So Wicked

by Melissa Marino

  It was the last straw.

  “Well, just sit there and continue daydreaming,” I said, tossing the rag I was wiping the bar down with across its length. “No ‘thank you’? No ‘it’s okay’? And why the hell were you gawking in the mirror while I was making that drink, anyway?”

  Her indignant eyes opened wide, showing no mercy toward mine. “Thank you,” she said sharply. “It’s okay. And I wasn’t gawking, I was thinking.”

  “About what?” I snapped.

  She twirled the straw around her drink before lifting it out of the glass and tossing it on the bar. Droplets of gin and lime juice sprinkled across the surface that I had just fucking cleaned, that she watched me clean, right in front of her.

  She took another sip. “Not that it’s any of your business, but—”

  “You know what? If you’re going—”

  “Marshall. Shut up and don’t interrupt me,” she cut in. “Man. Throw a few tattoos on a boy and all sense of being the gentleman I remember goes out the window.”

  “Or maybe fucking over my best friend makes me a little cranky.”

  Another sip.

  Another deep breath.

  “I was going to say, I was thinking of the perfect pairing for this drink,” she said. “That is what I was pondering.”

  Oh.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled.

  “A mini mojito cheesecake,” she said.

  “Huh?”

  “To pair with it. This tastes like a mojito, but without the rum.”

  “And mint.”

  “Whatever,” she said. “Maybe I should clarify. It has a…vibe…like a mojito. In any case, the citrus with the lime would match the lime in the cheesecake. Plus, the sweetness and rum would complement the cucumber and gin nicely.”

  I nodded my head, reluctantly impressed with her thought process. It was the first hint of hope I’d had since the moment she walked through the door. Maybe we could make this work if we both just kept our fucking mouths shut and kept it to business.

  “I dig it,” I muttered.

  I extended my arm and grabbed the rag I had thrown. I thought I heard her mumble a “thanks” back, but I wasn’t sure.

  And I wasn’t going to fucking ask her.

  “I’m going to need a menu of all the drinks,” she said. “I can give my input on what would pair well or if you wanted to do sampler plates.”

  I dragged my hands through my hair, swallowing her assumptions and carefully choosing my words. “And you think this can work? You and me working together?”

  She smiled, a genuine grin, and I was transported back so many years ago. While she always had a rough edge, a no-bullshit attitude, when she smiled, the world saw it. Again, it was another first of the day. Perhaps two more. She smiled for one, and two, I saw the old Lexie.

  “I tried your drink,” she said. “Did you try my stuff?”

  “Why do you think I asked you back?”

  “Answer my question.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “And?”

  “Like I said, I asked you back, didn’t I?”

  “I guess that’s the best I’ll get out of you, but I have one more question. What are you going to tell Aaron?”

  There was no hesitation behind her question, and because of it, it was shocking. I’d assumed she wouldn’t care what he thought or what my role would be in mediating the situation. It also meant I was going to have to stomach the fact I wasn’t being entirely truthful with Aaron, not that I needed to explain a goddamn thing to her. It was more for my own peace of mind. Ginger was the first thing I ever felt so passionately about, and I wanted it to be the best. If it was as big of a success as I hoped for, then Aaron would never need to know about her. His life was complete now. For the first time in fucking years. I wasn’t going to mess that up, no matter if it was for business or personal reasons.

  “For now? Nothing.”

  She bit the bottom of her lip, not in a sexy way, but to stifle a laugh. She shook her head and tried to gain her composure. “Sorry. I’m not laughing. It’s just ironic.”

  “How so?”

  “You’re the one lying to Aaron now.”

  “I’m not lying. I’m just not telling him. He has the life he wants now, the life he’s fucking sacrificed everything for. I’m not going to drudge up everything from the past, everything to do with you, and get him all riled up back in Chicago. I’m the one handling shit here.”

  “One might say not telling is still lying.”

  “And I say you’re wrong.”

  “That’s your business,” she said, sliding out of her seat.

  She stood up, brushing her hands down her uniform whatever. The pink dress thing looked like she stepped right out of a retro diner. It was cute or catchy, I guess. This was a girl who I never saw in anything that didn’t have a designer label or a suit jacket. Her high-powered career in her previous life was a complete one-eighty from what she was doing now. It made me wonder what else was different.

  “So,” I said, leaning against the bar. “What’s up with Sydney?

  She shrugged. “How would I know?”

  “You were like best friends.”

  She stepped in, picking up her drink and taking a long swig. “We drifted apart,” she said, after she swallowed.

  “Did you drift apart from everyone in your life?”

  “I don’t see how that is any of your business. Plus, if you’re so interested in what she’s doing, why don’t you ask her. You were the one dating her.”

  “That was fucking years ago and I never dated her.”

  She laughed loudly, bending at her waist with how funny this was to her. “That’s right,” she said through struggled breath and giggles. “You screwed around with her and then on her.”

  She had so much fucking nerve.

  Maintain, Marshall. She’s trying to get a rise. Don’t let her. I don’t care if she tells me I’m as useless as a knitted condom.

  “We weren’t exclusive, Lexie,” I said.

  She sighed. “Please stop calling me that. And did Sydney know that? That you were sticking it in every—”

  And that was where I snapped. It hit me right in a sensitive spot, the spot where I knew all the pain she caused Aaron and Delilah and couldn’t believe her fucking indignation.

  “I’m going to move right the fuck past this entire conversation,” I said, moving down the length of the bar to get away from her. “I was only trying to make conversation, keep shit as civil as possible.”

  “Me, too. I can maintain professionalism, so maybe you shouldn’t bring up stuff from years ago,” she said.

  Anger exploded inside of me, and if it wasn’t for my office view in front of me, leading me away from her, I would’ve lost my shit. Steps away from the office door and she came at me with one last round.

  “Marshall? Sorry,” she said in a tone only above a whisper.

  The hell she was.

  I spun around. “You know what? I won’t bring up shit from the past. That’s fine with me as long as you aren’t a bitch if I ask a simple question like how a friend is or how you’re enjoying the weather.”

  Her shoulders slouched, her eyes to the floor. “The weather is always perfect here. Even when it rains, it’s perfect.”

  “I have a hard time believing that, but whatever you say.”

  “What’s not to believe?”

  “Anything you fucking say, Lexie.”

  Her head popped up. “Anything but that name. Please,” she said.

  She drew in a deep breath, closing her eyes as she exhaled with a slow, controlled measure. When her eyes flickered back open, the sadness I saw earlier had returned. It occurred to me it wouldn’t take much to break her. There was a vulnerability I’d never known or seen from her before, and because of that, I was confused. There were parts of her, the hard exterior and ice-cold interior I once knew, that were still firmly intact. But this other side? It made her familiar features distort in such a way
that the past Lexie and present Alexis were both right there, but hidden at the same time.

  “So,” she said, breaking through my thoughts. “About the mini mojito cheesecakes.”

  Chapter Four

  Alexis—

  It was always quiet. It wasn’t only because I lived alone in seclusion. It was because it was how this town was. Arroyo Grande was twenty minutes from downtown San Luis Obispo. It was far enough away from the college kids at Cal Poly and the hustle and bustle of the town, but still close enough for my daily deliveries.

  The quiet was what I wanted all along and I found it.

  There was no time it was quieter than just before the sun began to rise, an explosion of fiery oranges and buttery yellows lifting from the darkness into the periwinkle sky. It wasn’t beautiful. It was breathtaking. I never knew a sunrise could look like that until I moved here. There simply wasn’t time, or even the desire, to stop to glance at one.

  But now?

  It was my morning ritual. My prayer. Mediation. Whatever it was called, it was for me.

  The heat and steam from my morning coffee warmed my hands that wrapped around the mug. Still in my pajamas, I lazily swung on my porch swing, a blanket, a white chenille with little rainbows all over it, thrown over my legs to keep out the morning chill. At a little after six o’clock in the morning, my workday would begin soon once the sun was in full bloom.

  I picked up my phone to scroll through my schedule for the day, even though I had looked at it right before bed. All those years in finance as an investment banker, when working eighty hours a week was the norm, primed me for early mornings and late nights. The difference? I traded in my conservative dress and pantsuits for jeans, T-shirts, and my baby-pink vintage waitress/bakery girl button-down dress.

  I traded in more than my attire. So much more.

  My morning was fairly normal. Phoebe would be here in about an hour and we’d start baking. My orders weren’t vast like a regular bakery, but rather made-to-order for the local farmers markets, small restaurants, bookstores, and other specialty retailers. Ginger was my first venture into the bar business and it was going to be a large undertaking. Instead of small deliveries on various days of the week, Ginger was going to require daily drop-offs. It wasn’t a venture I was going into lightly.

  Especially now.

  Damn. I didn’t want to work with Marshall. Granted it had been many years, but his personality had taken a nosedive. Looking further down my schedule, I knew I wasn’t going to forget what I had to do: Ginger. Before I left there two days ago, I told him I’d be by today to drop off additional samples for his employee training class that night.

  I was just going to have to get used to it, both being there and seeing him. My only hope was he’d start to lighten up to make this venture everything I knew it could be prior to knowing him and Aaron were owners.

  Aaron.

  Delilah.

  What if they came here?

  No. I couldn’t think about that. Not only would Marshall warn me, but he obviously wasn’t going to risk his friendship with Aaron over this. It was why it was so odd that he was lying to Aaron about it at all. If there was one thing I knew about Aaron, it was that he had no tolerance for, hated, being lied to. He would’ve never forgiven me for hiding what I did from him, so I decided to run away first. It was what I did, except with him, I ran from my daughter, too.

  My thoughts had lasted through to my favorite part of the sunrise, the sun, blinding, brave, and ready to burn up a new day. I pulled the blanket from my lap and wrapped it around me as I headed into the house to refill my coffee. The day was starting.

  * * *

  “And I don’t care what that dicknose says to you, don’t let him take your power,” Phoebe said as we headed toward the entrance of Ginger. The gravel parking lot was unsteady as we navigated with boxes of pastries and treats.

  “Okay,” I said.

  “I’m serious, Alexis. If he sees you get all riled up with his macho, ego-ridden shit talk, you stand back and smile. He’ll hate that.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I get it.”

  Phoebe didn’t know the whole story, though. In fact, she knew none of the story. She was part of my life here in California, and I never shared with her about my old life in Chicago.

  Phoebe never knew me in my days as an investment banker. In a field where men outranked women by 80 percent, I learned, and learned quickly, to not only stand my ground, but also dominate it. That never left me. In fact, the cold-as-ice exterior was part of me for all of my adult life, and when it came to career choice, I had no fears. However, it was never my passion. So, I took my no-fear attitude and started Tipsy.

  We approached the door, and Phoebe pushed it open with what appeared to be a very tame hip bump, but the door overreacted, crashing into the wall behind it. We stepped inside and were immediately assaulted by Marshall’s shouting.

  “What the hell?” he screamed from somewhere he couldn’t be seen. “How hard is it to open a fucking door?”

  “It was an accident!” Phoebe said.

  Marshall emerged from the office, shaking his head. His messy, dirty-blond hair shook around his face, and his blue eyes glared at us. Even though I’d seen him, he was still so different. The Marshall I remembered was this clean-cut, smiley smooth talker. He could charm the pants off anyone or anything. Women, men, customers, and even dogs were putty in his charismatic hands. Outside of WET, Aaron’s bar that Marshall managed, he was always dressed in top men’s fashion. Now? Jeans and a fitted, plain black T-shirt, every inch of his skin on display covered in tattoos, only reminded me a fraction of the guy I once knew. There was such a mystery surrounding him now, and while I had no right to ask, I wondered.

  “Accident my ass,” he mumbled, heading over to us. He grabbed a few boxes from me, without even a hello, and turned to walk away.

  Or maybe I didn’t wonder that much.

  “Well, it was,” Phoebe said. “You need to put some door stoppers on that or something.”

  Marshall placed the boxes on top of the bar with a little more aggression than I was comfortable with, considering the delicate nature of what was inside.

  Phoebe and I placed the remaining treats next to the others, and I began to open the tops of the boxes. “Phoebe? Can you run out to the truck and grab the serving trays and displays?”

  “And watch the door on the way back in,” Marshall huffed.

  The thing I loved most about Phoebe was she didn’t take shit. If I was comfortable with holding my ground against men, she was a rabid animal unleashed if she thought a man was talking down to her. No doubt he got a taste during their first meeting, but now he was in trouble.

  She stomped over to him, tossing her wild red hair behind her. As she stepped up to him, he probably could’ve missed all five foot one inch of her if he hadn’t been looking.

  “Listen, Asshole Casserole,” she hollered, her head lifted as far as she could to try and stare him down. “I don’t know what your deal is, but you’re going to shove that self-righteous, spunk bubble of an attitude up your ass, leave it there, and act a little more goddamn pleasant, okay?”

  “Phoebe!” I said.

  His jaw dropped open in shock, but he shook it off. “Spunk bubble, huh? Good one,” he said, cracking a hint of a smile.

  Phoebe stepped backed, rounding her shoulders in pride. “Thank you. Now if you excuse me, I’m going to go get the stuff to set up the display.”

  “You know,” Marshall called to her. “All I meant was, if you could be a little gentler with your hip check into the door, I would—”

  Phoebe spun around, her face turning the color of her hair. “Are you calling me fat now?” she screamed. “Because you may think of that as an insult, but it’s not. I’m proud of who I am and—”

  “Phoebe,” I said. “That’s enough.”

  “No!” Marshall shouted, interrupting her right back. “I didn’t call you anything.”

  And of cou
rse, at that moment, Wells rushed in from the back, anger seething from every orifice. “You called her fat?” he exclaimed. “You can be a dick sometimes, boss, but that’s a whole other level lower than you.”

  “I did not call her fat!” Marshall said.

  “You implied it,” Phoebe said. “What with my overly ample hips checking into your precious door.”

  “You said that?” Wells screeched. “Dude.”

  “I did not!” Marshall said. “Lex— Alexis, I mean. Tell him. Tell her!”

  Once again, all eyes were on me. The scenario seemed funny enough, but this was business, a business I was trying to run with Marshall.

  I turned to Phoebe. “Chill out, he didn’t call you fat. He didn’t say ample. You made your point. Please go get the display things.”

  Her face softened, and I saw her anger begin to lift away. A working relationship with Marshall would prove to be volatile, both of them with their strong personalities, but they were going to have to deal with it. I was going to have to deal with it between them, while trying to manage however things were going to evolve between Marshall and myself.

  I turned to Wells. “He didn’t call her fat. They were riling each other up, and they both need to stop. You also need to mind your own business. If you’re into Phoebe, just ask her out and get over all the cat and mouse.”

  I turned to Marshall. “Phoebe was right. Shove the attitude where the sun doesn’t shine, once and for all, or I’m calling it done. This is unhealthy for all of us, and it’s not worth it. I get it, okay? You hate me. You hate what I did to Aaron. I can’t change it. Neither can you.”

  “Who’s Aaron?” Phoebe asked.

  “You don’t know?” Wells exclaimed. “He’s the other owner here and Alexis’s ex-husband and Marshall’s best friend.”

  Phoebe began giggling. “Alexis doesn’t have an ex-husband, and I find it hard to believe Marshall has any friends.”

  I winced at Phoebe’s words. They stung and right in a place I wasn’t prepared for. My heart.

  He did have friends. He always had a lot of friends. I was his friend for many years.