“Bye, Carl,” Laney sang out after the retreating man. “Who keeps inviting that guy anyway? Never liked him.”
Keiran snorted. “Holy shit, Laney’s awesome.”
Cherisse chuckled. “She is one of a kind. Also, super-rich, so no one dares cross her. They’re always glad to get invited. I guarantee you Carl’ll be back next year. My mom’s gonna be pissed she missed this.”
“How’d they even meet? They seem so different.”
It was true. Laney and her mother were complete opposites, personality-wise. Laney with her don’t-care attitude—which Cherisse suspected she’d had to adopt to deal with those who side-eyed her out-and-loud queerness—and her mother, who was so wrapped up in appearances. Cherisse had gotten a lot of that from her mother—it had been driven into her head enough times to take root—but her mom took it to the extreme sometimes. Her mother, Laney, and Remi’s mom had somehow gravitated towards each other in school and had remained friends ever since. There was an epic tale of Laney verbally destroying another girl who decided to bully Cherisse and Remi’s moms, and thus, the friendship was born. At this point, Cherisse wasn’t sure what was fact and what had gotten embellished over the years, but it sounded like something Laney would do.
Keiran’s eyes widened at her retelling of the tale, and his gaze swung back to Laney, who was now cradling a giant hamper. “Wow, she’s great.”
“Yup,” Cherisse agreed.
Laney ushered them over, eyes gleaming as she presented the winning hamper. Cherisse suspected Laney was already tipsy. She’d been guzzling mimosas like juice. But if you couldn’t get drunk at your own brunch, what was the point?
“Whoa, this is...” Keiran gaped at the hamper. The thing was enormous and, as Cherisse tried to peer through the clear wrapping, seemed to be bursting with goodies, gift vouchers, and what looked like an expensive bottle of wine.
“Congrats!” Laney corralled them in for a winner’s photo. “I’d hoped you two would win. None of these other heifers deserve it.” She cackled, and Mira shook her head, releasing a small laugh as Laney planted a loud smack on her cheek. “I’d have gone for the lips, but I don’t want to scandalize the heteros.” Laney’s smile grew mischievous. “On second thought...” She shoved the hamper into Keiran’s hands and dipped Mira into a scorching kiss, leaving her wife flustered, cheeks pink as they came up for air. “If anyone’s got a problem with me kissing my wife in my own damn house, they can get the fuck out.”
Not a single soul made any movements. It truly was some sort of miracle that Laney and her mother became friends in the first place and managed to remain so.
“Excellent!” Laney clapped her hands. “Now, if you’ll excuse us.” She linked her hand with Mira’s. “That kiss was hotter than anticipated, so now Mira and I need to take care of some business.” She waggled her brows.
“Laney, oh my God, you can’t just say things like that,” Mira protested, face getting redder. Laney dipped her head to whisper into her ear. Cherisse had no idea what she’d said, but judging from the way Mira blinked at Laney before dragging her in the direction of the house, it was safe to assume it was something naughty.
“Well,” Keiran said, hefting the hamper. “This has been the best first brunch ever.”
Cherisse agreed. By the time they decided to leave, half the guests were well into their day drinking. Laney made them both promise to return next year. Cherisse wasn’t sure how that would work out. Keiran was only here because of their ‘you show me yours, I’ll show you mine’ deal, but he seemed enthusiastic about the idea.
She’d actually had fun. With Keiran. Sometimes at his expense, but who would’ve thought that possible? He’d shown up on time this morning. Had taken all her instructions without complaining. He’d rolled with the eccentricities of Laney and her bunch, hadn’t even batted an eyelash when Laney launched into a drunken rendition of Notorious BIG’s “Hypnotize” while Mira tried to talk her wife down from climbing onto one of the tables to reenact Julia Stiles’ moves from 10 Things I Hate About You.
“I don’t think I’ve laughed this much in a good while,” Keiran admitted as he drove away from the house. “That was wild.”
“You’ve been Laney’d,” Cherisse said. “It’s always an experience.” She looked through the hamper as Keiran headed back towards the highway. Drowsiness was kicking in. She’d had a few mimosas as well. Laney had topped off her drink several times, going light on the orange juice. She focused on the hamper, curbing a yawn that threatened to escape. “Oh, they’re spa vouchers. I’d like to have those if you don’t mind. My birthday’s coming up. These chocolates are expensive too. We can share up the goodies. Holy fuck!” She clasped one of the gift certificates. “This is dinner for two at Prime. That place is fancy as fuck. I couldn’t even afford to stand outside there. Wow, Laney’s the best.”
Keiran laughed. “I’m sure you and Tyler will have fun.”
She peered at him. She hadn’t mentioned her first date with Tyler at all, simply because she’d been bored out of her mind. Tyler was chatty and name-dropped a lot as if stuff like that should impress her. It didn’t, so she certainly wasn’t wasting her Prime dinner on him. She wasn’t certain yet if she’d give him another chance in a different setting.
Keiran glanced over at her briefly before returning his gaze to the road. “How’d that date go, by the way?”
“Fine.”
“Just fine?”
She sighed. “Fine, it was terrible, happy now?”
“Not at all.” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, lips pursed like he wanted to ask something but was unsure of her reaction. Keiran never seemed to care whether his questions were well received or not. Was he actually taking their truce seriously? “Why did you agree to the date? Was it because you found him attractive?”
Unsure where he was going with this, Cherisse considered brushing him off with a sarcastic reply. It was so ingrained in her to be like that with him, toss some snark that would satisfy her desire to be petty, but not today. It could be the mimosas running the show because she gave him an honest reply.
“When you’re a woman of a certain age, your family feels it’s their duty to point out your singleness and help you out. It’s just easier to seemingly go along with my mom’s not-so-subtle suggestions of eligible men. And if these guys want to get me free meals, who am I to argue? I’m not about to do a tug of war with the bill because it offends their sensibilities for a woman to pay. I’m just gonna eat my food and decide whether I want a repeat or not.”
“Is that what Tyler did?”
“Hell no, I didn’t even offer. That place is way out of my budget.”
Keiran laughed, and Cherisse couldn’t help responding with a smile of her own.
“So, you gonna see him again?”
Cherisse shifted the hamper on her lap, digging further into its depths. “I don’t know.” They hadn’t exactly clicked, but after a year off the dating scene, was she being overly critical? Tyler hadn’t truly said or done anything offensive. Yes, the name-dropping had almost made her roll her eyes, but was she giving him a fair chance? She was by no means obligated to. Perhaps he’d been nervous, and therefore rambling on about nonsense. Dating required too much damn thinking.
They drove in silence until Keiran’s phone beeped, and he checked it at the next light, his jaw clenching.
“Everything okay?”
“Fine. Just studio stuff.”
His tone said otherwise, but Cherisse didn’t push. There were surely limits to their brief ceasefire. Neither of them was inclined to share things they didn’t want to. They weren’t friends. He’d done as she’d asked, and now she had to reciprocate in the studio.
When they got to her apartment, he helped with the hamper, holding it until she got her keys out and opened the door.
“We can share these up now if you want,” she offered.
“Maybe later. Just send me a list of everything in there, and we can figure it out. I’m se
rious about the Prime dinner, though. Yours to use as you please. The spa vouchers, too. The rest, we’ll sort. I trust you to list everything.” He winked, his mood after seeing that message having shifted back to his usual self, and a loud laugh escaped her mouth, which had Keiran snickering too as he placed the hamper on the floor of her living room.
“That laugh, I swear. I love it.”
She stared after him as he waved goodbye, closing the door behind him. People didn’t usually say they loved her laugh. In fact, she’d grown up extremely self-conscious about it because her mother had drilled into her that it was too loud and scandalous, unbecoming of a young lady. That ladies must be seen, not heard. Over the years, Cherisse had started giving no fucks where that was concerned. She’d given up on trying to do some subdued version of it. Her genuine laugh was loud, boisterous even. But it was part of who she was.
“Was that you and Keiran laughing just now?” Remi asked as she came down the stairs. “Had to see if the apocalypse had begun because what the hell?”
Cherisse shrugged. “We had fun.”
Remi gawked at her, face twisted in disbelief, then she noticed the hamper. “Oooh, what’d we win?”
“We?”
“Like you’re not gonna share with me.” She crouched down to inspect the goodies.
“Some of that belongs to Keiran.”
“Uh-huh.” Remi kept searching through, releasing a gasp as she held up the Prime gift certificate. “Oh, wow.” She glanced up at Cherisse. “You wouldn’t go with Keiran, would you? When your bestie’s right here?”
“He did help me out today.” She had zero intention of going to Prime with Keiran, but she loved teasing Remi too much. “Plus, we got spa passes, which I figure we’ll use for our birthdays.”
Remi got to her feet, eyes narrowed. “You’re already doing that studio thing for him. He can’t have Prime.”
Remi was the only one she’d told about the challenge she’d thrown out to Keiran and his wanting to use her voice on a track. Her response had been surprise—then she’d begged to tag along to the session. Cherisse shut that down immediately. She didn’t need extra witnesses to her screwing it up because she would. She had no doubt about that. Solos in front of other people? Not her jam. And even worse, it being Keiran. The one person who would gladly use her failure against her.
“Besides, Prime is a date spot,” Remi added. “Going with Keiran would be kind of weird. But a bestie date would be fair and appropriate.”
It would be weird. How would something like that even go? They’d had fun today. A fluke. Possibly never to be repeated. But an actual meal at a place like Prime? It was best not to tip the balance of their dynamic too much. Who knew what shift in the universe they might create?
Prime with Keiran wasn’t happening. “Maybe I should offer to take Tyler,” she mused.
“I think the hell not!” Remi protested. “I thought you weren’t going for a second date?”
“I might give him another chance. Just to be sure.”
“Well, do that some other place.”
Cherisse extracted the voucher from her bestie’s hand and grinned. “We’ll see.”
Chapter 11
APRIL
Cherisse
“WEAR THE FUCK-ME HEELS.”
Said heels slipped from Cherisse’s hand and fell to her bedroom floor as she shot Reba a glare. Grin still in place, Reba shrugged. “What? Those shoes are hot, and Tyler’s cute.”
She stared down at the shoes, a treat-yourself splurge that she had basically done with her eyes closed, not looking too closely at the price tag. Post-breakup shoes. They were these hot neon pink stilettos that made her feel super-sexy, and she’d only worn them once.
In between working with Keiran on the party, baking up a storm to replenish her goodies in the groceries and bakeries, and brainstorming the dessert station ideas for Ava’s wedding and the other wedding that came before her sister’s, she’d decided to give Tyler another chance. She really had nothing to lose, told herself she was doing this to keep her mother off her back and show that she was giving her dates a fair chance. Two dates was fair enough time to decide this wasn’t going to work, right?
“I have no intention of fucking Tyler.” She nudged the shoes with her foot. Tyler was good-looking, but there was zero chemistry on her end. She’d gotten more of a jolt when she’d touched Keiran’s face to remove that smudge of flour, which was an entirely weird thing to recall in this moment.
Reba twirled a pink lock of her hair around her finger. “They give the illusion of being DTF. You don’t actually have to, obviously.” She drummed her bright yellow nails against Cherisse’s bed. “He might end up showing a different side of himself. I mean, you and Keiran have been getting along lately, right? You had fun at the brunch. The world is full of strange and wonderful happenings.”
“Yeah, we have, and we did.”
The planning process with Keiran was an odd mix of small arguments but mostly them actually getting shit done without any major blow-ups. They’d split the tasks evenly and provided each other with updates. The party was scheduled for a few weeks before the wedding, so they were steadily getting things done. Cherisse breathed a sigh of relief with each item she crossed off her lists. They’d made it through the baking session, with Keiran actually admitting he’d been genuinely surprised at what the preparation entailed.
The one point of tension between them was the pending studio session. A date hadn’t been set, and Keiran wasn’t prodding her about it, but that would change soon. Surely, he had a deadline where that was concerned. But right now, the focus was the party planning.
“He even complimented my checklists.” That had been a surreal moment.
“Giiiirl, those checklists of yours are scary.” Reba pretended to clutch some imaginary pearls. “I’m okay with lists for work-related purposes, but your system gives me hives! Digital’s the way to go. Get with the times. That notebook makes my head hurt. I love you, but that damn thing is just...no.”
“Checklists are a godsend,” Cherisse said. They both busted out laughing. She’d said that many times over the course of their working relationship. She couldn’t help it. Checklists helped a lot. Hers were damn near indecipherable, though, basically scribbles with lots of bullet points, arrows all over the place, even some terrible drawings to illustrate a particular point. It gave most people a headache, sent them running screaming in the opposite direction, but she preferred paper to digital in this instance. There was something appealing about finally crossing off a finished task with her pen. “He said they made a weird kinda sense. He was actually able to read them.”
Reba gasped. “For real? Okay, just marry that dude already. You won’t find anyone else capable of that.”
Cherisse shook her head. Marry Keiran? The apocalypse would happen before that did. “I’ll pass on that, thanks. Anyways, back to the shoes.” She kicked at them again and thought, why the hell not? She had the perfect dress to go with them too.
“Oh, by the way.” Reba waved her phone around. “If you feel to meet up after, I’ll be chillin’ downstairs with Aleem. Him and his friends are having a sushi night at Hyatt. Nice coincidence, right? If you need a pep talk or just a weirdo in the background giving you an exuberant thumbs up, I’ll be there. These fancy events always have rabbit food that can barely sustain anyone, so feel free to crash sushi night.”
Reba wasn’t wrong about the food. Cherisse had attended events like this before, and sure enough, she’d always been starving after. The food was usually gorgeously plated, but the portions would never appease her appetite. “You’re hanging with Aleem? You know he’s totally in love with you.”
Reba didn’t seem too concerned about it. “He knew what was up with our arrangement and that relationships aren’t really my thing these days. The sex was good while it lasted, but then he starting getting all mushy and ruined everything. I told him being friends is fine, and he acted like I tried to murder his
dog or something. As if my offer of friendship was the worst thing ever. So, I’m basically there for the free sushi because I told his ass not to fall for me.” She shrugged. “He’s paying.”
“I can’t keep up with your drama.” Cherisse had heard about Reba’s escapades countless times. Casual sex sounded like a nightmare waiting to happen. For her, at least. Her emotions always got in the way. Reason enough for her taking time for herself after Sean. She hadn’t wanted to dive into anything too soon.
Although she’d missed being intimate with someone. And while she got herself off just fine, thank you very much, she did crave being close to a warm body again.
“I’m prepped to also be your wingwoman if needed.” Reba gave an enthusiastic thumbs up.
“Just don’t make it weird.”
“When do I ever make anything weird?”
Cherisse gave Reba a pointed look, and she rolled her eyes. “What do I do with my hair?”
Reba didn’t look up from her phone. “Wear it up. Show a lil’ neck. People are always about legs and cleavage, but the neck is for real a sexy part of the body.” She placed her phone on the bed and came over to scan Cherisse’s open closet. “What you wearing?”
Cherisse pulled out the one she was considering, and Reba clapped her hands, mouth stretching in a happy grin. “Yes, good. I approve. Looks easy to remove, in case you change your mind about Tyler.”
“Reba, seriously.” But she found herself wondering if Tyler had a distracting set of abs like Keiran. Then she chided herself for even going there, shut that down before her brain conjured up Keiran in that towel, again. No good would come of those wayward thoughts.
Focus on the date. Maybe Tyler would surprise her.
CHERISSE’S MOUTH DROPPED open as they strolled up the stairs. The Building An Appetite Project displays were outside the Regency Ballroom and were so much more than she’d expected. It turned out to be an ambitious undertaking between culinary, art, and architecture students, an experiment to mesh all three subjects and display the results. It was also an event sponsored by the architectural design firm where Devon King worked.
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