by Rose Croft
It was seven in the evening when I saw another notification from Loren.
“Here are the first couple of chapters. Let me know if you’re still interested, and I’ll send more.”
“Got it. Gonna read them now. I’m interested in anything you write. You know that.”
I sent the message and clicked on the attachment. And read. I was hooked after the first line, and I was lost in the story.
“What are you reading?” I almost jumped at the sound of Alyssa’s voice. I was so into Loren’s manuscript that I hadn’t heard her come in.
I turned around and felt that gnawing remorse again. “Uh, just looking over a friend’s book.”
“Oh, cool.” She had several garment bags in her arms. “I love doing shoots for Chanel! Look at what I got.” Alyssa was already pulling things out of bags to show me, as excited as a child on Christmas morning.
She posed and draped the garments over her body. Wanting me to feel her delight for her beautiful clothes that cost more than a car payment and insurance combined.
“Aren’t they fabulous?”
“Yeah.” I tried to focus on her. I tried to muster up the same happiness she felt, but I couldn’t. I only felt agitated that she was keeping me from Loren’s story. That was a problem. I knew it was a fucking problem. I closed the laptop, willing myself to center my attention on my girlfriend because that was the right thing to do if I wanted to make this relationship work.
Present
“How was the funeral last weekend?” It was Thursday evening and I had met Rose at a swanky bar in uptown. I was going out of my mind wondering why I hadn’t heard from Andrew. I’d sent the first chapters of my book Monday night. Maybe he was busy. Maybe he read it and didn’t care for it.
“It was a nice service.” I took a sip of my cosmo.
“Did you see Andrew?” Rose knew everything about Andrew and me. I’d recounted everything, every moment we’d spent together in high school. Probably to the point of nausea, especially when we’d had too many drinks. But, she listened every time and gave me her shoulder to cry on.
“Yes.” I groaned. “And, he’s dating a beautiful model.”
“That sucks.” She frowned. “Did he speak to you? I know you were worried that he wouldn’t.”
I nodded. “He took me to lunch.”
Rose raised one brow. “I bet that was awkward for you having lunch with Andrew and his girlfriend.”
“It was just Andrew and me. Alyssa couldn’t stay for the funeral because she had a photo shoot in New York.”
“Is that so?” Rose clicked a red fingernail on the table impatiently. “You better tell me what happened.”
I told her about our conversation. “He told me he wants to help me with my book. Review it for me.”
“He did? That’s great, Loren.” Rose leaned in closer over her drink and asked in a prim yet conspiratorial voice, “Does he know you’re writing smut?”
I laughed. “Shut up! You know you love that stuff, too.”
“I know, and I’m still pissed you haven’t let me look at your story yet.”
“I will, soon. And yes, he knows. He saw the ménage scene on my laptop when he took me home.”
Rose slammed her palms down on the table. “Whhaaattt? He took you home?”
“He took me home because he didn’t want me to drive since I may have had too much wine.”
Rose smirked and shook her head in her condescending high-school-teacher kind of way. “Way to stay classy, Lolo.”
“Stop looking at me like that. Nothing happened.” Not that I would’ve stopped something from happening, if Andrew had been on board.
Rose tapped my hand. “What did he say when he read the scene?”
“He liked it and told me not to worry about what people thought.”
“That’s encouraging, right?”
“I guess.” I thumbed my napkin. “I told him what happened with my parents.” I paused, folding a thin paper corner over and over. “I told him I’d loved him and regretted never telling him that.”
“What did he say?” Rose asked, bending her head in closer.
“He said he’d loved me, too.” She gasped with lips forming an “O” as though we’d had a happily-ever-after moment the other day. I stared down at my drink. “I think he just needed closure.” I thought back to when we almost kissed, but he’d reminded me that he had a girlfriend. I couldn’t tell Rose about that. It was too embarrassing.
“I think you’re crazy. He still has feelings for you, and he wants to help you with your manuscript.”
“He’s been dating Alyssa for six months. I think they’re serious. Besides, we just correspond by email, and I haven’t heard from him since Monday night. Maybe he changed his mind about helping me.”
“Maybe he’s been busy. It’s only been a few days.” Rose shrugged as she brought her glass to her lips. “Or, he still has feelings for you and feels guilty because he’s in a relationship. Maybe he’s trying to sort it out.”
I tilted my head and let her words sink in. “You think so?”
She nodded and her shiny, red lips curled up. “I have a hunch, and you know I’m usually right.” Perhaps she was right. I wanted her to be right. This time. Only this time, then I would suffer through her bragging.
Her smile was contagious. “So, tell me about your date with Mark the dentist the other night.” Rose Donahue was a gorgeous girl who always turned heads with her raven hair, pale skin, and curvaceous body. She also had a larger-than-life personality and could carry on a conversation with anyone. But she had a fear of commitment because she’d lost her fiancé several years ago when he committed suicide right after we’d graduated from college. She internalized her pain, never talking to anyone about it, myself included, and blamed herself for not seeing the signs or being there with him the night it happened.
Those were terrifying times because Rose fell into a deep depression for several months. Understandably, that could mess up anyone, but she lost control of her existence—she stopped going to work, wouldn’t shower or get out of bed. Her parents drove down to Houston where she was living at the time and moved her back home with them in Dallas. However, the cycle continued. I begged and pleaded with her to speak to a therapist. Finally, when I got the support of her mother to help me make her see getting help was a good thing, Rose finally agreed. Little by little, she regained her life.
“Not good at all, Loren, and I should kill you for talking me into going out with my dentist.” Her perfectly shaped dark brows dropped under the rim of her glasses.
“Oh, no. I thought you would have fun. He’s cute and successful.” Knowing her, I knew it would take a lot of work for her to jump back into a relationship, but at least she was getting out there and trying.
“He is, but the whole night at dinner his eyes were either trained on my mouth like he was trying to study my teeth, or they were on my boobs. Then, it got weirder when he took me back to my apartment. He suggested he could come in and brush and floss my teeth, and then we could have some mind-blowing sex.”
“Are you serious?” Who said something like that? What a pervert.
She ran her fingers over her forehead. “Yes. I’m serious. I told him off, and now I have to find another dentist.”
“Rose, I’m sorry.” I felt somewhat guilty that I’d convinced her to go. “I’ll never bug you about dating again.”
“Yes, you will.” Yeah, I probably would. “Anyway…” She traced the rim of her glass. “Let’s get back to your high school lover. What are you going to do?”
I rolled my eyes, remembering when Rose had coined that term back in college because I spoke about Andrew so much. “Nothing. I’m gonna keep waiting until I hear back from him.” If I hear back.
“Look.” Rose leaned in on her forearms, adjusting her glasses. This usually meant she was going to give me some form of life-altering advice, in her mind. “If he doesn’t respond in a few days, you need to contact him. At le
ast ask about the chapters you sent, so you won’t go out of your mind wondering whether he liked them or not.”
Her advice seemed reasonable. “I will.” God, I hoped he would message me back. He said he was interested in anything I wrote. I didn’t want to lose contact with him again. But, I didn’t want to come across as desperate, either. I wished I could take my emotions out of the equation and strictly look at this as a wonderful career opportunity, but my heart was stubborn. Or maybe just stupid. Probably more the latter.
Present
“Let’s grab a drink after work,” James, the cute bartender at Sol, the upscale restaurant where I worked, suggested for about the tenth time. For the past few weeks, he’d been talking to me and trying to get me to go out with him after work. I kept turning him down for some reason. Why? I don’t know. I didn’t have a good reason. I was single, and he was funny and nice. Because you’re still sitting on the front porch like Old Yeller waiting for the love of your life to come home. When in reality he’s found another home, and you’re too obtuse to let it go. It was irrational and pointless, when I thought about it. Perhaps I would take James up on his offer. I needed to move on. I smiled. “Maybe. If I’m not too tired after my shift.”
I’d been busy all evening, it being a Saturday night, and my section had been packed, which wasn’t a bad thing. I’d killed it on tips so far. I grabbed three menus and made my way to my new table. I saw a dark-haired man sitting with his back to me and another man with inky hair across from him facing me. He resembled Andrew but had that easygoing smile that was so different from his brother’s. “John?” I asked as my steps slowed, still seeing only the back of the other guy. But, I somehow knew it was Andrew. My spine tingled.
“Loren, how are you?” John stood up and hugged me like we were close buds. We’d always joked around whenever I’d seen him at Andrew’s house in high school, and even more so when I’d had a money management class with him my senior year. Not only was John super friendly, and a badass in baseball, he also was quite intelligent when it came to numbers. He could definitely have a career in finance if he weren’t playing in the majors, which served him well since he probably made ridiculous money now.
“Great. I saw your stats. You had a good day, didn’t you? Although, I was mad that you beat my team.” I was a die-hard Rangers fanatic, but a fan of John.
“Sorry, not sorry.” He crossed his arms over his chest, looking very smug with a boyish smile. I glanced at the other man and my heart thudded like I’d just downed an energy drink. “Hi, Andrew.” My voice sounded reedy as if it took an effort to speak. Why was he here? Did he know I worked here? Was he here with Alyssa? Did he ever read or intend to read my chapters?
I had contacted him after not hearing from him for a week.
“Hi, Andrew. Just checking in to see if you had a chance to look at the chapters I sent.”
I’d been anxious to hear back from him, questioning myself for the millionth time about the reasons why I couldn’t stop obsessing over why I hadn’t heard from him.
He responded thirty minutes later.
“I haven’t had a chance, been very busy. I’ll look at them. I promise.”
That was over a month ago. Now, he was here and seemed surprised to see me, too. “I thought you had a copy-editing job. I didn’t know you worked here.” Andrew’s tone sounded as if he couldn’t believe I worked here, much like how he’d sounded when he’d seen my yard.
“It’s my supplemental income.” I didn’t want to tell him that I needed this job to make ends meet because I made barely over minimum wage at my other one. He gave me a stiff, awkward one-arm hug, and my body tensed. I realized I still had the menus clamped under my arm. “Is Alyssa here?” I kept my voice light. The hostess had told me it was a party of three. His arm quickly fell away and I laid the menus on the table, urging myself to act normal.
“Yeah.” He nodded behind me, his facial expression seemed…grave? I glanced over my shoulder and saw her. Alyssa was her usual supermodel beautiful self, tanned with her hair pulled up in a messy bun. She had on a sheer button-up white blouse with an ice-blue ruffled mini that on her thin frame looked fabulous. You had to be uber skinny to pull off that look, and of course, she was. She had the gorgeous, effortless look going for sure. While I had on a white button-down Oxford, a black tie around my neck, an apron tied to my waist, and black slacks. I was the beast to her beauty.
Regardless of my jealousy, I pasted on a smile and greeted her with the fake-kiss exchange. “How are you?”
“I just got back from a swimsuit shoot in Thailand and Australia. I’m sooo exhausted. I just flew in today, but I had to see my Andrew.” She pecked him on the cheek as she sat down beside him, and I noticed a tic in his jaw. My head pounded when she said my Andrew.
I can do this. I can do this. “Sounds great.” This was going to be a long night for me, but I could fucking do this. “Would you like to start out with some drinks?”
“Um, yeah,” Alyssa said with the air of someone who was used to being waited on. “I’d like a mojito, but with Grey Goose, the juice of two small fresh limes, not the bottled kind, two leaves of mint, club soda, and stevia, not sugar.” She glanced down at my hands at my sides. “You might want to write this down. It’s a complicated order.”
I dug my nails into my hand. This wasn’t the first time I’d taken drink orders, and this order wasn’t that damn complicated. “I think I got it.” I repeated the order—flawlessly, I might add. And, Grey Goose? That was so cliché. Give me Tito’s over that any day, but that’s just me.
I turned my attention to John, who seemed mildly amused by something. He was practically a replica of his brother, but there were slight differences. Andrew’s face was more angular with a strong jaw, perfectly straight nose, and high cheekbones as if he should be modeling Dior or Armani. John had more of the all-American look mixed with a ruggedness—his face slightly fuller while his nose had a slight bump where it appeared to have been broken. They were the same height, well over six feet tall, but John’s build was slightly bulkier than Andrew’s. I’m sure from working out to amp up his batting strength. John was a beast in baseball and led the league in home runs. “I’ll take a Crown and Coke.” He side-eyed Alyssa. “Nothing complicated.”
My face lit up. At least John was one bright spot in this unexpected situation. I swept my eyes over Andrew, trying to keep it together. “What would you like?” My voice sounded breathy. Get your shit together!
“The same.” He was polite, but for some reason he seemed uncomfortable. Maybe he felt guilty because he hadn’t read my chapters and thought I’d bug him about it. Or be upset, which I was. It was kind of a crappy move. I got that he was busy, but why not just tell me the truth? He probably thought it sucked and didn’t want to say anything. A million different scenarios went through my head as I walked to the bar. Not to mention that he was here with Alyssa. This was somewhat uncomfortable for me. Very. I didn’t know if I could handle seeing them touching, smiling or kissing, as couples did. Like Andrew and I did. Maybe this was the sign that I needed to stop sitting around pining for him. Ya think? I think that sign had slapped me upside the head several times for the past month to the point where I should have a concussion.
At the bar to retrieve their drinks, I watched James as he quickly made them. “Let’s go have a drink after work,” I said with a resolution I didn’t completely feel.
He leaned against the counter, and a mixture of surprise and happiness crossed over his face. “Alright, Loren. Right on. I knew you’d come around.”
I grabbed the tray. “One drink.”
He winked and tousled his shaggy blond hair. “Fine. One drink.”
I returned with their drinks and placed them on the table. My hand bumped Andrew’s as I set his down and I almost jumped as if being zapped. I grabbed my notepad and smoothed my apron, settling my nerves. I went over the specials of the day. “You need a few more minutes to decide?”
“
What do you recommend, Loren?” Andrew asked.
“The ribeye, of course. It’s the best steak you’ll ever have.” I wasn’t lying. Our restaurant had been voted best ribeye in Texas.
“Ew, that sounds disgusting. How can people kill animals and eat them?”
I peeled my eyes off Andrew and turned to Alyssa, keeping my cool. “We have several vegetarian and vegan dishes.” I pointed to the items on the menu.
“I’ll take the seared tuna. I’m vegan, but pescatarian.” I nodded. I guess she was okay with killing fish.
She proceeded to give me instructions on how she wanted it cooked, down to the amount of oil to use in the pan.
As I finished writing her instructions, I glanced at John and caught his eyeroll, which made my lips twitch. “What are you in the mood for, big guy?”
“You said it—the ribeye. I love meat,” he stressed and then added, “Loren, you’re looking sexy as hell.” Yeah, my work uniform was the opposite of hot. John was a big flirt, but it was innocent, just as he used to flirt in the past. I bet he had women falling at his feet.
“You better watch it or I could have you thrown out for sexual harassment.” My eyes narrowed at him, but my mouth quivered, trying to fight a smile. “But thanks for the compliment.”
I glanced over at Andrew, and he looked like he wanted to murder his brother. “Would you like some oysters for starters? We also have a killer bacon sampler that you must try.”
“Both,” Andrew replied without hesitation, still scowling.
As they concluded their order, I said, “Would you like some wine to go with your dinner? I’ll get the sommelier to give you some suggestions.”
