Happily Ever After: A Romance Collection

by Amelia Wilde

  “Hey, bitch,” she says with a smile and slides in across from me.

  “Hello, whore.”

  This is something we do from time to time and we both know it’s meant in jest, neither of us taking offense.

  “I wish,” she says. “This week has been a real dry spell.” She tosses her purse beside her on the bench seat.

  “What happened to that guy you were with when I called from Cole’s house that morning?”

  She waves me off and rolls her eyes. “He got clingy.”

  Ah. There’s nothing that Lennon hates more than a guy who expects something more from her than just her vagina. As soon as he shows the tiniest glimpse of wanting to move the relationship into more serious territory, she has him half out of her bed.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” The cute bartender is back and places my drink in front of me.

  Lennon is immediately sizing him up, not at all hiding the fact that she’s checking him out and liking what she sees. She smiles and bats her eyelashes at him, turning on the charm. “What would you recommend?”

  He gives her a half-crooked smile, having gotten her memo. “I make a killer Mountain Dew Me.”

  “I bet you do.” She bites her bottom lip and I roll my eyes, but neither of them are paying any attention to me. “I tend to prefer my cocktails,” she says, emphasizing the word ‘cock,’ “a little rougher than that.”

  Somehow, she says this with a straight face.

  “Give me a minute and I’ll bring you back something to wet your whistle.”

  Lennon’s grin grows. “How about I wet your whistle later?”

  “Okay, enough,” I interrupt. “We need to talk.” I shift my attention to the guy. “Can you just bring her a drink?”

  He shoots me a half-annoyed look before he leaves the table.

  “Why did you do that?” Lennon whines after he’s left.

  “Really? You two were eye-fucking each other and I’m sitting right here in crisis mode. After we’re done, feel free to screw him six ways to Sunday.”

  “Oh, sweetie,” she says and pats my hand like I’m a child. “I’ll screw him six ways before the sun comes up tomorrow.”

  I let out an exasperated sigh.

  She laughs. “Now, what’s going on with Cole?”

  “How do you know it has to do with him?” I reach for my drink and take a sip.

  This time it’s Lennon rolling her eyes. “Please. I know you.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that any time you can’t control something… like your feelings for a guy… you freak out. You don’t like relying on someone and when you’re falling for a guy you have to give up some of your control and independence. You don’t like that.” She shrugs as if it’s obvious.

  I sit silent for a moment, processing what she’s just said. All I can come up with is that she’s right. I don’t want to rely on anyone else. I’ve been let down too many times. It’s better just to count on yourself. That way, no one has the power to hurt you.

  “You know I’m right,” she says in a sing-song voice.

  The bartender reappears and sets a large, red drink down in front of her.

  “Here you go. I made a Suck, Bang and Blow special for you,” he says with a wink.

  Lennon leans forward as seductively as possible and with no hands wraps her lips around the straw and takes a sip. “Mmm,” she moans with way too much enthusiasm.

  “You like?” he asks.

  She flicks her gaze to his crotch before responding. “I do.”

  “That’s some pretty nice ink you have there.” He points to her arm, sporting a full sleeve of tattoos. “I’ve been thinking of adding to my own. Where’d you get it done?”

  “At my own shop,” she says proudly. Lennon reaches for her purse and pulls out a business card adorned with her ‘What Are You Inking?’ logo and information, then passes it to him.

  “Cool,” he says.

  “Take that for now,” she says. “I’ll come talk to you about it after we’re done. You can show me where you’re thinking of putting it and maybe then I’ll show you my version of Suck, Bang and Blow.”

  He smiles like he’s just won the damn lottery. “Abso-fucking-lutely.” He grins at her for another second before heading back over to the bar.

  Lennon immediately turns her attention back to me. “Okay, spill. What’s happening with you and Cole?” She pivots so easily away from her last conversation that it’s like she didn’t just offer herself up to some guy in front of me.

  And so, I tell her about our agreement to get along and work together for Tahlia and Chase’s sake and about our time checking out all the places and then finally the kiss.

  “So, what do I do?” I ask when I’m done.

  “Hmm.” That’s all she says after I pour my heart out.

  “What does that mean?”

  She puts her finger up. “Hang on. I’m processing.”

  I take another long sip of my drink while I wait. And wait.

  “Well?”

  “I think it’s a question of whether you think there is really something between you or if you’re just attracted to him and want to bump uglies with him. You do want to bang him again, right?”

  “Well, he tells me I referred to his junk as unicorn cock the night we hooked up, so it’s safe to say I was into it.”

  “Unicorn cock!” Lennon practically shouts and smacks her hand down on the table in front of her. “That’s awesome. Why didn’t I think of that? I need to get that on a t-shirt.”

  “Can you be serious for a second?”

  “Sorry.” She works to compose herself then asks. “Well, which is it? Are there feelings between you two or do you just want him balls deep in your business?”

  “How are we even friends?” I shake my head.

  She winks. “You love me.”

  “Sadly, yes. And to answer your question I don’t really know. After everything that happened all those years ago… I don’t know if I could ever really let that go. I mean, maybe he’s matured since then, I’d like to think that I have also, but still. He’s responsible for so much going wrong in my life—”

  “Does he know that?”

  “Are you kidding me?” I screw my face up and look over at her and then pick up my drink.

  “So, hit it and quit it. Get it out of your system.” She shrugs like it’s just that easy. “But if this is going to be something, Whit, you have to tell him about that night. All of it.”

  I decide to ignore her last comment. “How do you do it? How do you find it so easy to walk away from them all?”

  She gives a small laugh. “It’s different. I can love ’em and leave ’em because I don’t care about them. I’m there for the adventure and the good times. You… you care. Even though you don’t want to.” She gives me a sad smile and reaches across the table to squeeze my hand.

  Damn it. She’s right.

  “What about Tahlia?” I ask. “I don’t like keeping this from her, but she’s got so much going on right now.”

  “Tell me about it. Every time I talk to her lately I think she’s one second away from a complete mental breakdown. I thought weddings were supposed to be fun?”

  “Should I tell her?”

  Lennon shakes her head. “No. Not unless you think it’s going somewhere. If you’re just screwing around, then have your fun and mention it after the wedding’s over and you’ve both moved on.”

  My gut is telling me the same thing… that one more piece of straw on the camel’s back would break Tahl. She has enough going on right now and doesn’t need to be bothered with my problems.

  “I think you’re right. Thanks babe.”

  She picks up her drink and clinks it with mine. “Anytime. This bitch has got your back.”

  “I’m the bitch. You’re the whore, remember?”

  She laughs. “True enough. And in that vein, if we’re done here, I’m about to go shore up my prospects over there.
” She nods toward the bar and the bartender who’s still watching her every move.

  “Go.” I laugh and wave her off.

  I need to adopt a little of Lennon’s personality. If I’m going to have to be around Cole again I’m either going to have to take it as the fun it has the potential to be or ignore my desire completely. That feels like a tall order, but I’m not one to back down from a challenge.

  As soon as the thought crosses my mind, my phone rings and presents me with my next challenge. But this is a good one.

  17

  Nerves have me shaking like a Stepford wife being weaned off Valium. I open the heavy glass doors of the skyscraper downtown and step into the WHFI lobby. When she called the other night to offer me an on-camera test, the human resources lady said to go to the thirty-first floor this time.

  I suck in a deep breath to pull myself together as my heels click on the tile floor while I cross the large lobby toward the elevators. I chose to wear a navy pencil skirt with cream-colored cami underneath the matching jacket. It’s uncomfortable as hell, but it’s the closest thing I have to something that screams newscaster.

  Right before I enter the elevator my phone vibrates in my purse. I pull it out to take a look as the elevator starts and stops, letting people on and off.

  Cole: Tahlia mentioned that you got a call back. Good luck today. Head over to the bar after and I’ll buy you a celebratory drink. No whiskey I promise. ;)

  Wow. That’s almost sweet of him, though I’m not sure what to think given the fact that we haven’t even spoken since the kiss. Even so, I smile down at my phone, probably looking like a lunatic. The elevator dings again and when I glance up I realize it’s at my floor.

  “Excuse me. Excuse me.” I push my way to the front of the car and make it out right before the doors pancake me. I take another quick glance at my phone before I put it back into my purse.

  “I see that guy’s still putting a smile on your face.”

  My head snaps up to see Kelsey standing in front of me. I’m impressed that I even remember her name because I usually have the memory of a goldfish for things like that.

  “You got a call back, too,” I say, ignoring her comment about Cole.

  She nods enthusiastically and I take in her outfit. Kelsey has on a pair of black cigarette pants and a dressy, patterned tank top. She looks like she’s ready for a night out with the girls and I look like I’m ready for church.

  “Okay, why do I look like Dorothy from The Golden Girls compared to you?”

  She laughs. “You’re so funny.”

  She’s cute. She thinks I’m joking.

  “Really though. The least I could have done was go for the slutty one, Blanche.”

  “When HR called, she said to wear something I’d typically wear if I was headed out to dinner.”

  Crap. I must have missed the memo.

  “She didn’t tell me that.” My stomach feels like I have a carnival ride spinning around and around inside it and I suck in a breath and place a hand over my middle.

  “We’re interviewing for different jobs. Maybe it’s just the sportscaster position they wanted in more casual clothes. She said they’re trying to appeal to a younger demographic.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” I chew on my bottom lip for a second. “How did you do?”

  Now she looks nervous. “I think I did okay.” She shrugs. “It’s hard to say. They don’t really comment or anything after you’re done.”

  “Okay, well, I’d better get in there.”

  “Good luck,” she says brightly.

  “Thanks. Same to you.”

  As I head off to my on-camera testing I find myself hoping that she gets the position just as much as myself.

  The studio lights blaring down on me feel oppressive, like a heavy blanket smothering me, but I smile into the camera.

  “Okay, so just read from the teleprompter and deliver the lines while looking straight into the camera,” the producer says, standing back by the cameraman. “We’ll cut to tape and when that’s finished rolling you’re up again. Don’t worry about the content at this point. We just want to see how you do on camera.”

  I suck in a big breath and nod.

  “Do you have any questions before we begin?”

  “No, I think I’m good.”

  “Okay then. Roll tape.” He counts me down and I smile while I wait for the theme music for the station before I begin.

  The words scroll past on the teleprompter and I speak in my most natural, articulated voice without giving too much thought to the content.

  “Last night was a big one for the San Francisco Film Society as they hosted yet another successful opening night for the city’s annual Film Fest. Producers, actors, and screenwriters alike joined the public for the debut of some of this year’s most talked-about films. While everyone had plenty to say about what they saw on the big screen, the fans’ eyes outside were on some of the up-and-coming stars who stepped out onto the red carpet.”

  The prompter says, “Cut to tape,” and so I smile in what I hope is a natural way at the camera.

  The tape starts and I look behind me to where something has caught my eye. The TV built into the wall replays footage of expensively dressed people smiling and posing for photos on a red carpet, some of whom I recognize as being actors and actress who’ve recently broken onto the scene. It cuts to an interview with a blonde woman I don’t recognize and then they pan to the man she’s with.

  A man I know.

  Because he had his tongue down my throat a few days ago.

  Cole is there with his arm wrapped around the waist of an exotic-looking woman. I know for sure it’s him because his name is listed underneath as if the universe is really trying to rub it in.

  My mouth dries and my throat tightens in response.

  I don’t think it’s recent because the Cole on screen looks a little different than he does now, but seeing him on there enjoying the company of another woman stings. It’s a reminder of who he is and how he treated me all those years ago. And then I think of what was taken away from me back then and my heart begins to beat harder in my chest as the memories of the disappointment and hurt I dealt with flood through me, filling up every crevice.

  I stare on as the interviewer finishes up with her questions for Cole and then the screen goes blank.

  I will not think about this now. I will not think about this now.

  Somehow, I manage to turn and direct my attention back to the teleprompter and carry on with a smile. Once I’m done, the producer thanks me for coming in and telling me that I should hear something within the next week or two.

  Nothing seems to be going according to plan lately and I leave there with my fingers and toes crossed that this might be the one thing that works out the way I’m hoping. I’ve had enough surprises lately.

  18

  I decide that I will head over to the Thirsty Monk to see if Cole is around. Besides, we still have a couple of locations to visit and we need to discuss when we’re going to do that anyway. These are the kinds of excuses you tell yourself when you’re trying to justify your behavior. I just don’t want to face the fact that I shouldn’t accept Cole’s invitation to hang out.

  Opting for the bus over Uber seems like the responsible thing to do since I need to watch my spending, so it takes me a while to make it to the bar. By the time I do the heels I’m wearing are stabbing my feet and I just want to sit down.

  As soon as I enter the pub I glance around. There’s only a few other people here, which I suppose is normal since it’s just after lunch on a week day. I spot Cole speaking to the blonde bartender from the night I met him. They appear to be deep in conversation and I don’t want to interrupt so I slink off and sit in a booth in the back corner. I can still see them from here and I watch as Cole’s face turns serious and he places a hand on the girl’s cheek. He nods and then she says something else. She’s gazing up into his eyes like he’s her savior or something but damn it, I can’t see Co
le’s expression. They embrace and a sickly feeling invades my stomach, which I know is not good news because I should not be feeling anything other than disinterest at the fact that Cole is hugging another woman. But that combined with the tape I saw at the audition has me wondering why I even headed over here.

  They separate and she goes back behind the bar to do whatever it is stupid girls who hug their bosses do, and Cole turns to head in the direction of the kitchen. He must spot me out of the corner of his eye because he whirls back and locks his gaze with mine from across the room.

  There’s a brief second where his eyes flare and a panicked look creeps into them, but it’s gone just as fast. I wonder if he’s concerned about what I saw. The earlier expression is replaced with a slow, easy smile as his long strides eat up the distance between us.

  He looks good today. Damn good. He’s wearing a worn pair of jeans and a plaid lumbersexual shirt that’s fitted enough to see how fit he is underneath. His sandy brown hair is a little messy and though he’s not sporting a beard, the five o’clock shadow is in full effect.

  “Hey.” He slides into the booth on the opposite side of me. Cole smiles and it seems genuine, which is good because I was beginning to think that I was a complete idiot to come here. “How did the interview go?”

  “It went okay. I managed not to make a complete ass of myself, so that’s a bonus.” I shrug, feigning nonchalance I don’t really feel.

  “Any idea when you’ll know?”

  “They said they’d call.”

  “Well, at least they didn’t say thanks but no thanks.” I think he’s trying to give me confidence about the whole thing, but there’s only one thing on my mind.

  “It was interesting actually. I had to read off the teleprompter and then they cut to tape and there you were. Being interviewed by one of the reporters on screen.”

  He leans back into the booth and laughs a little. “Really? What the hell was I talking about?”