I groaned a little. “I don’t want to go anywhere.”
“Too bad,” he said without pity.
There was no point in arguing. And not just because I felt like I had temporarily lost touch with the majority of my grasp on vocabulary. I also knew Greg well enough to know he wasn’t going to just accept me saying no and move on. If he had a plan, that was what was going to happen. Even if he had to toss me over his shoulder and bring me along with him.
Since I was really not feeling being brought out in public in the particular ensemble I had going for me right at that moment, it would be in my best interest to agree.
He brought me my breakfast, and I sat at the table shoveling in the savory scrambled eggs.
“These are really good,” I said. “Are they different?”
“Bacon fat,” Greg said.
My eyes slid over to him. “What?”
“Bacon fat,” he repeated. “I put bacon fat in the pan rather than butter or cooking oil. It will help with the hangover. So will the French toast. And if all else fails, I made extra coffee.”
I had already finished my first two cups, so I scooted the empty mug over to him, and Greg laughed. He went to fill it and came back with a piece of French toast for himself in his hand.
“So, where are we going?” I asked.
“We have a few errands to run. Things to help you get settled in here and make it your home,” he said.
I was curious, and that helped me push through the lingering discomfort to finish eating, get dressed, and plaster on a bit of makeup so I could at least look halfway awake and functional. Greg grabbed his keys, and we got in his truck.
I tried to pay attention to where we were driving, seeing if I could recognize anything from my tour of Charlotte the other day. Nothing looked familiar, and after a short drive, we ended up in the parking lot of a furniture store.
“I like your living room furniture,” I told him. “Why are you replacing it?”
“I’m not going to,” Greg said, taking the keys out of the ignition and releasing his seat belts. “We are here for you.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“You can’t keep sleeping on the couch,” he said. “As well as you fit all curled up on it, eventually it’s going to catch up with you. So, we are here for a bed.”
“I can’t afford a bed right now,” I said. “Give me a few weeks to work, and then we’ll talk. Until then, the couch is fine.”
“This place has a really good payment plan policy, and I’m going to put the down payment down for you,” he said.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m not going to let you do that.”
“Why not?” he asked. “I got a really nice check and a couple of bonuses for coming in second at the race. I want to do this for you. Besides, I should be an adult now and actually have a bed in my second bedroom.”
We were back in that place where there was no point in me trying to talk him out of something. We would either sit out here in the parking lot and bicker until he gave up and went inside to pick it out for me, or I was going to go in and decide on my bed.
I was immensely grateful to Greg as soon as I picked out the bed and he put the down payment on it. But even more so that night when I put fresh sheets we had bought at our next stop on the new mattress and crawled in. Just for fun, I stretched my arms and legs out to their furthest extent, then flopped over onto my stomach and did it the other way.
The next morning, we were back into the rhythm of me making breakfast. I wouldn’t go as far as to say I was completely feeling better, but it was enough for me to ignore for the most part. Greg came in with a smile and dropped a kiss to the top of my head. He had been doing that for as long as I could remember. That gesture went through phases for me. Sometimes it felt brotherly. Other times it spoke to the importance of our close friendship. And sometimes it felt like something else.
I didn’t let myself think about those times.
“How did you sleep?” he asked.
“Like a rock,” I said. “Maybe even better than a rock, because I had a pillow.”
“You know, rock sleep disparity is truly the great social injustice of our time. More awareness needs to be brought to it,” Greg said as he poured his coffee.
“I’m considering an organization,” I said.
That morning I felt in the mood for oatmeal, and I had a row of bowls filled with various mix-ins down the center of the dining table. Setting the massive pot of fresh oatmeal on a trivet in the middle of the table, I added two bowls and spoons at our settings. Greg brought in orange juice and glasses, and we sat down for breakfast.
“What are you going to bring to the barbecue tonight?” he asked while dumping half the bowl of raisins into his oatmeal.
I paused with my spoon still in the brown sugar. “What barbecue tonight?”
“The weekly Freeman Sunday get-together,” he said as if I should automatically know what the hell he was talking about and why I had anything to do with it.
“I ask again, what barbecue tonight?”
“I told you they get together every week for dinner either at Minnie and Gus’s house, or Quentin’s house. This week it’s at Quentin’s house,” Greg said.
“You didn’t tell me I would be going to it,” I said.
“Absolutely. Merry called this morning to make sure I was bringing you. She wants you to bring something,” he said.
“Really?”
“Yeah,” he said, nodding and giving me an incredulous look. “They really like you, Maya. They want you to be a part of the group.”
I didn’t know what to say and the emotion of it started to tighten in my throat and make me feel a little thrown off. Not wanting to show it, I shook off the feeling and detoured the conversation.
“What should I bring?” I asked.
Greg glanced back toward the kitchen. “I vote some of these baked goods. Let’s share the wealth.”
I laughed and agreed. At least the overpopulation of the kitchen caused by my temporary breakdown had a silver lining.
I was feeling mostly human by the time we got to Quentin’s house that evening. I was stunned when we drove up into the driveway and I saw the sprawling mansion.
“Wow,” I said. “This place is amazing.”
“Yeah,” Greg said. “You would never know they were all multimillionaires, would you?” He paused like he was contemplating that thought. “I think Quentin and Vince might actually be billionaires. Nick is getting close. Darren is much younger than them, so he still has time, but even he’s way up there.”
I sat in the car and stared, openmouthed. “Seriously?” Greg nodded, and I shook my head. “They don’t seem like it.”
“Nope. Part of why I like them as much as I do.”
We got out of the truck, and Greg helped me carry the two boxes of cookies, cupcakes, and bread along with my favorite pasta salad and the cream cheese, olives, and green pepper pinwheels I brought to every party. I felt almost embarrassed by them now. It just didn’t feel right carrying a platter of flour tortillas spread with cream cheese, ranch dressing mix, cheese, and chopped-up vegetables into a house that looked like this.
But I shouldn’t have worried about it. There wasn’t a single judgmental look, and Darren’s best friend, Colby, ended up eating at least half of the platter while we waited for dinner. I was immediately swamped by people wanting to see what goodies I brought and giving me hugs.
A couple of the guys gave me offers to dismember Marshall, and I told them I would tuck that away in my back pocket for if the mood struck me. Being there warmed me up inside, and by the time we were sitting around eating grilled steaks on the back porch, I didn’t feel so angry anymore.
I was starting to think Marshall had done me a favor.
12
Greg
“That was really fun,” Maya said as we drove back to my apartment after dinner at Quentin’s house.
“Yeah, Quentin and Merry know h
ow to do a gathering. He was always pretty good at entertaining, but since he aligned himself with Merry, it’s been a whole new level. She fancies herself a social media expert, but what she really should be is a party planner. Maybe a wedding coordinator,” I said.
“I bet their wedding was gorgeous,” she said with a hint of a sigh in her voice.
I laughed. “Actually, she was eight months pregnant, wearing jean shorts and a white sleeveless top, and they did it right out in the middle of the field on the compound. Honestly, that was perfect for them at that point. She just wanted to be married before the baby was here, and that field was really important in their relationship. It’s still one of their favorite places.”
“You know,” Maya said, nodding, “I could totally see that. And yet, I bet she pulled it off.”
“She did, actually. She managed to make cutoff jean shorts and a white tank top bridal,” I said.
Maya laughed. “Thank you for bringing me out there. I was really nervous about going, but it was nice. I really like all of them. You know how weird that is? To actually be around that many people and not have a single one of them that you want to avoid talking to?”
“They have that effect,” I said. “But don’t let them fool you. They aren’t always nice when anyone offends or hurts the people they love.”
“So, I guess you fit in with them in that way, too,” she said.
I felt warmth in the middle of my chest when she said that. It was exactly what I was hoping she would think of me. I wanted her to know I would always protect her, always take care of her. No matter how long we were apart, or what went into that separation, I didn’t want her to ever question that she was safe with me.
“Speaking of being nervous, though, how are you feeling about work starting up tomorrow?” I asked, trying to gloss over the tense emotion that suddenly started building up between us. “Lindsey was talking about it while we were getting food. She’s looking forward to having you around. She feels bad it’s nothing fancier.”
“Definitely shouldn’t feel bad,” Maya said. “She’s a complete lifesaver. After all this time, I still haven’t heard from either one of those little shops that I applied to. If Lindsey hadn’t given me this job, I wouldn’t have anything, and I would have no idea what I was going to do next.”
“And I can assure you Lindsey is a great person. I know you’ve only interacted with her a couple of times, but she’s awesome. She’s funny and caring. She’ll take really good care of you,” I said.
“I know she will,” Maya said. “And I’m determined to prove myself to her and move up as much as I possibly can whenever she has another position for me. I’m really looking forward to spending more time with her. I really like her so far, and it’s also nice to have another connection to the same group.”
I nodded. “As a matter of fact, after races, we usually end up at the bar celebrating. It’s home base when we aren’t at the compound.”
“So, what you’re actually telling me is that you’re going to have plenty of opportunity to come to the bar and make fun of me while I’m working in the kitchen,” Maya said.
“Maybe,” I replied. “Is she going to make you wear a hairnet while you’re working on the line?”
“I would think so,” she said.
“Then, yes, definitely. I’ll be there,” I said.
Maya laughed and shook her head. “Perfect.”
The next morning, I was feeling guilty for not being able to be there with Maya when she left for her first day of work.
Unfortunately, her hours at the bar took up the afternoon and into the night, overlapping with my hours at the compound by several. That meant she would be getting ready and heading out when I was already at work, then getting home well after me. I wanted to make sure she still felt like I was thinking about her and sending her all the best, so while she was showering Monday morning, I packed her lunch.
I made her favorite sandwich from when we were kids and stuffed in a few of the special treats and snacks I’d bought when she didn’t notice. It was far from the healthiest options and definitely didn’t look like an adult’s lunch, but hopefully she would get the sentiment and it would make her feel good.
I added a note telling her I hoped she had a good day and that I was proud of her, tucked it into the refrigerator along with the lunch, then went back to my normal morning. It was possibly a bit more domestic than was strictly necessary or appropriate between roommates, but there was no way I could talk myself out of it. I kept finding myself drawn to the box of candy-speckled brownies.
At least I wouldn’t be there when she found it.
We ate breakfast, and I gave her a hug before heading out to the compound. Like usual, I was there first, and I spent some time going over the stats from the last race so I could set my sights on improving my performance. Darren arrived a little later, and we went to work making modifications and improvements to our bikes.
I was working on building and customizing a second racing bike to try out later in the season. There were some modifications and features I wanted to try, but I didn’t want to completely change the bike I had been using. I could compare the performance of both machines and determine which was best for each individual race.
In the middle of the afternoon, I heard my phone alert me to a new text message. I wiped my hands off on a cloth as I crossed the garage to where I had my phone sitting on the work counter.
The message was from Maya. A sandwich emoji followed by a big smile and a hug told me she found her lunch. After that, a stream of disconnected, unrelated emojis told me she had only recently discovered the full extent of her emoji options and wanted to try them out. The last one was a small pile of smiling poop, followed by a long string of question marks.
I laughed and immediately felt a hard poke in the middle of my back. I turned around to find Gus standing behind me, eyeing me suspiciously.
“Interesting message?” he asked.
“No,” I said.
“Mmmm-hmmmm,” the older man replied, turning back to his work on the custom bike he was building.
“What’s going on?” Kelly asked as she and Darren came back into the garage from going on a snack break.
“Nothing,” I said.
Kelly paused, and her eyes slid over to Gus, who just shook his head at her. I set my phone down and pushed the interaction out of my mind so I could focus on the work in front of me.
That evening, I had forgotten that Maya wasn’t going to be at the apartments when I got home from work. I walked in expecting to find her lounging in the living room or baking to the ’80s. Instead, I opened the door and stepped into silence.
It was weird for the apartment to be empty. After living alone for five years here in Charlotte, it would seem that I would be used to my apartment being quiet when I got home. Instead, it felt almost eerie. I had gotten used to her presence and very much noticed her not being there.
I went into my bedroom to drop my stuff and change out of my work clothes. The door to her bedroom was standing partially open, and I peeked in. She had set up her new bed and made it with the bedding set we’d bought after leaving the furniture store. The couch was now shoved up against the wall on the other side of the room, and she had added throw pillows that were originally intended for the bed.
It was good to see the room looking like her more and more. It was no longer just a spare bedroom or somewhere she was crashing. It was really Maya’s now, and I looked forward to seeing all the other ways she would personalize it as she settled in more.
Seeing the room and breathing in the smell of her there made me miss her. Not that I was about to admit that to anyone. And especially not to her. I considered going to the bar to see her and check in on how she was doing but I stopped myself before I headed out of the apartment. I didn’t want to bother her on her first day or make her feel like I didn’t believe in her. Or, even worse, like she was in a fishbowl and I was going to be monitoring her every movement.
/>
She was already nervous enough and wanted to prove herself. Having me there as a chaperone wouldn’t do her any good. I wanted her to feel comfortable and at home in Charlotte, and that included at work. I would hear all about it when she got home.
Putting aside the idea of going out, I opened the refrigerator to find something to eat. As soon as I looked inside, I laughed. Whether it was sarcastic payback or a nice gesture to mark the first day of us figuring out our staggered schedules, the salad decked out in a pink Post-it note with a large heart would be my dinner.
I took it out, grabbed a bottle of water to go along with it, and headed into the living room. As long as I was alone in the apartment for the evening, I might as well catch up on my guilty pleasure. Maya didn’t yet know about my investment in The Voice, so I was behind by a couple of episodes.
I sat down on the couch and settled in for a binge. I took a couple bites of the field greens, grilled chicken, and vinaigrette and turned on the TV.
13
Maya
I didn’t really know what to expect when I went into the bar. Lindsey called me before I showed up and told me to go in through the back. It was a strange experience. It felt both like I was being shuffled around so I would stay out of sight, and like I was being given some sort of special access.
I decided to focus on the special feeling. After all, what I’d told Greg was true. I was extremely lucky Lindsey even gave me this position. I wasn’t going to care what it was. It would be ridiculous to think that working in the kitchen of a bar was beneath me. It was real, honest work, and something that needed to be done.
The skillset wasn’t necessarily the same as what I’d used in my previous job, but that didn’t matter. I was a quick learner and would happily put as much effort and attention into anything Lindsey asked me to do as I possibly could. Not just because I wanted to climb the ladder and get to a higher position at some point. But also, just because it was the right thing to do.
The Freeman Brothers: A Secret Baby Romance Collection Page 91