by Andi Burns
As anticipated, she doesn’t miss a beat. “Such a good idea, lover. And I definitely want a shot of you in that tux. So sexy.” She practically purrs as she wraps her hand around mine, heightening the intensity of my touch.
“Uh, yes.” Lori clears her throat. “We take many pictures of each member of the wedding party. You said there were four men and four women in addition to the bride and groom. Is that right?”
“Yes, that’s right.” Molly confirms. And really, she had a point earlier, outside the car. She doesn’t need me. I don’t even know how many people are in the wedding party. But, she’s stuck with me.
“Though, really,” she adds, “who’s even going to notice those other guys with this stud muffin in the picture.” She growls playfully and grabs my tie. “And you’re no stranger to posing for the camera, are you, Pookie Bear? I’ve got the pics on my phone to prove it.” Swinging her leg in my direction, she intertwines our calves and, in doing so, scoots us that much closer together. We’re practically in each other’s laps.
I feel a momentary twinge of guilt for putting Lori through our little escapade, and I’m sure these antics will cement our place in the ranks of obnoxious couples she never wants to see again. But I can’t quite convince myself to worry about that right now. Molly has thrown down the gauntlet, and I need to let her know this game is far from over.
“What can I say? I love taking pictures for my little bonbon.” My hand reaches out to take hold of a lock of her hair. It’s like spun gold. I twist it around my finger and inhale the scent of honey. Molly laughs flirtatiously, but the look in her eyes is far from loving. That’s all the encouragement I need.
“So, Lori, I know we’re here for Elaine and Simon, but I do have a quick non-wedding question.”
“Of course.” She’s back to being nonplussed.
“Do you do boudoir shots?”
Molly’s hand encircles my wrist, and she squeezes. She’s strong, I’ll give her that. But the pain doesn’t bother me at all.
“Uh, yes, actually, we do offer that service. We can do it here at the studio, or even in your home.”
“That’s fantastic. I think we’d prefer to do it at our place, wouldn’t we, sweetums? All the props are already there.”
I can tell by the quickened pace of her breathing that I’ve, yet again, caught Molly off guard, something she really doesn’t like. However, that pulse also tells me I’ve turned her on. Our chemistry at the bar that night, and in her bedroom, wasn’t a one-off. I know it. She knows it. The question is, what are we going to do about it?
“We can set up a date for that, if you’re ready to book, or I can include those package details in your folder along with the wedding info.”
“Yes, thanks, if you could put that in the folder, that’d be great. I do have one more quick question. Is anyone here equipped to do a photo shoot with a live bear?”
“Uhhh…”
“We don’t have a live bear, of course. But I’m sure we could rent one. It’s just that we have this bear-skin rug we like to, uh, use and I thought…”
The squeak I hear from Molly before she covers it with a coughing fit is the trophy I’ve been waiting for. She just barely manages to hold back her laughter. “Ev, you animal.” She admonishes with a smile. “I think we’ve taken up more than enough of your time, Lori. Thank you so much for all of this information. Your work truly is incredible. I’ll relay that to Elaine, and I’m sure she’ll give you a call this week.”
Relief is evident on Lori’s face as she returns the pleasantries and reminds us that spring and summer dates are booking up fast.
We’re securely in the car—Molly behind the wheel me in the passenger seat—when she swats my arm and yells, “you asshole! Live bear? What the fuck, Ev?”
“I was just following your lead, lover.” I repeat the word that started it all.
“Bullshit. You started it by grabbing my thigh!”
Okay, she has a point.
“Listen, you said you’d take the lead, that you really didn’t need my help. I just wanted to play the role I was assigned: eye candy.”
“You are infuriating,” she grumbles, as she puts the car in reverse and backs out of the lot.
“I’m also hungry. Can we grab lunch or do you have to get right back to work?”
“Are you kidding me right now?”
“Not at all. It’s just past noon. We should eat.”
“I need to head over to Elaine’s to drop this info off and apologize profusely for the fact that the photographer probably won’t answer her calls after the scene we put on in there.”
“Good luck getting food at my sister’s place. On second thought, I did see a couple packs of rice cakes in her pantry, so scratch that. You’re in for a delicious treat at Elaine’s.”
“Haha.” She rolls her eyes at me and then turns on to the main drag.
“Seriously, let’s grab lunch. Elaine and Simon are probably still at the doctor’s. We both want to know what’s up, and they’re going to call one of us first. It makes sense to stick together, so we can both hear what the doctor said.”
“Fine.” She sighs heavily, and though I’ve presented a logical argument, I can tell she’s annoyed at the prospect of spending the next hour with me. That certainly wasn’t the case back in December, but lunch will give me some time to smooth things out.
Molly parks on the street (impressively so, I must say), and leads me into a restaurant on the corner. The interior is all wooden beams and stone. The ceiling is high and antique fans hang still from vaulted poles. A fire roars over by the bar and high-backed leather booths line the wall along the street.
It’s fairly crowded, but Molly snags us a table near the fire. “Elaine and I eat here, at The Tavern, every Friday. It’s our favorite place.”
“It’s nice.” I scan the menu, trying to decide between the Shrimp Caesar salad and the French dip. Who am I kidding? The sandwich comes with fries. Normally, I’d stick with salad. But I’d also normally spend two hours at the gym, everyday, and ten at the office. For some reason, the state of Maryland is an alternate reality for me.
When I’m here, I feel like I can be myself. And, oddly, I’m just beginning to realize that I haven’t felt like myself in years. I can’t remember the last time I felt like no one was judging my actions or keeping score. My line of work is all about winning and it’s a really liberating feeling to be able to step away from that.
Before I can even tell Ev what’s good, Brittany swings by with an order of pulled pork nachos, one water with lemon, and one without. She knows me so well.
“Hey, Molls. I saw you come in. You ladies are never here on a Monday. I—woah.” She turns to Ev. “You’re not Elaine.”
“No, but you’re not too far off. I’m her brother, Everett. Nice to meet you.” Holding out a hand for her to shake, he turns on his irresistible smile. He’s got nearly twenty years on her, I’m guessing, but that doesn’t lessen the effect that his charm has on Britt.
“Well, Ev, it’s nice to meet you. Do you have the same water preference as your sister, or can I get you something else?”
“This is great, thanks.”
Brittany walks off to see to another table, and I take a minute to check my phone.
“Any word?”
“Not yet. So, I’m not sure what you’re hungry for, but everything here is good.”
“I’m leaning heavily toward the French dip.”
“You won’t regret it. And the fries are amazing.”
Britt checks back in, and we place our orders. She warns that the kitchen is backed up a bit, but I assure her that we’ve got nachos, so we’re in good shape.
Ev and I have somehow veered into normal, everyday conversation and I can’t let that happen.We’re sharing an appetizer and talking about the menu like we have regular lunch dates. We do not. I need to remind myself that this man is simply a man with whom I spent a (glorious, mind blowing) night. He also happens to be my best
friend’s brother, and, consequently, our lives are intertwined. Still. Distance is key.
“So, where are we headed tomorrow?”
“What? Nowhere. We are not headed anywhere. If Elaine needs me to, I might be going to see another photographer after I check out a venue, but you are not invited.”
“Why the hostility? You’ve been mad since we got in the car to go meet the photographer.”
His question is sincere; there’s no malice behind it. He’s not even being snarky. And yet, he’s still pissing me off.
And that pisses me off.
And I don’t know what to do about it.
So I take a drink.
And snack on some nachos. I can’t answer if I’m chewing—that’s just rude.
“Wow, you must be really hungry and thirsty…” He deadpans.
I nod, because my mouth is full. Also, if I open my mouth (once I’m finished chewing, of course), I might say hateful things.
“You’re also thoroughly pissed at me.”
Still chewing. Yep, chewing really well. No choking hazards here.
“And I can’t figure out why.”
I take a sip. You know, to aid with the chewing.
He arches an eyebrow at me, and I might have returned it with half a smirk. But only half. I’ve given him too much of myself already.
In a move that would rival the swiftness of an NBA star, Ev swipes the nacho platter in one hand and my water in the other, holding both just out of my reach.
Now, at 5’10”, I’m a tall gal. I’ve got long limbs. But he’s taller. And he’s got the wingspan of a condor. So unless I want to cause a scene in this restaurant, I’m not getting my food or beverage back any time soon.
“Really? You’re withholding food and drink?”
“Yep.” I want to wipe that smile right off his face.
“You want to know why you piss me off?”
“I do.”
“Fine. It’s because no one pisses me off. I am fucking charming and Goddamn delightful at all times.” I tell him this as I’m basically breathing fire in his direction.
“You were fucking charming and Goddamn delightful when I met you in December, “ he confirms.
“Right? That was me in my natural habitat. I. Am. Lovely.” I seeth.
“While I’m in full agreement, the steam that’s virtually spewing from your ears causes me a moment’s hesitation.”
“It’s because you’re back! You’re not supposed to be back! And you’re Elaine’s brother. You are not supposed to be Elaine’s brother!”
“Should I be taking notes as to all the things I’m not supposed to be or do?”
“No.” I roll my eyes.
“Wait, so is asking you if I should take notes one of the things I’m not supposed to do? Or is taking notes the thing I shouldn’t do? I’m just seeking clarification.”
“Oh, my God. None of this is going to matter because I’m going to strangle you.”
“Best to wait until after the boudoir shoot, don’t you think? You don’t want to rouse Lori’s suspicions. Plus, I know you want to see me naked again.”
He says it casually, and I know he means it to get a rise out of me, but dammit, he’s right.
“You’re right. And that’s the problem.” My admission leaves him speechless, just as Brittany arrives with our food.
She thanks him for holding our nachos up and out of the way, so she can place our plates down. “Sure thing,” he smiles. Bastard. He held that food hostage, so I’d confess!
Well, now I have and the level of awkwardness has skyrocketed. We’re both fixated on our food, dressing it just so and paying a ridiculous amount of attention to proper condiment placement.
Certain that my chipotle mayo is spread evenly and the pickles are far, far away from everything else on my plate, I proceed to eat my lunch. Awkward I can handle. A cold cheeseburger? Hell no.
We eat in relative silence, with the occasional perfunctory lunch conversation sprinkled in. He asks for my pickle, I steal his ranch dressing.
I’m just about to tell him that we are adults, and we can handle this situation. That there’s no need for stilted small talk and covert sauce maneuvers. My wanting to see him naked again does not need to remotely figure into this little mission we completed for Elaine and Simon.
Yea, I’m just about to say all that when our phones simultaneously buzz. I check mine, just as he palms his. And I have no doubt we’re looking at the same message.
Simon: Good news—the baby is fine! We even heard the heartbeat. The Force is strong with this one, no doubt. But… Lainie’s in rough shape. Can you guys swing by for a few minutes? I’ve got a favor to ask.
Molly: Of course—anything you guys need. Such good news about the little one!
Ev: We’re on our way. And I’m glad to hear my little niece or nephew is doing great.
“You good, or do you want a few minutes to finish up?” Ev asks.
“No, I’m fine. And I want to head over there and see what’s up with Elaine. Sounds like she might be dealing with this for a while.”
“That’s the feeling I get, too,” he says, as he lays some bills on the table.
“Here, let me—” I reach for my purse.
He smiles, as if he knows something I don’t. “No time, gorgeous. Let’s hit the road. You still driving?”
“Always.”
“Fine by me. You’re in charge of the wheels. I’m in charge of the bedroom.” He smiles
“Bold of you to assume you and I will ever be in a bedroom together again.”
“Bold of you to assume we can only have sex in a bedroom.”
We get to Simon and Elaine’s to find E camped out in the living room. She’s nestled on the couch amid blankets and pillows, and she’s got a side table filled with books. If it weren’t for the ghostly, hollow look on her face, I’d envy the girl.
“Sweetie!” I take a seat beside her and wrap her in a gentle hug. “So, good news about the babe?” I prompt.
The guys join us, and Simon shows us one of those grainy ultrasound pics. He’s beaming just like a proud dad-to-be should. As is expected, we ooh and ah over the blurry lima bean shape, as though we can even make sense of the image.
“Baby Walker is in perfect health. All is good where that’s concerned. The heartbeat was strong, and Dr. Sutherland was really pleased.”
“That’s the good news,” Elaine chimes in and squeezes Simon’s hand. “The other side of it is that I have a condition called Hyperemesis Gravidarum.”
“Which,” Simon interjects,” is morning sickness on crack.It’s unrelenting. It poses no immediate threat to the baby, but it’s wreaking havoc on Lainie. The doctor wasn’t happy with her fluid levels or weight loss, so we’re going in twice a week for fluids. And she’s on bed rest for the foreseeable future.”
“I’m allowed to walk around, though. Bedrest sounds a little Victorian. Let’s call it homebound.” E smiles.
“Yeah, that sounds like you’re on house arrest,” I tell her.
“Pretty much. Just the thought of going into the office drains me. And I can’t keep most food or drink down, so it’s best for everyone if I stay here for a while.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll miss Tall Steve, Wayne, and Harold, but, somehow, you’ll pull through.”
“Ha! Speaking of Tall Steve, do you have a ream of paper for me?”
“You know I do.” The bag is by the door.
“Ok, so catch me up here. Is Tall Steve the guy I saw leaving your office today?” Ev asks.
“Bald spot as big as a saucer? Beady eyes? Face like a weasel?”
“That’s disturbingly accurate.”
“Yep, that’s him.”
“Ok, but, why do you call him Tall Steve.The guy’s not even 6 foot.”
“True, but he has a solid foot on Short Steve,” Elaine answers.
“Short Steve? Wait, there’s a Short Steve?” Simon seems genuinely surprised.
“Of co
urse. But he left the company three or four years ago,” I explain.
Simon and Ev look at us speculatively, but I roll my eyes. “Everyone knows the worst nicknames are the ones most likely to stick.”
“You make a good point.” Ev concedes. It’s the first time he’s really spoken to me since he dropped that bombshell about being in charge in the bedroom. “So, as far as this morning sickness hell goes, how can we help? I just did a quick google search, and it sounds brutal.”
“Well, we have a bunch of wedding appointments scheduled for the next few weeks. And I’m not really fit for company right now, so…”
“And I’m sticking close to home. So, would you mind going to the next few weeks’ worth of appointments for us, like you did today? Oh,how did it go with Lori?” Simon asks.
Ev and I share a look before he says, “Great. Her work is incredible. The folder with all the info you need is on top of the bag filled with Tall Steve’s reams of paper.”
“Fantastic, thanks.”
“And, listen, of course Molly and I are happy to help in any way we can.”
Elaine arches a brow at Ev’s coupling of our names, and I know I’ll have some ‘splaining to do. My best friend misses nothing.
“Elaine, you’re a gorgeous creature, but you look beat.” I give her a gentle squeeze and say my goodbyes.
“Yeah, we should probably head out.” Ev agrees. And dammit, he’s doing it again! He and I are not a we!
“No need to walk us out, Simon,” I assure him, as he begins to stand. “Take care of E and the wee nugget.”
“Will do.” He smiles.
We round the car and settle in; I’m still in the driver’s seat. Well, the actual driver’s seat. Metaphorically, I’m pretty sure Ev has the upper hand right now.
So, I decide to reclaim the reins.
“What was with all that ‘we’ shit back there?” I question, as we roll toward the interstate that will take us back to Chesapeake Shores.
“Caught that, did you?” He smirks.