by Reed, Zelda
Laura’s footsteps squeaked against the black tile floor as she rushed towards me. “I just saw him,” she said, hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”
It was the first time she’d willingly touched me since I got back from the estate. I melted into it, leaning into her side as I placed my head on her shoulder. She threw her arm around my waist, pulling me in as I said, “Chace isn’t going to be a father.”
She pulled away, eyes wide. “What happened?”
“I don’t know but I think Jennifer may have lost the baby.”
“Shit,” she said. Then, “Wait. They’re not here…celebrating are they?”
I nodded.
Her face scrunched up in disgust. “Jesus, he’s a bigger asshole than I thought.”
A few months ago I would’ve fought on her that – No, Chace isn’t that bad really. – But I agreed.
“I’m going to get another girl on that table,” she said, turning away from me.
“No. I can handle it.”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded. “I handled him for months when he was hurling obscenities at me. I can handle a few of his friends, no matter how sick they are.”
It was less awkward than I thought it would be, bringing the table their beers, pouring them their first round, checking on them throughout their meal. I smiled whenever I was touched, laughed at their jokes and expertly ignored Chace’s stares. He was watching me wherever I went, his eyes on my back as I served the tables around him, glancing occasionally behind the bar to my sister. Laura didn’t try to avoid him. She made eye contact and openly scowled, Chace quickly looking away.
His friends didn’t seem like the type to celebrate something as horrendous as losing a child but they did three rounds of shots, cheering to the absence of fatherhood. Chace only drank two, passing the third to his friend.
They left a mess of hot wing sauce and blue cheese dressing but also a hefty tip in the middle of the table.
“Three hundred dollars?” one of the servers said, looking over my shoulder. She kicked the back of my leg with her heel. “Good for you.”
I stuffed the money in my apron and tried not to think about how much of it was from Chace. Was it guilt money? For firing me and not having the balls to tell me himself? Or were his friends, who sported equally expensive watches and jeans, the generous ones and Chace refused to tip, remembering the moments where I lied to him, luring him into a false relationship like the jezebel I was.
The money burned a hole in my apron throughout my shift. I clocked out and tipped the bar and waited in the booth for my sister to close out. She grabbed her jacket from the back and swung it around her shoulders.
“You ready?” she asked.
The winter air was crisp, like walking into a freezer, unescapable no matter how warm the bar was. Laura tightened her jacket and I stuffed my hands in the pocket of my coat.
“It’s going to snow soon,” she said. “I’m going to have to take a day off and take the kids to the park. You know how much they love making snow angels.”
“Let’s both take a day off. I rarely see them unless they’re sleeping.”
She smiled. “I would like that.”
We were steps away from the bar when the door of a black car opened. Out stepped Chace, sporting a long tweed coat and black leather gloves.
My sister stepped in front of me. “What the fuck do you want?”
He held up his hands. “I wanted to apologize.” He leaned to the side, looking at me behind my sister. “To the both of you.”
Laura crossed her arms. “For what?”
Chace resisted rolling his eyes. “First, for stealing your sister away without asking. And then for firing her.” He looked at me. “For firing you without giving a reason.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said, turning on the ice, heading down the street.
Laura followed me and the car door closed. Chace ran to catch up.
“Please,” he said, his breath forming white clouds in the air. “I need to talk to you.”
“She already said no,” said Laura.
“Actually, she didn’t,” said Chace.
“You know I could scream,” Laura said, “and in seconds a couple of bouncers will come running to slug your ass in the jaw. You might crack your head on the pavement and we both know you don’t want that to happen again.”
I looked down the sidewalk. Two of the bouncers from the bar were watching us cautiously, their gaze pinned on Chace who backed away from my sister. He stuffed his hands back in his pockets.
“Alright,” he said.
He turned away, shoulders hunched forward as he ambled down the sidewalk.
“Let’s go,” Laura said, grabbing my arm.
I planted my feet against the ground. “Wait,” I called out.
Chace stopped and threw me a look over his shoulder, his signature eyebrow raised.
“What are you doing?” said Laura, her hand tightening around my arm.
“I just want to hear what he has to say.”
The wind kicked up, scratching at our cheeks and ears.
“You’re such a fucking idiot,” she said, though there was less malice in her words and more – pity, regret?
“I know,” I said, fixing a smile to my mouth. “But you have to let me be one.”
She threw her hands in the air. “I’ll meet you at home,” she said, turning on her feet.
Laura disappeared around the corner.
Chace waited, his eyes cast over me as if he couldn’t believe I’d agreed to talk to him.
“I’m not having this conversation outside,” I said, eyeing the red tip of his nose.
He glanced towards the bar. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“Yes, but not there.”
Eleven
We went to a little bar down the road, where the exterior wall was made of glass and everyone sat at small circular tables and tall barstools with white curved seats. The bartenders were beautiful and fit, wearing sleek black suits or dresses, mixing drinks to a constant thump of house music, low so you could hear yourself speak. Chace and I took a seat in the center of the room, the purple lights flashing across his face as he ordered a vodka soda. I did the same.
“I never thought you would work in a place like that,” he said.
I shrugged. “Haven’t you heard? You can’t get a job in print if you don’t have an MFA.”
“I don’t have an MFA.”
“But you had enough money to live off of while you traveled and wrote your first book.”
Chace ducked his head. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth. I didn’t want to make him feel bad for having money – I hated people who did that – but my inch of jealousy slipped.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“You don’t have to apologize.”
“Not about that.”
His elbows were on the glass table, hands folded loosely in front of him as the bartender sauntered over with our drinks. She was beautiful, blond hair pulled into a loose ponytail, blue eyes surveying his face. She was Jennifer-lite but Chace paid her no attention. He slid his card from his pocket and handed it to her, his eyes trained on me.
“I shouldn’t have fired you like that.”
“Yes, you should have. I lied to you and didn’t deserve that job.”
“But you did. I’ve been juggling assistants since the week you left and none of them are as competent as you.”
A warm blush crawled up my cheeks. “Thank you,” I said, taking a sip of my drink. It was the first time Chace was in his right frame of mind and complimenting me. “Are you sure you’ve recovered from hitting your head?”
Chace laughed. “I have.”
“Good.”
The pair of us sat in silence for a moment, sipping our drinks as we snuck glances at one another. Chace’s hand was on the table, slowly crawling towards mine until I snatched it away. I wanted him
to touch me and at the same moment the thought twisted something sick in the pit of my stomach. Moments before was celebrating the loss of a child.
“What happened with Jennifer?” I said.
I expected Chace to straighten his shoulders defensively but he deflated towards the table, a small laugh rushing through him. “You haven’t been reading the tabloids have you?”
I shook my head. “Too busy.”
Something flickered in his eyes. He crossed his arms on the table and leaned forward. “She lied.”
“About what?”
“She was never pregnant.”
I expected the news to hit me harder but there was no burst of joy, no urge to leap across the table and plant my lips against his. I sat back and finished my drink, holding it my cheeks.
“That’s sad.”
After leaving the Evans estate, the more I thought about Jennifer, the more I began to feel sorry for her. In her attempt to make my life miserable, and the lives of those I loved, I began to see how miserable she had to have been to inflict that sort of pain.
Chace shook his head. “She’s fucking crazy. She lied about the doctor’s appointments, gave me a fake number to call…You know how I found out?”
“No.”
“I --”
“And I don’t really care.” Chace’s face fell. His eyebrows furrowed as he sat back in his chair. “I don’t need to hear about Jennifer ever again. I’m happy that you’ve rid yourself of her.”
Chace stared at me over the rim of his glass. “Do you want another drink?”
I shook my head. “I should be getting home.”
A grin tugged at the corner of Chace’s mouth. Beneath the table I felt his foot rub against my leg. “You can stay for another drink.”
I smiled. “I have to work tomorrow.”
Chace watched me as I threw my jacket over my shoulders and buttoned it up to my neck. He finished his drink. “Let me give you a ride home.”
I slid on my gloves. “No thank you, I can take the train.”
“In this weather?” He raised an eyebrow. “And to your shitty neighborhood? You might get mugged.”
I couldn’t help but smile. There was the old Chace I knew.
***
Outside of my building the black car pulled to a stop. There was no one out in this weather, the front door closed for once, the drunks packed away in their apartments and shelters, the rats gone underground for the season. My neighborhood almost looked peaceful, blanketed in the chill of winter.
Chace and I were in the backseat, his knee bumping into mine as he asked, “Do you like working there?”
“It pays the bills.”
“So did working for me.”
I smiled. “I don’t do that anymore.”
I opened the car door, letting in streams of wind.
“But you could,” he said, leaning towards me. “Close the door.”
I did as I was told, trapping the warmth in the car.
“I hate my new assistant,” he said. “He’s incompetent and lazy and can’t remember how to make a proper cup of coffee to save his life.”
“He can learn,” I said. “I did.”
Chace shook his head. “You were wonderful from the first day you stepped into the office.” He shuffled closer to me, our knees touching. “I shouldn’t have treated you so badly.”
His mouth was inches away from mine, lips hovering, waiting for me to finish the kiss.
“You shouldn’t have,” I said, opening the door again. “But you did.”
The tips of my fingers tingled with excitement, begging me to lean closer, to kiss him, but I kept my nerve. I stepped out the car and shut the door behind me, refusing to look back as I walked up the stairs to my building. The car door opened and shut. Chace’s feet beat against the sidewalk as he rushed to catch up with me.
“Alice please,” he said, gloved hand gripping the short black railing. There was a certain glaze of desperation I’d never seen on him before, his full lips turned down in the corners.
“Give me a week to think about it,” I said.
“Okay. I can do that.”
A small smile tugged at my mouth. “You don’t have a choice.”
Twelve
Laura and I came home from work smelling of cigarette smoke and roasted pork. It was a Wednesday and the bar was serving “Hump Day Specials” all afternoon. Two handfuls of pork seasoned and roasted to a sandy red, slapped between a buttered bun and coleslaw, served with a side of macaroni and cheese, all for the low price of seven dollars. The floor was packed, customers leaking into the hallway where we always stood during our breaks, forcing us to the back of the building where the cooks and bartenders went to smoke. Laura snuck a cigarette from Julie’s pocket. She threw me a sideways glance when I said something about it.
I wasn’t allowed to scold her for the occasional cigarette, like she wasn’t allowed to bring up what happened with Jennifer and Chace.
Laura landed on the third floor first, her shoulder scratching against the poorly plastered wall, eyes fluttering close. “I’m so fucking tired.”
I patted her shoulder and stepped in front of her. “You’ve got what, twenty minutes until you have to pick up the kids? Take a nap.”
She sleepily nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
Laura took a step forward and crashed into me, my shoulder pressing into her chest. Her arms flung around me to keep herself from falling.
“Alice, move.”
I couldn’t. My feet melted into the ground as I stared down our hall, a line of roses pushed against either side. They were blood red bouquets, stuffed in gold pots with green cellphone wrapped around the base. I picked one up. A pile of Hershey’s kisses rattled in the pots, chocolate dirt wrapped in silver, gold, and purple foil.
“What the fuck,” Laura said, picking up one of her own. She stuck her hand inside the pile of candy and fished out a card. “To Alice, from Chace.” My heart quickened in my chest as she looked at me. “I’m sorry for being such an asshole.”
I dug my hand into the pot and fished out mine. “To Alice, from Chace.” Laura rolled her eyes. “I think about you all of the time.”
Laura picked up another one, the first pot tucked in her arm. “To Alice, from Chace. I miss the sight of your smile.”
I picked up another card. “To Alice, from Chace.” A warm blush crawled up my cheeks. “I miss your body against mine.”
Laura unlocked our apartment door. The two of us gathered all the pots, filling up our living room with the smell of flowers and chocolate. We placed them on and around the coffee table, two of them laid clumsily against the arm of our couch. Laura plucked a card from the one closest to her, the last one placed directly in front of our door.
“To Alice, from Chace.” Her face twisted up in disgust. “Oh my god,” she said, pushing the card into my hand. She turned on her feet and walked towards her room. “I’m going to take a nap.”
Her bedroom door closed behind her as I glanced down at the card.
To Alice, from Chace. I miss the taste of you on my tongue.
***
At the corner, two blocks away from Chace’s apartment, I ran into Miss Gee, the elderly woman who lived across the hall. My thick black coat was zippered up to my chin, but she was sporting a bright blue sweat suit with pink gloves and a matching hat to shield the rest of her from the cold.
“The last thing I’m going to do is let the weather stop me,” she said, jogging in place. “Especially at my age.”
I ran the short distance with her, down the road until we reached Chace’s building. A thin drip of sweat formed on my chest, dripping down to my stomach as I held open the door and followed her in. The man at the front desk stood up as we entered.
Miss Gee waved at him and he sat down. “She’s with me,” she said, pressing the button for the elevator. Then to me, “They had to do a complete overhaul o
f staff a few weeks ago. Don’t know what happened but rumor is, the old crew was planning to rob the whole building.”
She jogged in place until the elevators opened and we stepped inside. On our way up, Miss Gee pulled off her hat and gloves and stuffed them in her pockets.
“You look good,” she said.
“Thank you. So do you.”
“Well, I already knew that.” She grinned. “But you know what I’m talking about.” My eyes furrowed and she hit my arm. “Don’t play dumb with me, girl. I read the papers and check out a few blogs. Jennifer tried to ruin you but you didn’t let her. Good for you.”
I smiled. “Thanks.”
“The only downside to all this is, I was hoping when Chace left her he would come knocking on my door. Alas.” The elevator doors slid open. “He’s probably trying to figure out if he can handle me.”
I waited for Miss Gee to enter her apartment before I knocked on Chace’s door. The soft sounds of a television hummed on the other side, Chace’s feet slapping against his wood floors as he unlocked the door and opened it.
A welcome pressure built in my chest as he stared down at me. He hadn’t yet shaved, his bare feet sticking out of expensive but relaxed jeans, his white t-shirt clinging to his skin, revealing every curve of muscle on his torso.
“You’re staring,” he said, leaning against the threshold of his door.
I popped my eyes back to his, a flush of red crawling up the back of my neck. “Oh…I.” I pulled the last card from my pocket. “I got your flowers.”
A grin spread across Chace’s mouth.
He stepped away from the door, a silent invitation for me to enter. My boots, slightly wet from the outside, squelched against the floor.
“Shoes off,” he said, moving towards the kitchen.
I toed them off and pushed them by the door. Nothing had changed in his apartment since the last time I was there, except for the smell. Gone was the scent of Jennifer’s perfume and shampoo, replaced by the smell of Italian food and Chace’s cologne, mixing together to form a delicious, spicy scent.
