by R.S. Grey
Last time I’d visited her, she had an entire sketchbook full of designs. She was itching to get out of rehab and get back to work. Meanwhile, I was trying to keep my reservations under wraps. I had hesitations about her entering the real world again. Sure, I’d fired all of her noxious employees, but she still had friends and bad influences in her life. I couldn’t watch her every second of every day, though I wished I could.
“I’m glad she got help when she did. I can only imagine how big we’ll become now that she can focus more of her energy on designing,” Josephine said.
I slid my gaze over to her and took in her genuine smile. I knew it had been the right decision to bring her to meet Lorena. My sister needed to know there were other people who still believed in her.
When we arrived outside the rehab center, I pulled open the heavy glass door and we breezed through the lavish foyer.
“Jeez. Maybe I need to go to rehab,” Josephine quipped as we walked past the yoga studio and the coffee bar boasting free chai tea lattes every morning. I supposed it did look like an upscale spa to the untrained eye.
“Don’t let the promise of free coffee tempt you into taking up hard drugs,” I said, keeping my hand pressed to her lower back to guide her in the direction of the elevator.
“No really, I’m considering it,” she joked, gleefully accepting a warm cookie from the reception desk as we passed by.
“This place costs more than most private colleges,” I mentioned with a smile.
Josephine paused mid chew and stared up at me with her big green eyes. “Do you think I have to pay for this?”
I could barely make out her question over the gobs of chocolate chips currently shoved in her mouth.
“Definitely,” I mocked.
She narrowed her eyes and reached out to pinch my arm.
“Keep it up and I won’t give you half.”
We took the elevator to the eleventh floor and then I directed Josephine toward Lorena’s room. We were halfway down the hallway when I caught the scent of a strong floral perfume. My mother’s signature scent. It was practically the scent of my childhood.
Fuck.
“Wow. Someone must have stuck a bucket of potpourri in the air vents here or something,” Josephine said, scrunching her nose in distaste. “How does your sister stand it?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think that’s being pumped in. I’m afraid that smell is a little more menacing.”
“What do you mean?”
Before I could answer, my mother leaned out of my sister’s room wearing a black silk scarf and a sour expression across her delicate features.
“Nurse! We’ve been waiting on those drinks for quite some time now. My daughter and I are—”
She paused mid yell when she saw me walking toward her with Josephine by my side. Her sour expression relaxed and then quickly transformed into a confused scowl as her eyes darted back and forth between us. Josephine swallowed the last of her cookie and smoothed the material of her already perfect pencil skirt.
I tightened the hold I had on her waist and drew her closer.
“Mother,” I projected.
“Julian! Look how handsome you are in your street clothes. Were you heading out to the park or something?” she asked, scanning over my jeans like they were paint-stained sweatpants.
“Mom, I didn’t expect to see you here,” I said, ignoring her question and leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheek.
The scent of her perfume was nauseating, but I plastered on a fake smile and motioned toward Josephine. She still had her normal, warm complexion, and her eyes were just as green as they always were, but something was off. Her smile was guarded and her hand shook as she reached out to introduce herself.
“Hi Mrs. Lefray, I’m Josephine Keller.”
My mother’s mouth slid into a thin, flat smile. “How…charming that my son thought to include you in my family’s time of—”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP,” my sister yelled from the inside of her room. “Is that Josephine out there? Get her in here!”
My mother held her palm to her forehead, clearly embarrassed by Lorena’s cursing. “Dear, would you mind speaking like the educated woman that you are and not some filthy sailor down by the docks?”
I shook my head, trying hard to conceal my smile as I peeked into Lorena’s room.
“Don’t you have legs, Lorena? Come see her yourself.”
She was propped up by pillows in the center of her bed. Her legs were crossed and she was completely surrounded by magazine clippings. She was at work clipping out another photo when she looked up and saw me standing in the doorway.
“I can’t get up right now or all of this painstaking work will be for naught!” she said melodramatically, motioning to the mess around her.
Josephine laughed and stepped up behind me, peering around my shoulder into my sister’s room.
“Hi Lorena,” she said, offering a small wave. I didn’t blame her for being wary of approaching my sister. Lorena’s white blonde hair had grown out in the weeks she’d been in rehab so her dark brown roots were showing and she’d forgone makeup for a more natural look. I thought she looked beautiful, though a little crazy with magazines completely covering most of her body.
She looked up at the sound of Josephine’s voice and beamed a bright, welcoming smile.
“I would squeeze you so hard if I could stand right now. Do you realize how much I’ve heard about you?” Lorena said. “And shit, you’re gorgeous. My brother insists that wasn’t one of the reasons he hired you. If I hadn’t known how great your blog is, I daresay I wouldn’t have believed him.”
Josephine blushed. “Oh, you know about my blog?” she asked.
My mother cleared her throat in the hallway and all three of us turned to look at her. Her bright blue eyes were locked on Josephine as if waiting for her to pay her the attention she was so clearly due.
“So I take it that you’re the reason my philistine of a son left my fundraiser so early the other night?” my mother asked with haughty tone. Her arms were crossed and the point she was trying to make was loud and clear.
Josephine turned and smiled wide. “You know I’ve been dying to meet you, Mrs. Lefray. You’ve raised such a wonderful son. Did he mention that he’s been my only friend since moving to New York? Well, other than my landlady. I met him a few weeks after I moved here and I was already so lonely. If it weren’t for him, I’d probably be holed up in my apartment trying to teach myself to knit or something.”
I watched my mother’s face the entire time Josephine spoke. She wore her frown like armor, but as soon as Josephine started to compliment her parenting skills, she started to crack. Her eyes softened and her arms loosened across her chest.
“Hmm. Where are you from, Josephine?” my mother asked, taking a hesitant step into the room.
Josephine smiled. “This little town in Texas that you have definitely never heard of. Our one claim to fame is when we made it into the Guinness Book of World Records for growing the biggest pumpkin or something.”
My mother smiled. “My, how…quaint. So no New York City roots then?”
That question was my mother’s way of asking about her pedigree, as if this were the 18th century and Josephine still needed to prove her maidenhood.
“I wish,” Josephine answered. “I mean look at your scarf. I don’t think my hometown would know what to do with a woman as chic as you are. They’d probably assume you were a famous celebrity rolling through to film a movie.”
At this, my mother laughed. A genuine, loud laugh. I hadn’t heard the sound in years.
I knew Josephine was laying it on thick, but she was a smart woman to do so. Having an enemy like my mother didn’t do anyone any good. Besides, having my mother like the woman I loved made my life a lot easier.
My gut clenched at the thought.
Love?
Are you fucking insane?
“Okay, stop hogging her, Mother. She’s my employee!” Lorena
teased from the bed. “Jo, get over here and help me plan my fall collection for next year. I’m thinking army green and navy will be the bulk of my colors. I want to stay away from black for now.”
Josephine oohed and awed at the photos spread out across Lorena’s lap. Meanwhile, I stood in the corner of the room, trying to figure out when exactly I’d fallen for Jo. When exactly my heart had won out over my head. I watched her lean across Lorena’s bed. I studied her smile as they talked, and wondered when it had wound itself so deeply into the very fiber of my happiness. That smile was directly related to me. When Josephine was happy, I was happy.
I felt my mother’s stare on the side of my face and glanced over toward her.
She knew.
Moms always know.
She’d probably known from the moment we’d stepped off the elevator. I’d had my arm wrapped around Josephine’s waist for Christ’s sake.
She didn’t say a word though. She just tipped the edge of her mouth up and cocked a brow.
An unspoken question clearly asked between us.
Well? What are you going to do about it?
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Julian
I’d just finished the last stretch around Central Park’s six-mile running trail and was cooling down with a walk on the way back to my hotel. The morning air still held a crispness to it that I knew the sun would steal in a matter of hours. I loved New York City, but the summer heat was a bitch.
I passed by a bagel shop already packed with customers and contemplated buying a dozen for Jo and I to share throughout the week. My phone buzzed in my back pocket and I paused my This American Life podcast and switched over to answer Josephine’s call.
“Could you smell the bagels through the phone?” I asked after the line connected.
She groaned in mock pleasure, but my dick still responded as if she were actually having an orgasm on the other end of the phone line. Really? At 6:00 AM on the sidewalk outside of a bagel shop? There’s a toddler staring at you through the window with slobber dripping down his face. Focus man.
“Are you at Hot Bagel?” she asked.
“How’d you know?”
“Because it’s Saturday, which means you’re doing your six-mile loop around Central Park.”
Christ I was predictable.
“Yeah, yeah. The sooner you leave me alone, the sooner I can go in and buy us some bagels for next week.”
“Okay. First off, make sure you get some cinnamon raisin. Not just a bunch of those gross sesame seed ones. Second, what are you doing tonight?”
I tucked my hand up under my arm as I held the phone to my ear and gave myself a second to calm down. She’s not asking you to go down on her, Romeo. She’s asking you a simple question.
“I was going to meet Dean for drinks. Why?” I was trying hard not to sound over eager, but in reality I just sounded short. I’d never had to try this hard around a woman before.
She hesitated before continuing. “Can you cancel?”
“Depends on what you’re about to ask me to do.”
“Will you please, please come to a party with me?” She was using her honey-laced tone, the one that had a direct line to my pants.
“Whose party? I thought I was your only friend.”
If she was calling to invite me to some dude’s party, I was going to lose it. I knew it was only a matter of time before some guy noticed her on the subway or in some deli as she picked out a sandwich. She was too gorgeous to fly under the radar of other men and I was about to have to sit through a night of watching some bass player from Brooklyn try to work his moves on her. Oh cool, tell me more about your indie band.
“Well…my landlady is throwing a party tonight and I promised her I’d come. I kind of owe it to her considering how much she’s helped me with my blog.”
Her landlady?
“I told you I’d help you with those photos,” I protested, annoyed that she hadn’t taken me up on my offer.
She groaned. “I know. I know. I just feel bad asking you for favors. You already do so much for me and I don’t want you to get sick of me.”
“Aren’t you asking me for a favor right now?”
She laughed. “This is different. This is supposed to be fun!”
“How old is your landlady?”
“I’d say she’s closer to seventy than fifty.”
“Jo…”
“Okay. You’re right. I’ll buy you a beer after.” She continued before I could reply, “No, wait. I can’t afford that. I’ll buy you a coke from the nearest vending machine.”
I laughed. “Okay. What time should I meet you?”
“Eight.”
Eight? What kind of old person starts to party at 8:00 PM?
…
At 8:05 that night, Josephine and I made our way up the four flights of stairs that separated her apartment from her landlord’s place on the top floor. I’d already memorized what she was wearing: jeans, sandals, and a white tank top. The fabric looked soft, and the spaghetti straps were thin, hardly there at all. The fact that I couldn’t see a bra strap made it that much more painful to bear.
“My landlady is a little old school so just say that we’re friends. I don’t want her to think we’re living in sin or anything,” Josephine said.
“Isn’t that what we are?”
She shot me a sidelong glance.
“Would she really care about that?” I asked, pushing away from the topic of our “are we or aren’t we” relationship status.
“Yes. She specifically asked me before I signed my lease if I was going to have any male guests stay over.”
“Really? I think that’s against the law.”
She nodded. “Yeah, well just don’t say anything that will upset her. I don’t want to be homeless.”
I held my hands up, defenseless. “I solemnly swear that I won’t get you kicked out of your apartment.”
When we arrived on the top floor of the building, Jo knocked on her landlady’s door and then offered me a gentle smile.
“Thanks for coming with me,” she said, reaching over to squeeze my hand.
Before I could reply, the wooden door swung out in front of us and I came face to face with a very drunk, very sweaty old man.
“Newbies! Welcome!” he said with a grin as his gaze swept over us.
Josephine hesitated before offering him the platter of cupcakes she’d made earlier.
“Barney, don’t scare them! Let me answer, let me answer.” An older woman rushed forward and smiled wide when she caught sight of Jo on the other side of the doorway.
“My little Josephine!” the woman squealed, enveloping Jo in a hug that at once tipped Jo off balance and allowed the woman to drag her full force into the apartment.
I stepped in after her, trying to stay close. Why was that guy so sweaty? And where was he going with those cupcakes?
“Oh! You brought a friend?” the woman asked with an arched brow. She had red lipstick on that was crusted in the corners of her mouth. Her cotton dress was short, with a halter top that tied behind her neck. It would have looked good on a twenty-two-year-old. On Jo’s landlord, I felt like I needed to avert my eyes. There was too much wrinkly, tanned skin on display.
Jo smiled. “Yep. This is Julian. He’s just a friend.”
I reached out for her hand, but she stepped forward and wrapped me in an awkward hug. Clearly, this woman was the touchy feely type.
“I’m Holly, Josephine’s landlady,” she said with a wide smile.
“Nice to meet you,” I said, stepping back out of her grasp.
Her apartment was much bigger than Jo’s. It took up most of the top floor of the building, which meant there was plenty of room for a party, though I hadn’t seen anyone besides Barney and Holly. Barney disappeared down the hall, and Holly led us past the entryway into an empty kitchen. An entire bar’s worth of alcohol was set out across the island and it looked like a few people had already dipped into it.
Wh
ere are they then?
“Grab a drink and then meet me in the living room. It’s just down the hall,” Holly said, smiling and shimmying her shoulders with excitement.
Barney stepped into the doorway behind her and wrapped his arms around Holly’s waist, then pinched her. She squealed and pretended to fight him off, all the while allowing him to pull her from the room.
“C’mon. Gerald wants to play,” Barney said, with a hint of something more in his voice.
What the hell does that mean?
I glanced over at Jo to see if she was getting the same weird vibe that I was.
“This is definitely not what I was expecting,” I said, stepping toward the alcohol.
Jo shrugged. “It’s a little different, but they’re nice people, I’m sure.”
No, she didn’t get it. There was definitely something off about this party.
“I think we should head out,” I said. My gut was screaming at me to get out while I still could.
Josephine frowned. “What? Seriously? We just got here, and I don’t want to offend Holly.”
I nodded and tried to tell my instincts to shut up. Sure, Barney and Holly were a little off, but maybe they were just weird old people. New York City is full of those.
“Okay, yeah. We’ll stay for a little bit,” I relented.
Josephine held up a bottle of Jack Daniels. “Look! They even have your favorite alcohol. It can’t be all that bad.”
We filled our cups with Jack and Cokes and then clinked them together.
“Cheers,” Jo said, smiling up at me.
“Cheers.”
“Come on you two! We’re about to get started,” Holly called from the other room.
I reluctantly followed Josephine down the hall, bracing myself for a night of awkward Monopoly games. If I had to sit by sweaty Barney, I wasn’t going to last five minutes.
“What do you think they’re playing in there?” Josephine asked just as we stepped into the doorway of the living room and were met by a sight that was so un-seeable, all the therapy in the world wouldn’t be able to erase it.
Holy shit.
