Happy New You

by St John Brown, Brenda

  “Fine.” She exhales and strikes a pose, complete with a plastered-on smile. “Exactly how ridiculous do I look?”

  “On a scale of one to what-do-you-care-what-people-think, I’d say you look perfect.” And she does. Most people I know would run the other direction if I told them their job for the day was dressing up like a bodily organ in NYC summer heat and posing for pictures with random people, but Al is taking it better than I could have hoped.

  Today is my annual fundraising event for the Healthy Kids, Happy Hearts Foundation. Their organization does some amazing work to help public schools with nutrition education and physical activity programs. I’m a firm believer that when kids start early, it leads not only to lifelong healthy habits, but better success in school. So this project is close to my heart, no pun intended.

  My girlfriend—let me repeat that, my girlfriend—knows how much it means to me, so she’s agreed to give me her entire Saturday. It’s not lost on me that this time last year, she would have been holed up in her office conjuring up contract negotiation spells and not out at Central Park preparing to strut her stuff in a tacky costume to make some kids smile.

  “Thanks again for doing this.”

  “Well, I can’t let you have all the fun, now can I?” She sends me a saucy grin, one that makes me think of the way she looks at me when I’m undressing her. Yeah, I know I’ve got it bad when she can turn me on while looking like a giant red marshmallow.

  The last few weeks have been a revelation. Since the first time we slept together, everything has just clicked into place and I finally understand why all those annoyingly happy couples out there are so damn annoying. They can’t fucking help it. It’s like I’ve been living for the last twenty years secure in the knowledge that Santa Claus doesn’t exist and then—BAM—he shows up on my front steps with the keys to a Ferrari and a nice big hug just for me. In other words, life has been pretty freaking sweet.

  I take Allison’s hand and lead her out from behind the tent to the main event area. Stations are set up with games and a few vendor tents, and a small stage sits to the right. A couple local bands have volunteered their time and the first one is setting up equipment while more volunteers get the relay-race area prepped. The event isn’t huge, but thanks to my client connections, I’ve been able to gain some steady sponsors and gradually scale it up each year.

  The first year I did the fundraiser, it was just a massive tug-of-war competition with a bunch of people from the various gyms I frequent, and I’m proud of how much it’s grown since. But the tug-of-war is still the main event. I mean, who doesn’t feel a secret satisfaction witnessing the moment when the balance is tipped and the losing team members fall like dominoes into a giant pit of mud? And it’s all for charity so there’s that too.

  Seth wanders over, his hair mostly tamed and his T-shirt and shorts looking like he’s only slept in them for one night. He grins at Allison. “Lookin’ good, Ms. Gottlieb. I’ll be your humble servant for the day.” He bows and holds out his phone. For as hard a time as I give him, he’s come through for me with this year’s event, helping me do some behind-the-scenes work and volunteering to take the photos of Allison and the attendees and post them on social media.

  “Make sure you get my good side,” Allison quips, striking another pose and puckering her lips.

  Seth straightens and puts a hand over his heart. “I highly doubt you have a bad one.”

  I toss his volunteer badge at him and he barely manages to catch it. “Stop flirting with my woman.”

  Allison snickers and I see one of the vendors flagging me down from across the way. I take a step in that direction before turning back to Seth and Al. “Behave. And thanks, guys.” I stride away and mentally prepare for the crazy day ahead.

  * * *

  Two hours later the event is in full swing and I’m sweating my ass off running from one end of the venue to the other. Folk rock music from the band on stage blends with the chatter of the crowd and occasional bursts of cheering and laughter from the relay-race area. A decent line has formed for the races and I know it’s due in no small part to the well-muscled guys I recruited to run the games and collect the donations. I’ve done my part as well, posing for selfies with my Insta followers and shaking hands with attendees until my wrist aches and my teeth are about to crack. But it’s all worth it.

  My eyes scan the crowd until I spot the bright red heart by the side of the stage. Allison is laughing at something Seth is showing her on his phone. Her face is almost as red as her costume and I feel my chest swell. She’s got to be uncomfortable as hell, yet there she is smiling and laughing as she throws her weight behind my cause.

  I need to make sure she’s hydrating; her face color tells me she’s not, so I turn to the refreshment station, intent on grabbing a cold water for her. But I’m intercepted.

  “Nice touch.” A woman with shoulder-length copper hair and large sunglasses holds up one of the apples with a lightning bolt sticker we’ve been passing out to the crowd.

  I give her a polite smile. “Thanks. You know what they say about an apple a day.”

  She holds a hand out with a smile of her own. “Mateo Ramirez, I presume.” I shake her hand and she clears up the mystery. “Dakota Swift.”

  Holy shit. My eyes widen and I hope I don’t look like an overeager puppy. “So nice to meet you. Thanks for coming.” I realize I’m still shaking her hand so I drop it as calmly as possible.

  I’ve been in touch with her by email, but this is the first time I’m meeting my potential investor in person. After Dani gave me her wife’s card, I sent an introductory letter and invited her to check out my online presence. When she seemed receptive, I followed that up with a basic outline of my business plan so she could decide if she wanted to set up a meeting. It’s been slow going, and I honestly wasn’t sure if she was all that interested, but that didn’t mean I had any plans of giving up. To that end, I invited her to come to the fundraiser to get a feel for my energy and the nature of my passion. I never thought she’d actually show!

  She lifts her sunglasses as she looks over the crowd—the best one we’ve had yet—and nods. “Impressive.” She’s got an unmistakably confident demeanor, but she’s also low-key. I take in the white top she has knotted at the side, as well as her flat sandals and array of necklaces I can’t even begin to understand. “How about you show me around?”

  “Absolutely.” I gesture for her to begin and fall into step beside her.

  By the time Dakota Swift leaves, I’ve not only secured a hefty donation to Healthy Kids, Happy Hearts, but a meeting at her office as well. I’m walking on air when I weave through the crowd on a hunt for Allison. I haven’t told her about Dakota yet—I’ve gotten my hopes up too many times only to crash and burn when a potential investor falls through. Seeing the disappointment in her face would only make it worse if this one doesn’t pan out. Regardless, I still want to share my elation with Allison, even if she doesn’t know the cause of it. But the giant red eyesore is nowhere to be found. I finally locate Seth, though, and wait for him to finish flirting with one of the volunteers before pulling him aside.

  “Hey, man, where’s Allison?”

  His eyes follow the woman’s backside as she walks away, but he manages to multitask. “Oh, she went to change out of her costume.”

  Shit. There I was mingling and networking while she was sweating herself sick in that thing and still managing to smile and pose for pictures.

  “Is she okay?” I should have made sure she had water.

  Seth finally looks at me. “She was great for the most part. Then she kind of went downhill fast and said she needed to go.”

  Damn. I jog to the tent where we stashed our stuff and find her standing inside dressed in just her T-shirt and shorts, phone in hand and a frown in place.

  “I’m so sorry, Al.” I take her by the shoulders and square her toward me. “Are you sick? Have you had water?”

  She looks up from her phone. “What
?”

  Crap, it’s worse than I thought.

  Her chin tips down again and her thumbs work over her phone as the crease between her brows deepens.

  Or not.

  “I thought you were sick. I was worried.” I drop my hands from her shoulders and she mumbles something incoherent as she continues typing.

  She finally shoves the phone in her back pocket and takes a deep inhale. “Sorry. Something happened with work.” Her eyes meet mine. “What were you saying?”

  My hand goes to the back of my neck. “Uh, I thought you were sick. Seth said...”

  She shakes her head. “No, I’m fine. Not that I don’t want to burn that costume to a pile of ash, mind you. I have sweat in places I didn’t know were possible.”

  That makes me smile and I move back in to tuck a strand of sweaty hair behind her ear. “Well, let’s get you some water. The main event is starting in ten minutes, so you’ll get to see me pull a bunch of guys into the mud.”

  She shakes her head. “I have to go. I missed something on a document and I need to fix it.”

  My smile falters. “It’s Saturday. Can’t you just do it tonight or tomorrow?”

  “No. I need to do it now, Matty.” She bites her lip and gives her head another shake, that crease making a comeback between her brows. She raises up on her toes and kisses my cheek before turning to grab her bag. “Good luck at tug-of-war. I know you’ll kick ass.” Then she throws me a weak smile over her shoulder and she’s gone.

  21

  Allison

  July

  I knock on Mateo’s door with my metaphorical tail tucked between my legs. It’s been a week of putting out fires at work and hurried phone calls and late-night texts with my boyfriend.

  Yes, my boyfriend. Allison Singleforever Gottlieb has a boyfriend.

  Turns out I’m a shit girlfriend, but that doesn’t actually surprise me. The work-life balance still eludes me. I feel split in two most of the time lately.

  The worst of it is, I want to be with Mateo. Part of me wants to throw caution, my career, and my panties to the wind and lean in hard to this relationship.

  But then I remember how my mom floundered when my dad died. She’d given him everything, and when he was gone, she was left with nothing. She didn’t have a career, or savings, or really a life outside of his. I promised myself a long time ago I’d never end up like that.

  Somewhere along the line, that promise to myself has gotten twisted and confused, and now I’m in that exact relationship...with my job.

  I look at Dani and I wonder how she does it. She stays late, sure, but not every damn night. She takes entire weekends off and even manages to take a vacation with her wife every year. I’m not sure I entirely trust her yet, but I need to take notes on how she does it.

  The door opens, but my contrite smile falls when I see who’s answering: all-American Hillary.

  She smiles. “I know you! You’re the awesome axe thrower!”

  “That would be me,” I answer. And you’re the chick who was hanging off my man all night. Even though he wasn’t my man then. And I didn’t quite know I wanted him to be. But you should have read the room, sister.

  She steps back to let me in, and that’s when I notice what she’s wearing: a loose Beast Mode T-shirt and nothing else.

  Hillary blinks at me, still smiling. “Are you here to see Seth?”

  “No,” I say. I give her another once-over, just to check if she’s actually mostly naked in my boyfriend’s apartment, wearing his T-shirt. Where’s an axe when I need one?

  She turns on her heel, walking merrily to the kitchen. “Want a beer?” she tosses over her shoulder.

  “Got whiskey?” I mutter.

  She sticks her adorable face out of the kitchen. “What was that?”

  I shake my head. “Nothing. And no thanks, I’m good.” My fingers dig into the handle of my briefcase. “Is Mateo available?”

  Just as she’s about to answer, Seth comes ambling into the living room, rubbing his damp hair with a towel. He stops short when he sees me, but his smile is quick to grow.

  “Doll! What a surprise.” He sweeps me into an awkward hug...awkward because he’s only wearing a towel low around his hips.

  I pull away, smoothing the front of my suit jacket. “The plan was to surprise Mateo. I went to work at six in the morning, just so I could leave by five tonight, and then I came all the way out here to Queens and I...is Matty…?”

  I wait for Seth to supply Matty’s location, but he only smirks at me, like he’s enjoying how clearly uncomfortable I am.

  I sigh. “Where is he?”

  Seth taps my nose. “You messed up last weekend.”

  I sigh again, more heavily this time. “I know, Seth. I’m trying though. Is he here?”

  Hillary sidles up to Seth, wrapping her tan, toned limbs around him like a vine. She holds her beer up and he takes a sip, then smacks her ass.

  I groan. “Seth...where’s Mateo?”

  “Ah, the diner across the street. He’s working on something for—” Hillary snakes a hand up his chest, and whatever he was about to say is forgotten. It doesn’t matter though. I now know where Mateo is, and if I don’t leave this apartment soon, I have a feeling I’ll wind up in the middle of an exhibitionist situation, and sadly, it wouldn’t be the first time. I shudder at the memory of the saggy old balls of the guy who lived in the building across the alley from my first post-law-school apartment. While I thought it was great he still loved to dance at his advanced age, I could have done without seeing him do it in front of his window, in the nude, every damn morning.

  When I walk into the diner, I’m hit with a mix of Spanish and Greek being shouted in the kitchen, and the smell of burnt coffee and greasy French fries. I swivel my head back and forth, searching for Matty, and then I find him, tucked in a booth in the corner, bent over a laptop. I stay where I am for just a moment, watching him.

  There’s a little line between his eyebrows. He only gets it when he concentrates, and when we’re together, it mostly appears when he’s working my body in the bedroom or he’s looking at me when he thinks I don’t notice. I love that line.

  Mateo doesn’t look up from his screen until I slide into the seat across from him.

  “Hey, Matty,” I say.

  The corners of his mouth lift a little. “Al.” He rubs his eyes. “I’ve gotta be dreaming. It’s not even seven on a weekday and you’re in Queens.”

  I kick him under the table, and he winces. “See? Real.”

  He reaches under the table to rub his leg. “Shit. Do you have actual spikes in your heels?”

  I cover my mouth, eyes wide. “Did I hurt you?” My hand drops heavily on the table, sending a spoon clanging. “I keep screwing up! I came here to apologize, and the first thing I do is maim you. Are you okay?”

  He lets out a short laugh. “I’m just messing with you. I’m actually kind of disturbed by the lack of force behind your kick. Clearly we need to work on the leg presses and squats.” He cocks his head. “What are you doing here, Al?”

  I slide my hand across the table, my fingertips grazing his. “I still feel like shit for running out on your event last weekend. I would’ve been here sooner—should’ve been here sooner—but today was the first time I felt like I had the situation under control.” We’ve talked almost every day this week, but I wanted to look into his eyes so he could see how truly sorry I am.

  He studies our hands, and then he picks mine up and twines our fingers together. “That sucked. It really, really sucked. I wanted you there. I wanted you in my corner, and you bailed without even hesitating.”

  I squeeze his hand. “You’re right. I didn’t hesitate. I don’t know how to not ask ‘how high?’ when work says ‘jump,’ you know? I just hope you believe I wanted to be there for you.”

  “I do believe that. But I kinda need you to show me. I can’t be the only one rearranging my life to find a place for you. It’s gotta be a two-way street or it won�
��t work.”

  “I want you to know how proud I am of you, Matty.” I meet his eyes, making sure he’s really listening. “That fundraiser was amazing, and everything you’ve done with your career over these last few years has been so impressive. I know I didn’t exactly jump on board the supportive train when you told me why you were quitting law school, but seeing you Saturday really opened my eyes.”

  He exhales, his eyes lowering to the table for a moment. “That means everything, Al. Well, not everything. Having each other’s backs is what I really care about. Because I’ll always have yours, no matter what.”

  I smile and suck in a fortifying breath. There’s one more thing I have to tell him.

  “I did a thing.”

  He laughs but looks worried. “What thing?”

  “So, you know the obstacle course I’m running in November?”

  “Of course.”

  I rush the words out, not sure how he’ll react. “Well, the firm usually hires a celebrity judge, so I may have told Marla, the woman organizing the event, about your Instagram page. She was...impressed. You’ll be hearing from her next week. I thought maybe you could meet some contacts at the event and I...” I cringe. “I was trying to do a good thing. Did I do a good thing?”

  He’s silent, staring at me. Then he smiles his gorgeous Matty smile and the knot in my stomach unfurls. “Yeah, I think you did a really good thing. Thank you, Al.”

  There’s too much distance between us, so I move around to the other side of the booth, fitting myself against him. “Hi,” I say softly.

  He strokes my hair, his eyes on mine. “There you are.”

  “I’m trying, Matty. Trust me when I tell you, I’d rather be with you than buried under a pile of contracts. All my past boyfriends have either been in law school with me, or busy lawyers themselves. They understood—”