooted over, I hopped in next to her. Hell, yes. I’d just redeemed myself, and the night.

  ***

  KENDY

  Why did I let him in the cab? Free dessert, maybe? Or maybe it was that he looked genuinely apologetic.

  We ended up at Serendipity. I hadn’t been to the staple landmark since I’d move to New York, though it was on my checklist of things to do.

  When he asked where I wanted to go, I told him I wanted to drink hot cocoa. I’d been thinking of my mama and, even though I was miles and miles away, I wanted a part of her with me tonight, especially since I was having such a shitty evening. There was a direct correlation between hot cocoa and home.

  Brian held the door open and, as soon as I stepped into Serendipity, the scent of chocolate wafted through the air, already releasing my happy endorphins.

  The cute waitress sat us down at a round wooden table for two at the very back. I pulled out the white wooden chair and plopped down on the seat. The high ceilings made me feel shorter than I already was. Charming colorful lights above us brightened the room.

  Brian had said very little on our ride here. Maybe he was afraid I’d chew his head off, or maybe he didn’t want to interrupt my deep train of thought as I stared out the window.

  “So, what’re you having?” he asked, finally breaking the awkward silence. He seemed apprehensive, careful even. I knew he’d seen the waterworks earlier. Maybe he was worried he’d break the dam open again?

  “The famous frozen hot cocoa.” I pointed at the picture of the chocolate frozen drink topped with whipped cream and chocolate shavings. Serendipity was known for their frozen hot chocolate. From looking it up on the internet, I knew the drink was served cold. The reference to ‘hot’ was because of the restaurant’s secret dry mix that one would put in regular hot cocoa made at home. I had no doubt, judging from how busy the place was at eleven in the evening, that there would be one big party in my mouth from drinking it. I couldn’t help my knees from bouncing from my anticipation.

  “Is that it?” he asked, his face softening.

  “Yes, thank you.” I smiled up at him, giving him the indication that nice-girl Kendall was out and he didn’t need to worry.

  When the waitress approached our table and asked for our order, he turned toward her. “One frozen hot cocoa and a coffee please.”

  I shot him a bemused look. “You’re going to order coffee at Serendipity? You can order coffee at McDonald’s.”

  He shook his head and peered up at the waitress. “Coffee is fine.”

  The short brunette waitress threw Brian a seductive smile, wrote down our orders, and took our menus. She lingered for a few seconds, leaning toward him before sashaying away, most likely hoping he was paying attention.

  He seemed unaware, his eyes never straying from mine.

  “You can have her if you want,” I said, gauging his reaction to see if he was interested. He gave none. “She’s into you; I can tell.”

  He glanced back at the woman then shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s not my type.”

  I frowned. Not the normal reaction I would’ve expected. I usually had a good gauge on guys. “What’s wrong with you? She’s attractive. Did you switch to the other side?”

  “No, I’m good.” His eyes dropped to the table. “I’m not really looking for anything right now. I figure when it happens, it happens.” He reached for his glass of water. “I got loads of things going on at work. I’m way too busy for anything serious right now.” As soon as the word ‘work’ left his mouth, his shoulders sagged, as though he was fatigued by the thought. He rested back and took a sip of water.

  Hmm. Interesting. I filed that away in the recesses of my brain. “You liking New York so far?” I asked.

  “Yeah. So far, so good.” His fingertips tapped against his water glass. “I haven’t been out much lately.” I sensed wariness as his tone dropped.

  “You’re not dating anybody?” I was, not discreetly, pressing him for more information.

  He squinted, trying to see where my questions were leading. “No, I’ve been so involved with work it’s all I can think about. In Chicago, I was established. Here, it’s like I’m working from the ground up.”

  “Being a workaholic is boring, Brian.” I groaned. “Borderline alcoholic sounds way better.”

  He chuckled. “I came here for work.”

  “I thought you came here to run away from a certain girl.” It slipped out before I could stop it. Damn me and my inability to be tactful. “Sorry.” I grimaced.

  He just laughed, not an ounce of sadness in his eyes, which made me feel a tinge better. “I always wanted to be in New York. I landed in Chicago by default, but . . . I would’ve stayed for the right girl.”

  I bit my cheek, not knowing what to say to that. I couldn’t exactly tell him the truth—that Beth was having her happily ever after with Kent. Still, my insides were swooning at his words, and instantly, I felt a little bad for him.

  “It wasn’t meant to be.” He shrugged, seeming unaffected, yet I sensed a tiny ounce of disappointment.

  I sat straighter. “You know what? You’ll find a girl that’s just perfect for you. I know.” I added, “But you have to be a little more aggressive, or other guys are going to snatch up what you have your sights on.” I knew firsthand—if you had your sights on something, you had to take control and take action.

  “You’re giving me girl advice?” He pointed to himself and let out a carefree laugh, as though it was absurd for me to even suggest I could help hi
m out with his dating life.

  “Yes, I am.” I flipped my hair over my shoulder and leaned into the table. “I know a thing or two about the opposite sex.”

  “Oh, you do, do you?” He rested his elbows on the table, his eyes holding interest.

  Before I could continue, the waitress placed his coffee in front of him. Her eyes flickered to his chest, his face, and then back at me. I gave her a sweet smile, and she flushed pink. I wondered if she thought we were together. If we were together, I wouldn’t be smiling if she was checking out my man. I would have scooted closer, practically sitting on Brian’s lap.

  She set the cup of frozen chocolate in front of me. My mouth watered at the fluffy cloud of whipped cream on top, sprinkled with flakes of chocolate shavings.

  When she left, I widened my eyes at the concoction of heaven as the aroma of sweet chocolate filled my nose. I rubbed my hands together like a small child about to open a toy. “I’m like super excited.”

  “Yeah, I can tell. And all for a cup of cocoa.” I caught him eyeing my cup like he wanted to take a sip.

  No way, buddy. Not before I get a taste.

  “I love hot cocoa; it’s a long story.” I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, the scent bringing me back to my kitchen table, sitting by Mama while our old school Nat King Cole music played in the background.

  I pictured her by the stove, and the yellow, faded, flowery wallpaper a stark contrast to her red apron. My breathing slowed as calmness washed over me.

  I opened my eyes to find Brian studying me. He hadn’t taken a sip of his coffee yet. I shrugged, bringing both hands to the oversized mug. It felt strange, sipping with a straw, so I pulled the straw out and brought the delicious drink to my lips. Taking a deep swallow of the cold liquid, I frowned. It was good, but nowhere near as good as my mama’s.

  Brian laughed at my reaction. I’m sure everyone else would’ve loved it, but as the cold cocoa hit my tongue, all I could think about was Mama’s sweet hot chocolate, fresh from the stove.

  “That bad?” he asked.

  “No, not at all. It’s my issue.” I picked up a chocolate shaving and popped it in my mouth. “It’s good, but it’s nothing like my mama’s. Hers is made from scratch. Real milk chocolate morsels melted in a pan, two percent milk, and topped with marshmallows.” My breathing slowed as I recalled the memory. I peered up at him through my lashes as a soreness spread in the back of my throat at the thoughts of home.

  He ducked his head, sympathy leaking through his eyes. “Do you miss home?”

  I hated how transparent I was when I tried my hardest not to be. I averted my gaze, focusing on my oversized mug. “Sometimes.” My voice turned quiet as a flood of emotions rushed to the surface. “But it was time to leave.”

  I picked at the pink straw, flicking my fingernail against the edge. “It’s always been Mama and me . . . especially when my dad left us.” I narrowed my eyes, zoning in on a chocolate shaving which had fallen on the table. I didn’t want to see the look of pity in his eyes that I knew was clearly there. “It’s why I originally went to see that psychic . . . I needed to know if Dad had left us for good.” My voice was barely above a whisper as familiar pain shot straight to my chest. You’d think the blow would’ve lessened over the years, but it hadn’t.

  Evangeline had predicted that my father was never coming back. He’d left us when I was eleven, moved in with another woman, and never looked back. I had kind of sensed it in my gut that he was never coming back, but I’d tried to deny it. After Evangeline’s prediction, I could finally stop wishing for it and help my mother move on.

  “But then she met Hank.” I exhaled heavily, finally raising my head to meet his eyes. “She never fully got over my father, but I’m happy for her,” I said, smiling. “It’s just . . . sometimes I miss when it was just Mama and me.” I reached behind me, pulling my hair to the front, using it as some sort of curtain. I was suddenly shy for letting my vulnerability shine through.

  I’d known it was time to leave the comfort of my home when Hank had stepped in and I’d started to feel like the third wheel. I’d always thought my mother was a crutch, keeping me in Bowlesville. In reality, I had been the one using her as an excuse to never leave.

  I shook my head to break me from my mood. “It’s exactly as the psychic predicted. Even though it hasn’t happened yet, he’s going to marry her. Hank’s told me his plans. It’s just a matter of time.” At that, I felt the despair lighten a little. “I’m so silly, right? Big girl missing her mama.”

  I chuckled at my own patheticness. His gaze upon me didn’t falter. If anything, his eyes softened as he placed his hand on mine, shooting a tingling sensation up my arm.

  “It’s okay to miss home. Nothing wrong with that.”

  Warmth spread throughout my fingers. When I pulled my hand back, Brian brought the coffee to his lips as I stirred the chocolate drink with my pinky.

  “So, Brian, is coffee your beverage of choice?” I changed the topic quickly to take the focus off me. My voice shook as I spoke. I shouldn’t have revealed such intimate details to someone I barely knew.

  “When I’m at work, yeah. But out of work, beer it is.” He smirked, reclining in his chair. “I’m a workaholic, alcoholic all at once.”

  That garnered a laugh from me. “So, how about you? When did you move here?”

  “Six months or so ago. You?” He cocked his head in my direction.

  “A month ago, but it feels longer. It’s kind of weird moving from a place where you know everyone to a place where you know no one.” I perked up, remembering the nervous jitters I’d felt that first day of work. I could’ve sworn Nana, my late grandmother, had been watching me from above, because Sarah had introduced herself as soon as I saw her.

  “It’s okay, though. I’ve made friends. As you can see, I’m very likable.” I grinned wide, but I felt like I was hiding. Because it had been hard making friends, becoming part of this chaotic society. It was a different world out here, and I sensed my normal confidence fading. “So, no girlfriend? Where’s the boyfriend?” I teased.

  The laugh lines were evident on his face. “You’re funny. You know that?”

  “Funny, beautiful, smart. Yeah, I know.” I lifted my eyes to the ceiling for an exaggerated effect. “So you live by yourself?”

  “With Trey. He’s a really good friend from where I grew up. His parents are divorced. His mother still lives in Madison, but he moved to NYC to work with his father, who’s a big real estate mogul. He’s a transfer, just like me.”

  “How do you know each other?”

  “From high school and . . . he dated my sister for years.”

  I blinked at him with fake shock. “They’re not together anymore, and his balls are still intact?”

  He winced. “Well, my sister dumped him. If it had been the other way around, let’s just say we wouldn’t have been friends anymore.”

  I clicked my tongue. “Two brokenhearted transfers from Madison move to New York City to mend their wounds by scouring the city for women to ease their pain.” I felt a wide grin spread across my face. “You can sell the movie rights to Paramount.”

  He shook his head slightly. “None of that is happening over here. No time for the ladies. Not now, at least.”

  I shrugged. “Yeah, well, my story is much more interesting than yours. Beautiful nurse and her quest to land the doctor of her dreams, versus banker Brian and his addiction to work. My story sounds like a sitcom.”

  His lips curled up into a smile as a deep chuckle escaped him. Brian reached for the sugar to pour more into his coffee. And I thought I was a sugar fiend. I should’ve asked him if he wanted coffee with his sugar.

  “So . . . what’re you going to do about Stiff?” he asked.

  “Stiff?” I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion.

  “The doctor.”

  I gave him an ‘ah ha’ face. “Oh, you nicknamed him that because he gets stiff every time he sees me?” I cracked up at my own joke, a
nd he just shook his head again, that now familiar amusement crossing his features.

  “No, really. What’re we doing about him? I thought we had some sort of deal.” His smile widened, and I wondered what he had in mind.

  “What’s in this for you?” I asked, my curious smile matching his.

  He tipped his head back and then winked. “That’s what I’m sticking around to find out.”

  I let out a carefree laugh as my eyes assessed him. “It’s not what you think.”

  His lips turned downward in a pout that could almost rival mine.

  “Give me time to think this through.” I stuck my pinky into the whipped cream then into my mouth, and then I swirled my pinky and repeated the motion. Maybe the hot cocoa wasn’t the same, but this whipped cream had to have been homemade or something. It was hella good.

  I sighed. What was I going to do with him? Sarah was supposed to be my wingman. I glanced up again and repeated the process of swirling my finger in the whipped cream and sticking it in my mouth. How would it even work if Brian were to help me land my doctor?

  I guess I could get Dr. Hot Pants all jealous, use two wingmen. Yeah, maybe that would work. “I’ll have to mull it over. I’ll sleep on it and get back to you.”

  Pursing my lips, I put the straw in my mug and started to slurp it down. When the drink was finished, I rested the oversized cup on the table. “What’re you doing on Friday? Wanna meet me at Central Park? I’m off next weekend. I can think of the logistics, and we can go over it then.”

  This seemed so cliché, me getting the man of my dreams by using another guy. Still, I’d seen it work before. “Of course we have to keep things platonic, but you’ll have to pretend to like me.”

  He reached over and surprised me by running his finger over my upper lip. I widened my eyes as he brought the whipped cream he’d wiped off me between his lips, making my pulse quicken.

  “I do like you. You taste sweet.” He winked. And I swallowed. Hard.