by R.S. Grey
“There she is,” Dean said with a smile as he held up his drink in greeting.
I turned to the door and watched Jo walk into the bar, stealing the attention of every guy within a ten foot radius.
I had a full grin stretching across my face before I even realized how happy I was to see her. She was dressed differently than usual in tight black pants and a thin black t-shirt. It looked like some kind of work uniform, but I didn’t mind the darker look on her.
By the time she’d wound her way toward us, I’d already forgotten my promise to Dean that Jo was just one of the guys tonight.
“I’m sorry I’m late, guys!” she said, coming to stand beside my chair and tossing her purse down onto the table. She seemed worn out, but she looked great. Her bright red lips stood out in the dim light of the bar.
“Long day?” Dean asked.
Jo laughed and scrunched her nose. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry, I got caught up.”
“With another one of your prior commitments?” I asked with an arched brow.
Jo’s smile faltered as she turned her attention toward the bar, strategically ignoring my question.
“What are you manly men drinking?” she asked quickly, waving down a nearby waiter.
I could feel Dean’s stare on the side of my face but I ignored him. The bastard could save his judgments for someone else.
“Hi. What can I get you?” the waiter asked, beaming down at Jo with more than just a simple smile. Interest was written across his douchey face clear as day.
“She’ll have a Gin Fizz,” I said quickly.
Jo peered over at me. “Is that what I got the other day?”
I nodded.
She grinned at the waiter. “Then that’s what I’ll have!”
“Most women would bite my hand off if I tried to order for them,” Dean said, watching Jo carefully.
She shrugged his comment off. “Julian’s pretty good about knowing what I want.”
I watched as the full meaning of that comment took hold for her and then smiled as a blush overtook her cheeks.
“Okay, let’s move on,” Jo said, waving her hand to change the subject. “What were you two talking about before I got here?”
“I was about to play wingman for Julian here, actually. Maybe get him laid for the first time in months.”
I kicked his shin under the table, but his face didn’t even budge.
Jo quirked a brow. “Oh really? Months?”
I shrugged and looked her square in the eye.
“Care to help a friend out? I’m sure there’s a bathroom we could find,” I said with a confident smile.
“Hey, hey. Not in my bar. I just had the floors redone,” Dean said, holding up his hand in protest.
I laughed. “It’d hardly be the first time that bathroom would be used for some nefarious deeds.”
Jo swallowed and glanced away.
“I’m sure there’s a woman here who would take you up on that offer, Julian. We just have to find the right one,” she said.
“I think I like the one at this table,” I pushed, feeling the effects of my second scotch starting to kick in.
She scanned the room for attractive women and tried to hide her smile. She liked when I flirted with her and yet she pretended to ignore it.
“I’m honored,” Dean joked, putting his hand over his chest. “It’s just that you’re not my type.”
I laughed and shook my head.
“What about her?” Jo asked, pointing to the left side of the bar. I turned my attention to where she was pointing. There was a pretty blonde perched on a barstool, alone and sipping on a drink. She glanced over her shoulder as I watched her, and when our eyes met, she smiled and bit down on the edge of her lip—girl code for “come on over”.
She was pretty, I’d give Jo that, and her red dress left very little to the imagination, but she wasn’t my type. I preferred leggy brunettes who played hard to get.
“Nah, not feeling it,” I said.
“Oooookay,” Jo said, turning over her other shoulder. “Her?”
She tilted her head to the right, but I couldn’t tell who she was talking about. There was a sea of people to our left, plenty of women that I would have picked up back in Boston. Back then my tastes weren’t quite so singular. Blondes, redheads, brunettes, tall, short…didn’t matter.
“Who?” I asked, squinting toward the crowd.
“The girl with the pixie cut sitting with her friends. She looks like Tinkerbell or something.”
Ah, I knew who she was talking about. The girl was gorgeous no doubt, with a sort of Emma Watson vibe. I liked Hermione just as much as the next guy, but she wouldn’t do for tonight.
I shook my head and Dean laughed.
“Picky, picky. I’m sure someone here is more than worthy of your attention if you’d only give them a chance.”
I scowled at him. “What about you, Dean? Why don’t we set you up with someone?”
“Tonight is about you, my friend. Besides, I’m a busy man. I don’t have the luxury of dating at the moment.”
“Uh oh, then that means you’re about to find the love of your life,” Jo said.
Dean flinched back. “What makes you say that?”
She laughed just as the waiter set her drink down on the table. She thanked him, took a sip, and then turned her gaze back to Dean.
“Everyone knows that when you’re least looking for love, that’s when it finds you.”
Dean turned to face the bar, slapped both hands over his eyes and called out, “I’m not looking for love!” while making a kissy face.
We laughed and Josephine reached over to grab his arms before the patrons at the bar became even more confused by his antics.
“What about you, Jo?” I asked.
She took a sip of her drink, watching me over the lip of her glass.
“What about me?”
“Are you looking for love?”
She laughed and rolled her eyes. “I plead the fifth.”
“Why?”
“Because if I say I am, then your incessant flirting will only become more relentless.”
“And if you’re not?” I asked.
“Probably the same thing.”
I laughed and nursed my scotch. Was she right? Did she have me so figured out? She certainly had the upper hand: I wanted her and she didn’t want me.
Maybe it was time to mix it up, let her know what it felt like not to have me in her back pocket, ready and waiting for a green light.
I sipped my drink and scanned the bar, trying to glance through the crowd of women with fresh eyes. Then I saw her, near the back: a girl with light brown hair, tan skin, and a killer smile. She was sitting with friends and laughing. To be honest, she looked like she could have been Josephine’s sister.
Yup. She would do just fine.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Josephine
Most people think of life as a merry-go-round, with highs and lows and slight bumps in the road. At the end of the day, you’re riding a pony, so how bad can it be? I looked at my life like a tilt-a-whirl. It spun me round and round until I thought I’d hurl everywhere, and then the carny just kept laughing and kicked it up another notch.
I’d had thirty minutes, maybe an hour tops, where I’d thought things would begin to settle down for me. My best friend was moving to New York. We’d live together and she’d help me pay rent. Life was good, right? No. Life was a pit of snakes.
Julian was going on a date with an adorable girl.
How could this happen, you might ask?
Dean.
Everything bad in my life could be blamed on Dean.
He’d suggested Julian find a girl to date. He’d encouraged him to go over and chat with her.
I hated Dean.
The girl was lovely, of course. Her name was Molly and she’d moved from California the year before. She had this annoyingly cute voice and big green eyes. I hadn’t noticed at first, but I swear she and I cou
ld have been related. I mean, she would be the pretty sister and I would be the frumpy weird one with a chameleon, but still, the similarities were uncanny.
I couldn’t figure out if Julian had picked her on purpose though. He didn’t seem like the type to play games, and I knew there were only so many times I could tell him I was uninterested before he actually believed me. The sad part was, I didn’t want him to listen. I was selfish, and I wanted him to keep flirting with me, even if it never turned into anything.
Why?
Because I was immature and in love with my unattainable boss, that’s why.
The next day, Julian and I were riding in the back of a Lincoln town car, rushing from meeting to meeting. We’d already met with two interior design firms and were on our way to meet with a third. The sooner we picked one, the sooner Lorena’s store would go under construction. He’d dressed up for the day in a navy suit with a light blue tie. I loved the way he looked in navy and I loved the way he looked in a suit. The combination was hard to handle all at once. He was staring out the window, his profile a perfect complement to the designer suit: chiseled jaw line, hard cheekbones, hazel eyes staring off into the distance.
“So when are you going to take Molly out?” I asked, peering at him from beneath my lashes.
The edge of his mouth turned down and he kept his gaze steady on the building outside our window.
“Soon,” he answered with a half-hearted tone. I’d never seen him so distant.
“How soon?” I pushed.
“Why do you care?” he asked, finally turning to me with a hard stare.
I looked away and swallowed, annoyed with how short he was being with me.
“Because you’re my friend and I want you to be happy.”
He grunted and pulled a legal pad out of his briefcase. Clearly, the conversation about Molly was over. He uncapped his pen with his mouth and then started scribbling on the first blank page. I had no clue what he was writing, but I didn’t dare interrupt him. If this was Julian in a bad mood, I didn’t like it.
“You know what pisses me off the most?” he asked, recapping his pen and waiting for me to turn toward him.
“What?”
“That you pretend like it wouldn’t bother you if I went out with her.”
I rolled my eyes. We were having this conversation? Now? In the middle of a workday, in between meetings, with a driver in the front seat listening to every word?
“I’m just making the best of a shitty situation,” I replied, trying to be as honest as possible. “I want you to be happy and I think Molly is a nice girl.”
“Bullshit,” he said, cutting me off before I could continue.
“Oh really?” I said, sitting up in my seat and facing him. “You think you have everything figured out, Julian?”
“I think you’re lying to yourself and you’re lying to me.”
I could feel my face growing warm. I was angry and I was two seconds away from letting my temper get the better of me.
“You think this has been easy for me? I moved to New York on my own and you’re honestly the only friend I have here. Do you realize how scared I am that you and I will have a fling and then you’ll move back to Boston, your sister will fire me, and I’ll be left here without you and completely broke? You have no clue what I’m going through so why don’t you save the lecture.”
“Jo—”
I held my hand up to stop him.
“Not now,” I protested.
The tears were already gathering in the corners of my eyes and we were minutes away from stepping into a meeting. I’d look so unprofessional if I walked in with a splotchy face and a choked up voice.
Julian reached out and gripped the patch of skin below my pencil skirt. He squeezed my knee twice, a sort of a gentle apology. I crossed my arms and kept my gaze pinned on the door. I wasn’t ready to give in yet.
He took the hint and moved his hand away, brushing my skin with the pads of his fingers in the process. My stomach dipped at the loss of his touch, but there was nothing I could do. I’d pushed him away and now I had to live with my decision. I had a few moments to gather myself before the driver pulled over in front of our next destination. He hopped out of the front seat and rounded the car to open my door. I took a breath and wiped beneath my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “To answer your question, I’m not going out with Molly. It didn’t seem right to lead her on when I’m interested in someone else.”
I froze, absorbing his words and the implications they had. By the time I’d turned, mouth open, ready to speak, he’d already opened his door and stepped out. I wanted to reach out after him and yank him back inside the car. If I were more reckless or if I hadn’t needed every single dime I earned working at Lorena Lefray Designs, I’d have jumped on him in a second. I’d have pinned him to the backseat of the town car, straddled his lap, pulled my skirt up, and had my wicked way with him.
If only…
“Are you coming, Jo?” Julian asked, leaning down to peek into my open doorway.
I could have told him everything then. It would have been so easy to come clean. Instead, I accepted his outstretched hand and squeezed my feelings deep, deep down into the pit of my stomach where I could pull them out at night when I lay in bed alone, contemplating how much longer I could get away with pretending that I was anything but hopelessly in love with him.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Julian
I hadn’t talked to Jo in almost two days.
I’d gone thirty-one years without knowing her, yet now it felt wrong to even go one weekend without speaking to her. Things had been tense between us since I’d invited her to have drinks with Dean and me. I should have realized that the night was wrong from the very start. Trying to pick up women around Jo had been an idiotic way to try to push her to admit her feelings for me.
In the end, I’d only succeeded in pushing her further away.
At work, we hardly talked. Our conversations were tense and awkward. Even if I couldn’t get her to love me, I wanted things to go back to how they’d been. Being friends with her was better than nothing.
“Bro! EARTH TO JULIAN!”
Lorena snapped her fingers in front of my face and I flinched back to stare at her. She propped her hands on her hips and stared daggers at me.
“I’ve been calling your name for the last five minutes and you’ve been off in la la land.”
I stared out around my sister’s room, at the boxes ready to be moved to the car waiting outside. We’d spent the morning prepping for her departure from the rehab facility and it was time to head out, back to her old apartment in Brooklyn. Our mother had spent the last few days sprucing it up and getting it ready for her to move back in. I’d already gone through a month earlier and thrown away any reminder of her old life, hunting through her cabinets and drawers and tossing anything that could lead her back down the slippery slope.
“Are you ready?” I asked, wrapping my arm across her shoulders and bringing her in for a hug.
She shrugged. “It’s strange how much this place has come to feel like home.”
“Are you nervous to leave?”
She narrowed her eyes and studied the window on the adjacent wall.
“To be honest, I’m ready to test my willpower in the real world. It wasn’t hard to stay clean in here, but I know my friends will hear that I’ve moved back home and not all of them will support my choices.”
I squeezed her shoulder. “They’re vultures, Lorena. Let them circle overhead while you keep your life on track.”
She frowned and nodded. “I know that, it’s just hard to cut people out of your life like that. Not everything is so simple.”
“Well I’m not planning on rushing back to Boston anytime soon. I’ll drop by and we can hangout.”
She groaned. “Cause hanging out with my big brother is sooo cool.”
“Hey! I’m taking you to the final NYFW show tonight. Doesn’t that count for somet
hing?”
“Hey, you’re going as my date!” she said with a laugh. “Look everyone, the phoenix Lorena Lefray, rising from the ashes on the arm of her dorky brother.”
I wasn’t truly excited to go with Lorena to the fashion show. I’d thought of asking Josephine if she’d like to take my place, but it was my sister’s first night back in the real world and I thought it’d be best to stick by her side. She’d been invited to sit in the front row and I’d be sitting there right there beside her.
I smiled. “It still counts. Now, c’mon. Let’s load this stuff up. The car is waiting and if I’m your date you at least owe me dinner first.”
“And here I thought you were easy,” she quipped with a smile.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Josephine
My final night of working at NYFW had finally arrived and I walked in the back entrance of Lincoln Center with mixed emotions. The job had definitely had its rough moments, but I loved being behind the scenes of fashion shows and I was really going to miss the extra income.
With Lily moving to New York soon, I’d be able to make ends meet with just one job, but I still had to help her out until she found a job of her own. She’d been working in restaurants her whole life and had started a food blog a while back. She wasn’t so much a chef as she was a critic. She loved eating good food and prided herself on knowing which restaurants were the best ones in town. New York would be the perfect city for her if only she’d just hurry up and arrive.
I stepped into the dressing room for the final show of the season. Marc Jacobs. Everyone who was anyone would be sitting in the audience and I was backstage working as a glorified janitor. A janitor surrounded by couture wearing black pants, a t-shirt, and a black baseball hat with “NYFW STAFF” stretched across the front. God, why have you forsaken me?
Models, hair stylists, makeup artists, stylists, and designers were running around like worker bees in the center of a hive. Elbows, knees, arms, fists—at any given moment, various body parts were colliding with me as people rushed to finish their jobs. I went back to emptying the trashcan in the corner of the room just as I heard someone start to yell at the front of the room.
