by Mercer Scott
“Fine, you win this time. Or actually, I guess you lose. Because that guy was hot and he looked like he had some energy to burn. And he was definitely interested, so you’re the one missing out.” Lara’s still staring through the tinted glass back towards the hospital.
“If you think he’s so hot, then why don’t you go give him your number already!” When can we stop talking about the guy in the hospital? We don’t know him, and we’re not going to get to know him.
“I hope that’s jealousy in your voice because that would mean that your vagina isn’t dead. And I’m sure I would enjoy it. Very much. But you know me – I’m a one-woman man. But the day Deacon Park stops satisfying my needs, I will definitely be looking that guy up.” Then she gives me the smug smile of a woman who is extremely confident that her fiancé isn’t going to stop satisfying her needs any time soon. And trust me, I’ve been living with them for a week. It’s a really big house, and I still hear more of Deacon satisfying Lara’s needs than I’d like.
Thankfully, we’re safely out of the parking lot now so the odds of Lara jumping out of the SUV to run back and give the guy her number – or worse my number – are getting lower and lower.
“And here I thought you’d never change.”
Lara laughs back at me. “Maybe just a little. But don’t tell Deacon I said that.” She turns from me to glare at the two men in the front seats. “And you two better not tell him either. Or I’ll never live it down. And I don’t even think I’ve changed. Not really. A woman should never change for a man. They should change for you. Or just find yourself a new man!”
“Mmmm-hmmm. You keep telling yourself that!” Shaking my head at her, I’m laughing right along with her. In the rearview mirror, I can see the stoic, short one fighting off a smile.
“Do I need to order more cupcakes? That box you handed over looked a bit beat up. What exactly happened before I showed up?”
“They were only slightly smushed. They survived the fall kind of miraculously. You should definitely order from that bakery again. That guy just ran into me out of nowhere. Just like a man. He walked out into the hallway without looking where he was going and ran straight into me. And then he blamed me for it! I guess he did break my fall, but he landed on his injured hip. He looked like he was in pain, so I examined him as best as I could right there in the hallway. He had hip surgery six months ago, so of course, it hurt when he took the brunt of the fall and both of our weight right on it. Idiot.” He is an idiot. For risking his hip just to save my butt. I would have landed on my butt and been fine.
“But you said he was okay, right?” Lara studies me, and I don’t know what she’s thinking. But I already know that I don’t like it.
“Yes, I think so. Just some bruising probably. And he’ll be stiff for a couple of days… don’t say it.” Glancing up to see the smile dancing across Lara’s face. I can’t help smiling, too. “You’re such a child!”
“Stiff for days?” Lara says, shrugging. “I definitely should have given him your number. That is exactly the kind of energy you need in your life right now… you know what kind of energy I mean?”
“Stop. Please, I beg you to stop.” I throw my hands up between us, I try to stop her from talking.
“Big. Dick. Energy.”
“Stop! Take pity on me, please!”
“Some dick. That’s exactly what you need,” Lara continues taunting me.
“Seriously, please stop saying ‘dick’!” I demand. “It just reminds me of him… Dr. Dick.”
Lara looks shocked. “I refuse to let that piece of shit ruin the word dick for us. You need to reclaim it. By getting some dick.”
“I’m literally going to kill you if you don’t stop talking this very minute,” I tell her sourly. “The tall one is going to help me dispose of the body.”
Lara feigns shock. “He would never! Deacon pays them both far too well to let you murder me. And even without them, the day you could take me is the day I give up all my slutty girl ranger dishonor badges. It’s never going to happen.” Dishonor badges are this stupid joke between our friends. Whenever we do anything over the top, Lara awards us imaginary badges. My imaginary sash is pitifully empty. I spent the last two years like a nun hoping that Dr. Dick would realize that he loved me like I loved him. And then I spent the last six months getting to love him.
“Maybe I could. I’m small, but I’m feisty. And I could definitely kick your butt in a dance battle,” I remind her stubbornly.
“You’re adorable when you try to be intimidating. But that’s a great idea. We should go dancing tonight. I can’t take one more night of you eating ice cream in sweat pants on my sofa. I’ll text V.” Lara pulls out her phone and is already typing a message to Veronica before she even finishes talking.
But she doesn’t just send a simple message to Veronica… because of course she doesn’t.
Lara: *Breaking news* Nat just met a hot veteran!!!
Bridget: Ooh, perfect! A hot military man on Maui? I need to come visit. But work is just too busy…
Veronica: People make choices! When is work not going to be busy? You just need to walk out the door. And I want to hear about Nat’s hot military man. Tell me everything!
Lara: He’s tall, dark, and gorgeous! With the craziest violet eyes. And he definitely wants to break off a piece of our little Nit-Nat Bar!
Bridget: Of course, he’s into Nat! He’d be an idiot not to be
Natalia: There is NOTHING to tell. There is no hot military man. Well, he is hot. And he is a military man. Or was? But he’s not Nat’s. Not mine. And he definitely doesn’t want a piece of anything!
Cassie: Boring! So go do something about it and report back with details!
Natalia: I will do no such thing! I’ve told all of you more than once that I’m done with men
Bridget: The best way to get over someone is to get under someone new. Go forth and have some fun!
Lara: Ever going to take your own advice?
Bridget: We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about Nat!
Veronica: Agreed. Bridget needs to have some fun already
Natalia: No. No. No. All the sex in the world can’t fix a broken heart
Natalia: And Bridget should have fun. She can have all of mine. Because I’m done with fun. And I’m done with men
Cassie: In fairness, you won’t know until you’ve tried having all the sex in the world…
Lara: And V – we’re dancing tonight to celebrate our little Nit-Nat Bar getting her GROOVE back
“I can’t believe you just did that.”
“Can’t you?”
“Okay, of course I can believe it. But how could you? I’ve only been here a week. I’m not ready for… anything. Probably never again.”
“Haven’t you been listening? The best way to get over Dr. Dick is to get some dick.”
“Dick is the last thing I’m interested in.”
“You never know what you might find when we go dancing tonight…”
“If I agree to go dancing, I will not utter a single word to any man. Do you hear me?”
“Loud and clear. But you love to go dancing. Don’t let that dick ruin anything else for you.”
Maybe a night of drunken dancing with my best friends is exactly what I need. I’ve done angry. I’ve done sad. I’ve done ice cream. If those aren’t the first three stages of grief, I don’t know what are. Drunk and dancing sound like pretty good fourth and fifth stages to me.
My head feels like a bunch of marbles rolling around in a glass jar. Every time I try to lift my head off the pile of pillows in Lara’s guest room, it feels like that glass jar of marbles starts shaking. So, I lay my head back down. Since I don’t have anywhere to be, I can just stay in this bed forever.
“Nat? Nat, are you up?” Lara’s voice calls out – just about shattering the glass jar of marbles that is my head at the moment – before she walks into the guest room without knocking, with her rescue dog, Stinky, trotting in aft
er her.
“No, I am very much not up.” Opening one eye, I stare at her from under the covers. “And how are you even standing right now? You drank more than me, you’re way smaller than me, and you look way, way too chipper for…” I reach for my phone to see what time it is. “Eleven o’clock in the morning? How is it eleven o’clock? I never sleep in this late.”
“You’re on vacation. You can sleep in as late as you want. Except for today because I need your help with something.”
Peeking at her suspiciously from under my covers, I ask hesitantly. “Help with what exactly?”
“Always so suspicious, Nit-Nat. Would I ever lead you astray?” Lara walks over to sit down on the edge of the bed and then picks up Stinky and sets him down on the bed, too. I glance around for Meowriah because she and Stinky are still working out the boundaries of their frenemy status. She’s surveying us from the safety of the closet, frowning at me in silent judgment for letting her nemesis up on the bed.
“Yes, yes, you would. And you have. Many, many times.”
“And were those times not some of the funnest nights of your life?”
“Maybe…” I narrow my eyes at her as Stinky walks over to sniff my face. I get it, I smell like a distillery and a smelly gym had a baby. “Okay, yes. That may or may not be one-hundred-percent true. But, in my current state I’m not up for anything too fun.”
“Never fear. This won’t be too fun. In fact, it probably won’t be fun at all. But it’s for a good cause, and I know that your giant, marshmallow heart can’t resist a good cause. I need you to go to a committee meeting at the Maui Veterans’ Hospital for me. Deacon is bankrolling a new building, and he wants me to be on the planning committee-”
“Then shouldn’t you be going to the committee meeting?”
“Yes, of course, I should be going.” Lara lets out a long-suffering sigh. “And actually, so should Veronica. Ty’s construction company is building it, so she’s supposed to be on the committee, too. But what can I say? We’re very busy woman, and we have an event at the same time. This is the first meeting – because they finally filled all the spots – and they just sprung it on us. I guess the enthusiasm is good to see, but now we can’t go. Deacon’s going to kill me if someone isn’t there. And Ty’s probably going to kill Veronica. It could be good for you, too. You can tell the Board all the volunteer work that you’ve been doing during your time off, so they give you your job back.”
“I don’t think volunteering to go to a meeting is going to get me my job back. If only it were that easy…”
“Well, it can’t hurt. Can it? Will you go for us? Pretty please, Nit-Nat Bar? You are staying in a mansion on the beach in paradise for free…”
Holding up my hand to ward off the guilt trip, I sit up very slowly. “Okay, okay. I’ll go. This sounds like a great cause. What time is the meeting?”
“It’s at twelve-thirty. So, time to get out of bed, sleeping beauty!”
“Why did we deliver cupcakes there yesterday if there was a committee meeting today?”
“Because we’re sucking up, so people like us. And like I just said, there wasn’t a committee meeting scheduled until nine o’clock this morning.”
“You’ve known since nine? Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“I figured that you needed your sleep! You’re welcome, friend. Now get your ass out of bed and take a shower because you smell like a spilled margarita that no one wiped up.” Lara jumps up off the bed and dodges the pillow I throw at her head.
“Your mother is a monster, Stinks.” He tilts his head up at me, and I could swear that he’s disagreeing with me.
“Use your words, Stinky. Use your words.” Lara calls out from the doorway.
The scruffily adorable little mutt of who-knows-what breed does as he’s told and barks right in my face. And I swear I hear Meowriah hiss back at him from her hiding spot in the closet. The sharp sound of his bark shakes up every single one of the marbles in my head, and I dive back under the covers. Lara’s laugh reaches me, even under the bazillion thread-count duvet.
“Weren’t you just asking for my help?” I call out from under the covers.
“Yes. Please and thank you, friend! Come on Stinks, let’s go make Nat some coffee. Maybe with a bit of sugar and caffeine she’ll go back to letting me be the salty one in this friendship.” From under the covers, I hear four paws hit the ground and then Stinky’s identification tags clicking all the way to the door.
Thankfully, Lara shuts the door after her and gives me some privacy. There are always people skulking around in this house. And I don’t mean Deacon and Lara. I mean their staff. The fact that Lara – the most frugal person I’ve ever met – has staff continues to blow my mind. But here we are.
After giving myself as long as I think I can possibly have without being late for this committee meeting hiding under the covers, I slowly emerge from my luxurious prison. If I have to be suspended from work and broken-hearted by a complete asshole, then I guess this is the way to do it. My room looks out over the ocean and has a private balcony and everything. Lara’s slowly working away at redecorating the entire house, not that it needs it. Deacon’s letting her do whatever she wants, so this room is very Lara. Fun, edgy, and just a little bit too much. The palm frond accent wall might clash with the real, live palm trees waving just outside the balcony, but somehow with the white duvet, fuchsia accent pillows, and white, wood bedroom set with gold hardware, it all works.
All I want is to spend all day in this cozy, king-size bed feeling sorry for myself, or maybe slowly make my way down to the beach and feel sorry for myself there. But I can’t, all thanks to Lara. Grrr. When I mentally growl at the thought of re-entering the real world, I realize I need to get myself together. This committee is for a great cause. And one of my best friends in the entire world, who is currently letting me crash in one of her guest rooms – in a giant, waterfront mansion on a Maui beach – is asking me to go for her. The least I can do is put a smile on my face and help some wounded veterans.
As the hot water hits me, a horrible thought occurs to me. What if I see the guy from yesterday again? Maybe if he sees me again, he’ll decide to go through with his plan to sue me? But the veterans’ hospital is a big place. The odds that I’ll ever see Cooper Hamilton again are slim to none. Exactly how I like them.
Chapter Five
Cooper
How I went from having nowhere to be other than physiotherapy for the last six months to having two meetings in one day baffles me, but here we are. First, I have another group therapy session. Then I have the first meeting of that stupid committee Major Farrow signed me up for. Like I don’t have anything better to do? Okay, I don’t, I really don’t. Because the only thing on my agenda – or at least my parents’ – is moving back to the Upper East Side and sitting in an office downtown on the fortieth floor pushing paper all day. I’d take just about anything else over that.
So, here I am. Bright and shiny, and ready to volunteer to help some guys who got the wrong end of whatever tour they were on. Well, maybe not exactly bright and shiny any more. Pretty sure, I’m no one’s idea of bright and shiny with half of my body ripped apart and sewn back up again.
“What is he doing here? You’ve got to be kidding me. Is the universe playing some kind of cruel practical joke on me? Is this funny? Am I funny to you, universe?” A familiar voice says behind me. A familiar voice that I remember sounding soft and worried as its owner ran her equally soft hands over my body.
Natalia.
When I turn around to face her, she’s slowly spinning in a circle and staring up at the old, tile ceiling above us. She has another bakery box in her hands, identical to the one she was carrying yesterday.
Letting out a deep breath, I glance back down from the ceiling she’s staring at to look at her pretty face. “Who are you talking to? And are they talking back?”
“I’m talking to the universe. Obviously. The universe that thinks my life is some kind of
cosmic joke.” She narrows her eyes at me. “I asked you a question. Why are you here?”
“Do you always have a dozen cupcakes with you? Because I’m into a woman who brings me sugar. The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach… or maybe it’s his-”
“Do not say it! I asked you a question. What are you doing here?”
“Just reporting for duty. I was voluntold to be on the planning committee for the new rehab facility.” Eyeing her up and down, I’m starting to think that this committee isn’t such a bad idea. She’s just as pretty as she was yesterday, and just as pissed to see me.
She’s glaring up at me with narrowed eyes like she doesn’t believe me.
“Look, I didn’t know you were going to be here. So, how could I have managed to arranged this, even if I wanted to? Which I didn’t.” That’s maybe not entirely true. If I’d known she was going to be here, I definitely would have wanted to be here, too.
Maybe I’ve thought about her a couple of times since yesterday. Maybe more than a couple of times. But when she felt me up, those are the only non-medical and non-rehab hands of a woman that have been on my body in more than six months. For the first time since I got hurt, this woman actually has me thinking about what it would be like to take her out to dinner. Maybe what it would be like to kiss her after. Maybe what it would be like to do more than kiss her.
She was pissed at me yesterday, just like she’s pissed at me now. She seems pissed at the world, and that’s something I know all about. I’ve had six months of fake smiles and platitudes when my whole life was falling apart. She didn’t run screaming away from me when she figured out about my hip. I was staring right at her face, and I saw when she felt my scars against her fingertips. She didn’t even flinch. So, maybe I get to know her a little bit and we both work out some of our anger? Having sex with this pretty brunette seems like a lot more fun that hitting my damn punching bag every night.