by Kayla, Mia
Mason pinched the bridge of his nose, and he was no longer looking at me. His eyes were clenched shut, and he was breathing loudly. I could almost hear him counting to ten to calm down.
I thought of Sonia, her soft locks, her no-bullshit personality, and her laugh that was contagious, uninhibited, uncensored, and all real. Not like the fake laughs that women used to look cute. When Sonia laughed, there was no way I couldn’t.
“I like spending time with her.” My tone was quiet, soft, honest. “And being at work with her isn’t enough, which is why I crashed her family dinner.” I stared into open space, hating that I had a reputation and never caring before. Because, now, I cared, and all my shitty antics in the past could cost me my chance. If I had a theme song, it would start out like this, To all the girls I’ve screwed before. And it would end with, I’m sorry.
“After I dropped her off at her apartment tonight, I wanted her to invite me in. Not for what you’re thinking, but just because I wanted to spend more time with her.” I was officially going crazy over this woman.
Mason stared at me, wide-eyed, his mouth open. “You really believe this, don’t you?”
My hand clenched against the mug, my patience running thin. Here I was, the brother who was never emotional and only asking for advice, and here was Mason, telling me not to feel what I was feeling—or, worst of all, telling me what to feel.
“It’s not going to work.” There was finality in his tone that had my blood heating.
I stood, my legs planted wide apart. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
“Ah, fuck. I just threw a challenge in your face. Wrong move.” He slapped his head again.
“Forget it,” I grumbled. “Sorry I came to you for advice. I’ve never been in this situation before, and I turned to you because you’re my brother. I should have known better, knowing you’ve never had faith in me.” I wanted to keep fighting. My voice itched to yell. But then I remembered my nieces were sleeping.
“I gave you advice, and you didn’t want to take it,” he snapped back. “I’ve been in a relationship for five years, and I know what it takes to be in one. Sorry, Brad, but you don’t have it.”
I’d had enough of this nonsense. “Relationship? You mean that shithole you’re stuck in? You hardly ever smile when you’re with her. Half the time, you’re frustrated. To be honest, I doubt you’re even happy.”
“You don’t know anything,” he shot back, his eyes livid.
“Then, lie to me and tell me you are,” I challenged him. “That you love her, and it’s not the fact that you’ve invested time into a relationship and that’s the only reason you’re with her.”
The silence stretched between us, and we warred without words, stiff and stuck in some sort of blinking contest.
He was the first to break contact.
His arms dropped to his sides, and he didn’t say a damn thing. And, yeah, he knew me, but I knew him, too. He built things from scratch, invested time and energy to make things work, and he’d forever be in an unhappy relationship with the worst kind of person simply because he didn’t want to give up. Mason was the type to see things through to the end even if it destroyed him.
I narrowed my eyes, going for the kill. “You know, if we went broke all of a sudden, she’d leave you. Or, if you were dying, the first person you’d call was Charles or me and not her. So, thanks for being the biggest asshole to the one who would save your ass in the end.”
I stormed out of the room and straight up the stairs, hating the fact that he was partly right. I knew nothing about relationships and how they worked, but I was determined to find out.
“Uncle Brad.”
Sarah startled me in her GAP T-shirt and sitting at the edge of the stairs.
“You have school tomorrow. Get to sleep.” I waved my hand, and she moved off the stairs so I could pass.
“I couldn’t sleep.” Her hair was piled up on top of her head, and it reminded me of Sonia’s don’t give two shits bun.
“If this is about your womanly issues or boys or school, we can chat about that in the morning.” I didn’t want to be an asshole, but my patience had been spent on Mason. I gritted my teeth, not wanting to say the wrong thing. Not to Sarah, who was innocent in this situation.
I walked right past her to my room, but stubborn Sarah followed.
“You’re going to be cranky as hell tomorrow, so why don’t you go to sleep?”
“I was sleeping until you guys started yelling at each other.”
I pushed open the door and stepped over my pile of laundry that I needed to send to dry cleaning. “Blame it on your other emotional uncle.” Now, I was really being mature. I stopped, picked up the pile, and threw it with force into my laundry basket right by my bed as though the laundry basket were the cause of my foul mood.
“All you have to do is tell her the truth,” she said like it was so simple.
“What?”
“Sonia. All you have to do is be honest with her.” Sarah stood by the door, leaning on the frame.
“Sarah …”
“Just listen to me, Uncle Brad. Please?” she begged.
My features softened, and I let out a long sigh and dropped my ass on the bed.
“Okay.” I scrubbed one hand down my face, feeling the weight of not knowing how this would turn out on my shoulders. Then, I let it out, to the only person who would listen.
“I know Sonia. She won’t think it’s genuine.” I was like the guy who’d cried wolf.
The bed dipped beside me, and Sarah dropped her head on my shoulder. “Then, you tell her that. That you’re new to this, but you like her.”
As I peered down at my twelve-year-old niece, still so innocent in the world, I wondered … Could it really be that easy?
“Uncle Brad, take a chance. I really, really, really like Sonia.”
I touched the tip of her nose. “I do, too, Sarah. I do, too.”
* * *
Sonia
I placed my elbows on my office desk, leaning into the phone and reading the text.
Sonia! I’m so glad we were able to finally meet. Let me know when you’re free so we can do dinner.
Who is this? I texted the unknown number.
Jean. :)
I blinked and stared at my phone. Jean. Jean. Jean. But there was only one Jean that I knew.
Then, tiny, invisible spiders prickled my skin. It couldn’t be. How the hell did she get my number?
The phone blinked red, right by my keyboard, indicating an incoming call for Brad, but I ignored it.
I bit my pinkie nail, and after staring at the phone for far too long, I texted back.
Dinner? I typed back, hoping it was another Jean, some long-lost classmate or acquaintance that I had forgotten about.
Yes! I can’t wait. Jeff and I are free this Friday. Will you and Brad be available then?
Holy shit.
I typed, I’ll check.
Then, I flew off my chair and straight into Brad’s office for the second time this week.
His head peeked up from the sea of red roses in front of him. Oddly, they weren’t in a vase.
“How does Jean know my number?”
His eyes flipped to mine and back to the dozen red roses simply lying on his desk.
“Who are those for?” I shook my head. “Never mind. I don’t want to know. But what I do want to know is how Jean got my number.” My hands rested on my hips, and my heels tapped against the marble floor. “Brad?”
He stood, stumbled, and approached without his usual confident swagger. Was he drunk this early in the afternoon?
“This … these are for you.” He stepped into me, toe-to-toe, and held out the roses wrapped in tissue paper and pulled together in a red bow. He teetered on his heels, his eyes meeting mine and then darting to something interesting behind me.
I followed his line of sight to the emptiness behind me and inhaled deeply, trying to see if I could smell liquor.
I blinked. “Me?
Why?” My voice croaked and choked on my words. I stared at his hand as though it were on fire.
“Uh …” he stammered, and Brad never stammered. “I’m not used to this type of thing. This sort of thing.”
I blinked again. I’d never seen him like this. It was like he had grade school dance nerves. Why?
Then, a lightbulb went off in my head. Oh! “I forgive you.” I smiled and reached for the beautiful bouquet.
He had apologized up and down and left and right for making me cry at work after my family dinner, and now, the flowers were an extension of the apology. I got that.
“No. That’s not what I meant.” He pulled at the flowers now in my hand.
“So, you’re not sorry?”
Now, we were playing tug-of-war with the roses.
“Of course I am.”
“Well then, let go!” I almost fell back from the force of tugging too hard. I blew out the hair from my face and steadied myself on my platform heels. What the hell is wrong with him? “Anyway, back to Jean.”
“Jean?” Brad stared at the flowers, breathing unsteadily. “Who the hell is Jean?”
“Jeff’s girlfriend.” I popped out my hip. Did this guy have short-term memory loss or something? “I guess I plugged my number in her phone and pinkie swore with her that we would have dinner?” I narrowed my eyes. “Can you confirm that this happened?”
He laughed, looking more like himself. “Well …”
“And, in my drunken stupor, did you ever once …” I shoved the flowers in his chest. “… think to stop me? Or think, Goodness, this can’t be a good idea.”
His smile widened—damn guilty culprit—and he grabbed the roses between us and tugged at them, bringing me closer. “Actually, I did try to stop you, and you waved me off.”
“Well, you should’ve tried harder.” Annoyance settled deep in my gut.
I’d trusted him that night, and he’d promised. I’d almost guaranteed him that I’d act like an idiot that night. Either that or feel sorry for myself. He was supposed to be the one to keep me in check.
He peered down at me with that look again, the look that made me feel queasy and light-headed. I felt like I was underwater, and my lungs constricted.
“Well …” I didn’t know if I was expecting a response. I just needed to break the silence between us, the weird locked look we had going on.
“I’ll try harder next time. I promise.” He leaned in closer, his breath a hot whisper against my face. “Sonia …”
The way he uttered my name was as though it were a new word he’d discovered. My heart began to beat louder in my chest, in my ears, at my temples.
“I need to tell you something …” He leaned in closer, pulling me in by my elbows, the roses now crushed between our chests. “I’m not used to this sort of thing, but I need you to know that …”
The world stood still.
I breathed in and forgot how to exhale. He erased the space between us. My eyes flickered to his mouth. One more millimeter and our lips would meet. Again. But, this time, I’d be sober. Then, suddenly, there was a knock at the door that had us both peering up, and Charles walked in.
* * *
Brad
Talk about the worst possible timing ever.
Sonia jumped back, almost falling in her heels. She then proceeded to step back farther, but it was too late. My brother wasn’t an idiot. He could sense the sexual tension between us. He’d seen us a moment before. And, forget Sonia’s flushed cheeks, my semi-boner also gave it away.
“Hey.” I waved a hand in an awkward greeting and ran it through my hair. “Welcome back stateside.”
His eyes flickered between Sonia and me, and in that instant, I knew he already knew. That Mason had gotten to him first.
“Thanks. So, what’s changed since I’ve been gone?” There was a careful undertone in his voice, careful not to give away that he knew because he did. Charles knew everything. It was why his daughters couldn’t get away with anything.
“Hey, Charles.” Sonia teetered on her heels. “How was your, uh … honeymoon?” She shrank into herself.
“Sun was shining; wife was happy. What more could I ask for?” Charles threw Sonia a smile, but then his eyes slid to me, and his smile slipped.
Charles was the scary brother, never emotional, even-keeled. When he got mad, it was a brewing silence, the kind of anger that was silent but deadly. All you wanted to do was talk yourself out of the mess until he said everything would be okay.
Sonia shifted forward and clutched the roses in one hand and tried to hide it behind her.
Isn’t she cute?
“Can I order you lunch? I’m about to put in an order for Brad at Sunrise Diner. Did you want anything?” Her eyes skittered around the room, landing anywhere but on my face, and all I could think about was how close I’d been to kissing her, to tasting those beautiful, succulent lips again.
“No, I think I’m good,” he answered her, but Charles’s focus remained fixed on me.
Then, he flipped like a light switch, eyes light, and addressed Sonia, “But can you make a posting on our website and submit a newspaper post for Kristin?”
“Kristin?” I asked, wondering what had happened to Mason’s secretary. Maybe she wasn’t coming back because of his annoying ass.
“Yeah.” Then, like a coin toss, he was back to brewing Charles, his eyes steady on mine. “She’s decided to stay at home with her new baby, and she won’t be coming back to work. We’ll need to find a replacement immediately.”
“Will do.”
Sonia was almost to the door when I called out, “Thanks, Sonia.” Because I wanted the last word with her. And I’d officially lost my balls.
The door shut, and Charles and I were left alone. My big brother and me.
“So, is there something you have to tell me?” Charles adjusted the chair facing my desk and plopped down.
Tell him? There was so much I wanted to tell him, but I didn’t want to risk sounding like a pussy, looking like a pussy, and worst of all, I didn’t want him to disregard my need for Sonia, just as Mason had.
I scratched at my temple. Why did it feel like I was in the principal’s office?
He lifted an eyebrow, and the silence choked the air out of the room. Charles did that. With one stare. Maybe it was the fatherly stare, that innate look that frightened not only the children, but adults, too.
I sat behind my desk, dropping my head against the custom-made mahogany wood. “I know you know, and I know what you’re going to say, so why should I waste the effort or your time?”
“I want to hear it from you, or do you want me to just repeat Mason’s version?”
I could hear Mason’s voice in my head, picture his animated face, his over-the-top hand gestures … and so I began. Again.
I told Charles everything. I started at the beginning and told him how Sonia had helped Sarah get her pads; how, in turn, I had promised her that I would accompany her to the wedding and how it had been the game changer for me. I told him I liked Sonia, more than I ever had any other woman. That there wasn’t a waking moment that I didn’t think of her and how I had spent most of my days wondering how I could ask her out and tell her how I feel but was afraid of rejection. I told him that I was obsessed with kissing her, and if kissing her was all I would ever do in life, I would die a happy man.
I laid it all out on the table, looking at my hands, at the pen marks on my desk, my mouse pad with our logo, anywhere but his face. I was being a coward, afraid to see contempt, disgust, or even disbelief because I had never been more honest than I was being right now. And I’d never been more vulnerable when it came to another woman.
“I can’t sleep or eat.” I dug my hands into my hair, repeating the motion. “I’m honestly obsessed, and I just need advice on how to win her.” I lifted my head and dared to see his reaction.
Charles was covering his mouth with one hand, and then, when our stares met, he let out a peal of laughter.
If I could disown my brothers, I would, but then we’d have to break up the company.
“I never thought I’d see the day.” Charles’s laughter heightened, and he rubbed at his eyes.
“Shut up.” My parents were most likely turning over in their graves from all the support I was getting here. “I’m getting my lunch, and just so you and Mason are clear, I promised I wouldn’t fire her, so I’m not going to. We’ll work it out.” I stood and made my way around my desk as I shook my head. “Thanks for kicking me when I’m down, bro.”
Charles stood and pressed a heavy hand against my shoulder, humor dimming from his face. “Listen, I’ve been in love twice, so I know a thing or two about women.”
I glared at him. “I’m not in love.”
Charles chuckled, as though he didn’t believe me. “Acceptance is the first step to recovery.”
“Whatever.” I leaned against the end of my desk. Am I in love? Shit. I rubbed my neck with my hand, suddenly feeling like I wanted to throw up. I didn’t think love happened that fast. Didn’t it take months of dating?
“Being in love isn’t a bad thing, Brad. I wouldn’t have gotten married twice if it was.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing here, Charles.”
The walls were closing in. It was as though the longer I took to act, the more I was afraid someone would act before me, as though I’d missed my window of opportunity and someone else would snatch her up.
“Why didn’t I notice her before?” I said out loud, not expecting an answer.
“I guess it was because you didn’t give her a chance. I hired her specifically because she wasn’t your type, but then again, maybe you don’t even know your type. You’ve been looking at all the wrong women, brother.” Another disbelieving laugh escaped him. “She’s a feisty one. And here I thought, I had my hands full.”
When he started for the door, I straightened. “Wait. Where’s my advice?”
“Your advice?” His eyes were amused. “Talk to her. Tell her how you feel.”
Exactly what Sarah said.
“Easier said than done.” I tipped my chin. “I’m not letting her go.” I had promised her, and I’d keep my word that her job would remain intact.