Doubletalk (The Busy Bean)

by Teralyn Mitchell

  After packing up my things, I left the Bean through a side door without getting a breakfast blend coffee or a lemon poppy muffin. I hadn’t reached my goals, so I couldn’t bring myself to buy one despite that. Damn Zeke Armstrong. Who knows what would’ve happened if he hadn’t come to my table? Yep, I was blaming the writer’s block that I’d been dealing with for this story for years on Zeke today.

  “I have no clue how you can eat that right now,” Stacey said for the fifth time.

  “It’s delicious.”

  “It’s cold,” she countered.

  “And your point for stating the obvious?”

  “It’s fucking cold, Rory. How in the hell can you eat ice cream in thirty-degree weather?”

  “I grew up here, and we don’t let the cold dictate what we do and don’t eat. I was craving some ice cream, so I got some.”

  Stacey had lived in Vermont for fourteen years, but she still wasn’t used to the winters. Before moving here, she grew up in Alabama where winters were nonexistent, and the lows were nowhere near what they were here. She got whiney when the temperature dropped, and it persisted through the whole season. The only reason I’d gotten her to come out today was because we both needed a trip to the hair salon and to get a manicure and pedicure. Getting her to tag along while I wandered around the Church Street Marketplace was a bonus. There wasn’t anything I particularly needed, but I knew how much Stacey hated being out in the dead of winter for more than a couple of hours. She could go home, but I’d insisted on driving today, so she was at my mercy. Revenge was best served freezing cold and walking around an outdoor mall, looking for nothing at all.

  “I’m going to find somewhere warm,” she said as I finished off my small cup of ice cream.

  “Aw, come on, Stace. We’re having fun. We’re hanging out and window shopping.”

  “We could be hanging out in our cozy, warm living room watching anything on TV or whatever.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?”

  Stacey narrowed her eyes at me. I could see the wheels turning and her brain working to figure out what was going on. Her dark eyes flared when she got it.

  “You’re a bitch,” she said.

  “I told you I’d get your ass back for that shit you pulled at the Bean with Zeke.”

  She growled. “Sometimes I wonder why I’m even friends with you.”

  “Hey now, that’s my line.”

  “I’m going to find some warmth so I can thaw out. I’m not playing this game with you anymore. Let me know when you’re ready to go home, unless you want to go now.”

  The hopeful lilt at the end of her sentence should have made me take pity on her, but it didn’t.

  “I want to check out a couple of places. It’s never too early to start Christmas shopping.”

  “Seeing as it’s February, that statement isn’t exactly true,” she deadpanned, flicking her eyes over my shoulder.

  She didn’t wait for me to say anything else, spinning on her heels and heading for the nearest store or restaurant where she could sit down. I chuckled and turned to head in the other direction. A hard wall of muscle made me stumble. Two strong hands gripped my upper arms. I looked up to see who had saved me from falling and who I needed to thank. The need to be polite shriveled and died when I saw that it was Zeke holding onto my arms.

  “Are you okay?”

  The combination of his deep voice and his hands on me caused me to shiver. I shook him off. What the hell? Why was I always reacting to him? I didn’t like him or his stupid good looks. I crossed my arms over my stomach.

  “Why are you always where I am?” I snapped.

  “Small town?”

  “We’re in Burlington.”

  “Still small, Ror. You also don’t have a monopoly on all things Vermont.”

  I rolled my eyes. He had me there. “So, you’re telling me you normally wander the Marketplace on a cold Sunday?”

  “When I have something to do, I wander around,” he said. “And maybe Stacey texted me and told me the two of you would be here.”

  I clenched my teeth. Of course, she told him we’d be here. She went out of her way to make my life hell. So even though today had been about me getting her back, somehow, she’d figured out how to stick it to me too. I mean, not really. It’d probably been innocent, but I was going to blame her anyway.

  It was frustrating to continuously run into Zeke. He had a point about it being a small town. This was what I dreaded when I realized he was back in Vermont and living in the town I now called home.

  “You and Stacey talk often?”

  The smirk on his full lips made me narrow my eyes at him. I hugged myself tighter as my stomach clenched. A tingle down below, that I was not acknowledging, had me pursing my lips. Why did he have to be so goddamn handsome? I was sure women fell all over themselves when he smiled at them like he was smiling at me right now. Especially when that dimple in his left cheek popped, but I wasn’t going to. Delight danced in his hooded light brown eyes. His sharp jawline was sprinkled with hair that looked good on him; it wasn’t a full beard but cut close to his skin. Not that I was looking, or rather, staring.

  “Jealous?”

  I groaned. “Not even a little, but I do want to have the facts right when I confront her about divulging my location to the enemy.”

  He let out a deep laugh. “You’ve always been a bit of a drama queen,” he teased. “Stace and I exchanged numbers the last time we happened to be at the Busy Bean. We’ve only talked a few times.”

  “Whatever.” I was done with this conversation and being around him.

  I started walking, only for him to fall into step beside me. I let him walk beside me for a few minutes before I couldn’t resist saying something.

  “Can I help you?”

  “I don’t think so, unless you work at Burlington Records.”

  “That’s where you’re going?” I asked.

  “Yep.”

  I didn’t say anything else to him as we made our way to Burlington Records. I had a thing for vinyl records. My parents always had them when I was growing up, and we listened to them all the time. They bought me my first portable turntable when I was sixteen. When that one broke, I came to Burlington Records to replace it, and I loved their collection of records. I was always able to find something I may not have in my collection already. I came every few months to walk through the store and see if there was anything that needed to go home with me. I did the same at the bookstore. Books and music were my vices and what I spent most of my money on.

  Zeke held the door open for me once we arrived. At least he had the decency not to follow me around. I was relieved when he went to check out the classic rock section. I made my way over to the R&B section, mainly because it was the farthest from where Zeke stood, looking over records. I still found myself sneaking glances at him and keeping track of where he was. It annoyed me, but despite how I felt about him, I could appreciate his good looks and nice body. I ignored how my own body seemed to react to the sight of him and his deep voice. It was time for me to get out of here. I wasn’t going to fall for Zeke’s charms and give him the chance to hurt me again.

  I looked around until I located him with his back to the entrance. I studied him for a moment before making my way to the door and leaving. I pulled out my phone and saw a text from Stacey. She was waiting for me at Vino and Veritas—a bookstore and wine bar—not far from where she ditched me. I sent her a message, letting her know we could go if she wanted.

  “I don’t get why you’re so bent out of shape about me telling Zeke we were in Burlington,” Stacey said as we walked inside our house.

  “Because he followed me to my sacred haven.”

  She let out a dramatic sigh. “But he’s so yummy to look at. Do that and stop complaining.”

  Stacey left me in the living room, heading to her bedroom. I kicked off my shoes and hung my jacket on the hook on the wall. I plopped down on the couch with my feet up. After I found something
to watch, I unlocked my phone to send a message to Coby.

  Me: Hey, dude, what have you been up to today?

  A few seconds passed before I saw that he was typing.

  Coby: Nothing much. It’s a little too cold for my liking, so I decided to stay home today.

  Me: Don’t tell me you’re not a fan of the cold like Stacey.

  Coby: Yep. There’s nothing to like about it. Did you have fun messing with your friend today?

  I’d told Coby about Zeke and how Stacey had played a joke on me. I told him before we left that I was going to Burlington for a beauty day and then would drag Stacey around in the cold.

  Me: I did. She figured it out after an hour of wandering around outside. I ran into Zeke again.

  Coby: Lol. Well, maybe you two are being drawn to each other. You know, like fate.

  My lip turned up, and I furrowed my brows.

  “What’s that face for?” Stacey said, waving her finger in my direction as she sat at the other end of the couch.

  “Coby is one of those people who believe in fate. You know how that makes me feel.”

  She shook her head. “Someone broke you in your past life to make you like this now.”

  I ignored her and turned my attention back to my phone.

  Me: If you say so, but I think it’s something else, like he’s stalking me. Maybe he’s hiding in the bushes outside my house to see when I leave. Or maybe he’s this tech genius on top of being a pro athlete and has hacked into all my stuff to read my messages.

  Coby: I wish I were in your head. It seems like a fun and crazy place to be.

  Me: Hey! Those were all valid suggestions.

  Coby: Not even a little bit, Tasha. Why would a pro athlete stalk you?

  Me: Obviously because he’s crazy. Being a pro athlete doesn’t make you exempt from that at all.

  Coby: If you say so.

  Me: But this time Stacey’s to blame for him finding out where we were today. Enough about him. What did you do today?

  Coby: Nothing interesting. Just lounged around my place. I have plans to go to my parents’ house tonight for dinner.

  Coby and I chatted for another hour while Stacey flipped through the channels, never settling on anything. Coby told me he had to get ready for dinner with his folks, so I closed out of the app after telling him to have fun.

  “Finally,” Stacey said when I put my phone down.

  “Finally, what?”

  “You’ve been ignoring me for hours to talk to your online BF,” she said, sticking out her bottom lip. “I’m starting to feel neglected.”

  “You’re the one who wanted me to make up with him, and he’s not my ‘online BF.’”

  “I should have known you were going to throw that back in my face somehow.”

  “That’s because you know me so well. You’re still my bestie, so stop acting jealous and needy. I think you need to get laid or maybe just a date.”

  She kicked me with her foot, and I hit her with the pillow between us. She stuck her tongue out at me and went back to switching back and forth between two TV shows. Seriously, why the hell did I put up with her?

  10

  Zeke

  “What’re you doing here?” Malik asked, looking up from his computer.

  I stepped farther into his office, claiming one of the chairs in front of his desk. “I wanted to see if you needed a break to get something to eat.”

  “I’m down for that,” Malik said. “But let me finish this up first.”

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket and saw that I had a message from Mallory through the dating app.

  Tasha: This book is going to be the death of me.

  Me: Why not move on to something else then? I’m not a writer, but I don’t think it should be this hard to write a book.

  Tasha: Some books are harder to write than others, but no, it’s not supposed to be this damn hard to get words on the paper. This story won’t speak to me, and I don’t know why. Maybe I should switch gears and give myself a break from this one.

  Me: Then why don’t you do that? What’s driving you to write this story? Are you going to submit it to a publisher when you’re done? What happens if you don’t finish it?

  There were a few minutes before I saw that she was typing again. I felt bad for her since she was struggling so much to get any words on the screen right now. It was kind of like me trying to get back into the sport I loved. We were both trying to find a foothold in our chosen professions. Mallory had dreamed of being a writer as long as I’d dreamed of being a pro basketball player. I had to believe it’d work out for both of us.

  Tasha: I’m self-published, and I don’t plan on trying to get traditionally published. I guess I want to conquer this story because it’s defeated me for so long. I thought I would publish it five years ago, but it never feels right. Maybe I’m the one that’s upping the stakes for this one, and I need to finally scrap this idea. It’s so damn hard to do so. It’d feel like giving up if I do.

  I read her message again, thinking of a reply. I didn’t want to rush it since this was serious and I wanted to help her if I could. I loved that Mallory felt so comfortable being open with Coby. Maybe it had something to do with being behind a screen, but I would take it.

  “Where’s Stace?”

  I closed out of the app quickly, leaving her message unanswered, and turned to see Mallory standing in the doorway of my cousin’s office. She looked amazing in an oversized violet sweater with skinny jeans, ankle boots, and her hair in all its curly glory.

  She still didn’t give me any of her time and barely tolerated me at best. It didn’t frustrate me or make me angry. I mean, it did frustrate me a little. I wanted more with Mallory offline, but I also understood why she kept me at arm’s length. It wasn’t going to be easy breaking through that wall she had built up between us. When I chose my teammates over her when we were in middle school, she ended our friendship. We didn’t talk after that, and she did her best to ignore my existence. That was bad enough, but what happened when we were in high school guaranteed she’d hate me for a long time, and I had my work cut out for me.

  But at least we were talking every day on the app, and I’d take that for now. She’d put me—as Coby—in the friend zone, and I was fine with that. Her seeing me as a friend meant she was more open with me about her struggles and what annoyed her. She talked to me about me, as well. I found it amusing, and I was able to gain insight I never would have been privy to if we weren’t friends online. I also knew what she was doing during her days so that I could pop up where she was from time to time. I tried to be careful when I did so she didn’t get suspicious, but it was easy since she always worked at the coffee shop.

  I wished I could drop the Coby persona online and get her to talk to me. When I “ran” into her in Burlington on Sunday, I thought maybe she’d started softening to me. Not at first, but when she didn’t make a big deal about me going to the record store with her, a glimmer of hope had sparked. It died quickly since she left without even letting me know.

  “She should be in her office,” Malik said to Mallory.

  “She’s not or I wouldn’t have asked, Malik.”

  “You’re just prickly to everyone, aren’t you?” I added.

  She glared at me. “Why do you always show up where I am? I swear you’re stalking me. Maybe I need to get a restraining order.”

  Malik chuckled, and I shot him a betrayed look that only had him shrugging his shoulders.

  “I was here first, Ace, so you’re the one that’s following me right now. We can go together to get restraining orders against each other. It could be a date and everything.”

  She flipped me off as her eyes flashed at me calling her that. Someone walked past and Mallory stopped her, turning her back on us.

  I should have stopped calling Rory by that nickname, but it was hard. I’d always called Mallory “Rory.” But when I heard a guy call his girlfriend “Ace” on a TV show when I was younger, I started ca
lling Mallory that, and she liked it. She never told me not to call her that until I did it when I was apologizing for missing her birthday.

  “She really can’t stand your ass,” Malik said with a big smile on his face.

  “You’re enjoying this.”

  “Of course, I am,” he said. “Women usually do whatever they can for your attention. Here’s one who is not affected by you in the slightest.”

  I glanced back at Mallory. She was smiling and talking to the woman she’d stopped. No matter how many times I told myself to move on and forget about her, I always found myself picking up my phone to message her or showing up where I knew she’d be. It was stupid to try to get Mallory to like me and accept me back into her life. It wasn’t like I was planning to stay. What would happen if I got her to forgive me for all my past transgressions and we started dating, and then I left and disappointed her again?

  Mallory turned her attention back to us and walked into Malik’s office, sitting in the other empty chair. Malik raised an eyebrow.

  “Stacey is interviewing a prospective new hire,” Mallory informed us. “We have plans for lunch.”

  “So do Zeke and me. We should all go grab something together,” my cousin said.