by Amy Sparling
“Just at one of the local department stores,” I say with a smile in response to her compliment. “They were on sale.”
“You always look super cute,” Alexa says, like it’s a fact and not like she’s just trying to be nice.
I laugh. “Thanks, but…I’m not really trying to be.”
“That’s the best part of it,” Alexa buries her head back into her mixing bowl, measuring the right amounts of ingredients. “You’re effortlessly cute. I spend half an hour every morning doing my makeup,” she says with a snort.
Alexa is more like a best friend than a boss. She definitely doesn’t exercise any sort of power hungry demeanor and if anything, she lacks that quality all together. As close knit as we are becoming, I know there will come a day when I’ll have to confess to Alexa that my time at the bakery will have to end.
She knows my dreams of becoming a teacher and I’m sure she’ll understand that once I’m back on my feet with some money in the bank I’ll have to go full steam ahead to pursue that goal. For now, it’s a delightful solution to be able to work with someone you admire and respect and also view as a dear friend.
Another great aspect to Alexa’s appealing personality is she doesn’t overstep her boundaries. She’s never one to pry or ask me annoying questions about my personal life. I know that being able to confide in someone is part of friendship, but another way you can know you’ve got a true friend is when they give you space but are there when you need to vent.
Alexa has already gone above and beyond to help me out by giving me the job here and convincing her cousin to let me live in his house. I already know I’ll be eternally indebted to Alexa. She’s so humble and down to earth that she gracefully never acts like I owe her anything.
I’m lucky to have someone like Alexa in my life, and even though things are weird with Mason, and I’ll eventually go off to college, I hope she’ll stay my friend for life.
I take some dirty spoons in the sink and start washing them, I become mesmerized by the way the vanilla batter slides right off the spoon as the sink water hits it. I don’t mind being up before dawn and coming to work early, because there’s something peaceful and serene about the early hours. It’s quiet and the hustle and bustle of the day hasn’t begun yet. Another great aspect of being on such an early shift is the fact that I get off right after lunch, usually around two or three or by the time Keesha is out of school to clock in and start her shift.
“Oh hey…” Alexa says, still with her back to me as she pours batter into cupcake tins.
“Yeah?” I turn around from my dish washing chore and glance at her expectantly.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you something, but I keep forgetting,” she admits.
“Sure, what is it?” I ask.
Alexa doesn’t respond for a moment or two, using concentration to get the batter poured in at just the right consistency and evenness so the cupcakes will cook at the same rate. When she’s finished pouring the batter out, she places the cupcake tins in the oven and sets the timer.
Turning around, she wipes her hands on her apron and smiles. “I need to ask a favor.”
“Sure, anything,” I say. I’m happy to lend a hand for whatever she needs because she’s already given so much to me.
“I think we should do another book club,” she says and continues to rub her hands on her apron. “The other ladies all take turns hosting, so I want to host again.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” she nods and begins a new project by placing butter in the mixer that’s already soft enough to conform and cream up with the beater.
“Do you think you can ask Mason if we can borrow his gorgeous living room again? The ladies loved it over there…it was a big hit.”
“Oh…” I falter through my shock and awkwardness. “I don’t know…” I trail off because I don’t know how to admit it to Alexa that I haven’t seen Mason in weeks even though I’m currently residing in his house. He’s her cousin – why can’t she ask him?
Something weird happens to Alexa’s expression. Her smile slides off and is replaced with –well, it’s a frown. I realize now that Alexa has never frowned in front of me before.
“What is it?” she asks, brows furrowing. “Something’s wrong.”
I shift my weight uncomfortably and have a difficult time meeting her gaze at first. “Well it’s just um…I haven’t really seen Mason in a while. I’d feel weird asking him about the book club. You should just ask him.”
“You haven’t seen him?” she asks as if she didn’t understand the words I just said.
“Not really.” I shrug with chagrin.
“Hmm,” Alexa ponders. “I’m sorry. That’s rude of him. I just figured you guys would be like best buds by now.”
I’m humiliated, and I know I have to come clean to Alexa. She deserves to know the truth.
“Nope.” I shake my head, denying having so much as an acquaintance in Mason. “I never see Mason and don’t know how to talk to him.” I’m going to take the brutal honesty route this conversation is heading, in the fork in the road.
Alexa waves it off, yet again not willing to pry or fire judgmental accusations my way. That’s just the way Alexa is wired. She sees the potential and the very best in people, no matter what their special circumstances might be.
“Mason can be somewhat of a closed book,” she says, and I chuckle under my breath. Don’t I know it. “He likes to keep to himself a lot of the time,” she further explains. “I wouldn’t worry about it. It’s not you.”
“Yeah…” I trail off in a murmur and feel guilty that I can’t uphold the favor Alexa is asking of me. Nonetheless, she is seeming to take it all in stride. She bounces back and recovers quickly, another astounding trait.
“You don’t need to be scared of him,” she confesses. “He’s a good guy under that gruff exterior.”
I don’t know why I suddenly feel defensive, but my nerves get the better of me. I can’t bring myself to allow the words to spill from my tongue and confess how I made out with him that one time. I’m too embarrassed and I don’t want Alexa to think less of me like I’m a gold-digging slut or something.
Thankfully, Alexa keeps herself busy and doesn’t probe me any further about the book club matter, at least not for now. Then, the bakery opens up at seven and we get busy from the customers and the rush of the day.
That afternoon, I know I have to go home and confront Mason, not only about book club but about our little situation. It’s been too long. It needs to happen now. The clock is ticking, and I feel like Cinderella, only without the prince. My freeloading days will inevitably have an expiration date.
As I wave goodbye to Alexa and Keesha, who has just arrived, I walk out into the beautiful spring afternoon in rural Texas with a pounding anxiety in my heart. I’ll go home, and later I’ll bravely ask to talk to Mason where I’ll suggest I pay rent to cover a spot in his house.
I hate mooching off of him and it’s not in my nature to take something for free without earning it first, something I learned early on from my mom, who’s now passed. I already vowed to work toward my goal of finishing up my teaching degree. And I’ll work up the guts to talk to him. I’m going to do everything I need to do to get my life on track.
I decide to go for a walk in the park to clear my head and work up the courage to approach Mason before returning home. I just have to tell myself that nothing is permanent, and it can only get better from here.
***
Hours later, I pull into the driveway in the spot right next to Mason’s shiny, brand new Chevy truck. The first night after arriving at Mason’s to live here, he gave me his spare garage door opener instead of a key so I could access the house.
Like every afternoon or evening, I push the little button on the device that I keep on my car visor. The garage opens, and I walk inside to the sound of music coming from inside the house. I assume that Mason is in the living room, which rushes me with relief because here I am thinking tha
t fate and the universe are throwing me a bone.
Mason is out of his own room for easy access and approachability. This provides me with the opportunity to ask him about the rent and book club. I can finally do what I should have done three weeks ago. I have to let him know that I’m not a freeloading bimbo and I want to pull my own weight around here.
I push open the mud room door leading from the garage into the main house off the kitchen. I toss my bag into my room, and then I take a deep breath and shove my hands in my pockets before bravely walking out into the living room.
Only, once I get there, I stop dead in my tracks and glance around. I’m shocked to see several guys hanging out, laughing, and relaxing on the couch over a few beers. The weirdest part of this situation? None of the guys are Mason.
Chapter 17
It’s a fantastic night for drinking some beers with the guys and grilling hamburgers. After I bought this lake house, my beautiful streamlined stainless-steel grill was one of my very first purchases. I had happened to be in the hardware store at the time looking for light bulbs when I came across the grill. It was perfect and came with all kinds of gadgets including a really awesome bucket for frying and a side section for smoking meats. It reminded me of my childhood, and how most of my best memories were spent in the back yard with my dad grilling.
I use this grill all the time and it’s definitely one of my prized possessions, especially now in the spring when the weather is perfect for being outdoors. I take a long sip of my cold beer, relishing in the way it slides refreshingly cool down my throat.
There’s nothing better than a Friday night, looking forward to the weekend ahead and enjoying some burgers with some buddies. My friend Chris, the mechanic from the shop, is over with a few people on his friend’s crew that have become my friends too over the years. We all hang out occasionally when the married guys can get away from their wives. I also invited a few guys I met at the shop, motorcycle guys and a few motocross racers.
Chris is a real people person, more so than me. He’s friendly and chatty, always the life of the party. He brought over Thomas and Mike, whom I’ve had the opportunity to get closer to over the years. Thomas is Chris’ friend from high school. They go back forever and are basically brothers.
Mike is one of Chris’ cousins and he likes to tag along whenever we do something. He is obsessed with UFC fights. He’s been in several competitions over the years himself and used to be a boxer in high school and some in college. I think he’s got a hidden anger problem that makes him love fighting so much, but as long as he doesn’t get too drunk, he’s fine to be around.
Part of the reason the guys wanted to come over today is because there’s a wildly popular fight on TV tonight and Mike wanted to gather everybody over at my house since I have a huge living room and a ninety-inch flat screen mounted to the wall above my fireplace. My house is the party house.
I don’t mind. I know it just comes with the territory. Naturally, whoever of the group has the biggest house and the best tv is going to be the one that the people flock to. I’m proud to oblige and be the host, although it means I have to do all of the cooking and cleaning. It’s been a while since they’ve come over. Everything always gets so busy with work and families, but I’m grateful for these hangout sessions when they do come along.
The house has been too quiet and lonely lately and I’m ready to cut loose and have a good time with some great friends. There is one guy that Mike brought along that I don’t know very well. Chris vouches for him though and says he’s a good friend of theirs, even though this is the first time I’m meeting him. His name is Nick, and he’s about my age, slightly muscular but I think he’s mostly just stocky. He just has this look about him, like he’s up to no good. Maybe I’m just being judgmental.
When I hear the sliding glass door roll open from the back deck where I’m grilling, I turn around and notice that he’s walking toward me. I immediately tense up because I don’t know this guy and I hope he’s not out here to open up the flood gates of communication when I don’t even have a buzz going yet.
“Hey man,” he says and gives me a fist bump in greeting.
“Hey,” I say politely and take a sip of my beer.
“This is some dope place you’ve got here.” Nick points out to the lake and looks around, up to the roof.
“Thanks,” I say and flip the burgers, so they can get some flame love from the opposite side.
“I bet it’s a real chick magnet huh?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.
“I wouldn’t know,” I mumble and focus my attention back to the burgers, careful not to burn them.
I don’t know Nick very well, but he’s not making a good first impression. He seems like a former frat boy that never grew out of his idiot days.
“Well that leads me to my next point.” Nick chuckles, walking around the deck while clutching his beer.
I turn around to look at him. “I’m sorry?”
Nick’s mouth spreads into a devilish grin. “That hottie in your house? She yours?”
“What?” I shake my head, having absolutely no clue what he is talking about. I thought the guys agreed not to bring wives or girlfriends tonight.
Nick glances back inside and licks his lips. This guy is a slime ball and I’m not a fan. “Cool, so she’s not yours? I was hoping she was your sister or something.”
I crane my neck to look inside and my heart plummets through my chest, through my legs and splatters onto the deck by my feet.
It’s Livi.
Shit, I almost forgot she was living here. She’s so quiet and keeps to herself so much that when I get home every night it’s almost as if I’m still living alone. That doesn’t change the private fact that I am having dreams about her every night. Some of them are sexy, some of them are just the two of us talking, laughing and engaging each other in friendly company.
The night we kissed was a great night for me, but I still have to hold my ground. No matter how cute and sweet she is, I can’t leave my heart out there in the wild open, exposed to another cruel girl.
“Oh…” I trail off, narrowing my eyes to study her. She’s standing there, looking nervous and timid. Her mouth is moving so I assume she’s talking to someone that’s in the living room and not visible, since she’s standing at the edge of the kitchen.
Her arms are crossed protectively over her chest and she looks so clean, gorgeous and utterly perfect. In spite of my observance, I don’t know Nick, and have no intention of revealing my true emotions, especially when I’m still trying to figure them out myself.
I glance back at Nick, who’s staring at me expectantly, with a hungry grin splashed on his face. He’s wearing a Red Sox baseball cap that’s positioned with the bill behind his head.
“So?”
“So…what?” I shrug because I don’t want to discuss Livi with this prick.
“Who is she? Your sister?” His voice is eager.
“She’s not my sister,” I say and focus my work on the burgers. “Do you know how many burgers we need?” I ask him, trying to change the subject.
Ignoring me, this guy hounds me with question after question about Livi. If she’s single, how old she is, what kind of guys she likes. I don’t even know her that well, so if he wants to unlock the key to her past…he’s come to the wrong person.
“So she’s not your girlfriend or anything?”
“Nope.” I shake my head and refuse to make eye contact with him.
“Sister?”
“Nope,” I say again and take a huge swig of my beer because it’s the only thing calming my nerves and standing between my fist and this guy’s face.
“Does that mean she’s fair game?”
This time I begrudgingly glance up at him. “She’s just a friend of Alexa’s,” I murmur.
“Alexa? That girl that owns the bakery on Main Street?” This guy must think I’m a fucking walking encyclopedia.
“Yep.”
“Hmm,” he sa
ys. “They’re both sexy. But only one of them is here tonight.”
I don’t answer him and keep my back to his gaze. The silence weighs heavily in the air but to my surprise, the guy still doesn’t take the hint that I’m not interested in continuing this conversation any further.
“Will anyone mind if I ask her out?” I can’t believe he has the audacity to ask me this.
I don’t know why this bothers me, but the idea of this creep near Livi makes me want to hurl. Regardless, it’s none of my business what he does, or what she does for that matter because I’m not involved with her in any capacity.
I have no idea whether Livi would even accept his offer for a date and frankly it seems a little presumptuous, but I have no say in the matter.
“Do what you want,” I tell him with a shrug. I have to bite my tongue to prevent myself from saying something cynical or patronizing on his behalf.
“Thanks, dude.” Nick slaps my back affectionately as if my blessing to date Livi suddenly shifts us into ‘bro status.’
“For what?” I grumble.
“You know, for letting me go out with her,” Nick chuckles.
“You might want to ask her first,” I point the spatula in Livi’s direction through the glass panes of the sliding door.
“Oh…I intend to, bro,” Nick laughs with a chauvinistic quality that makes my blood boil. I grit my teeth and bite my tongue again.
Nick pulls open the door and I can hear the soft buzz of my company chatting and the TV sound in the background. The door slides shut after his departure, and the world is silent again. I take a deep breath and pull the burgers off the grill one at a time, placing them on a clean plate so not to worry with cross-contamination.
I bring the burgers inside, holding them steadily on the plate like a tiny mountain of meat. Everyone whistles and drools over the appearance.
“Wow, those look amazing dude,” Chris admits and walks into the kitchen with me.
“Thanks,” I say and steal a glance at Livi when I pass by her. She blushes and glances at the floor.