by Megan Hart
Vic didn’t protest or try to pretend he didn’t know who I meant. “Why would I ask her out?”
“Because she’s totally into you and you like her, too.” That was the truth. I never saw Vic laugh so much as when Elaine was sitting in the waiting room at the shop. “She’s pretty, she’s smart, she’s not a psycho.”
Silence.
Then, “Fine.”
“Fine,” I said, as if that was that, even though I thought I was getting the worse end of the deal. Not that Vic had any idea of why or how complicated the situation really was. But I didn’t want him worrying about me anymore, and I didn’t want him sitting around the house night after night doing nothing but watching TV.
Vic deserved a life, too.
So I went to the dance with Chance, and I watched his brother make out with Becka on the dance floor, and some part of me died inside because until that moment I hadn’t known or wanted to admit I loved just one of the brothers Murphy, and it wasn’t the one I was there with.
Chapter 13
Forget love making the world go round, it’s all about the sugar and the caffeine, baby. We had three different specialty drinks that changed every week, along with the normal coffees, and fresh-baked desserts that had arrived that morning, including rich fudge brownies with inch-thick icing, chocolate muffins, and a truly stellar apple-crumb muffin that liked to call my name.
And then…there was Meredith.
I’d been half hoping she wouldn’t come in that day. Worried that she wouldn’t. I shouldn’t have been concerned. She breezed in the way she always did, with a smile for everyone and an extra special one for me.
“What’s good today? Other than your pretty self?”
In the past I’d blown off her flirting as fake, given it back to her in a way she couldn’t construe as anything but a joke. Today I didn’t quite have it in me. “We have the peppermint mocha lattes, early this year. Back by popular demand. They’re good.”
“Sugar-free?”
“Sure.” I gestured at the menu board, though of course she’d been in dozens of times and probably could’ve recited the items on it as well as I could. “The caramel macchiato’s good, too. But we don’t have that in sugar-free—we ran out of the syrup. Sorry.”
“I’ll take a peppermint, then.” She leaned over the counter. “And come see me when it’s ready.”
My boss could be ten kinds of a cranky bitch, but today Joy was in the back placing stock orders, or maybe plotting new ways to make life miserable. I mixed up Meredith’s latte the way she liked it, adding an extra pump of syrup without charging her because I liked to do that for my favorites even when they didn’t know about it.
She’d taken her usual seat between the front window and the self-serve coffee station, and she was staring out the glass when I put the cup down in front of her. Her smile took a few seconds to follow her eyes. She wrapped her hands around the cup with a sigh. “Mmmm.”
“Taste it. Make sure it’s okay.”
“I’m sure it’s great.” She sipped anyway, saying “mmmm” again, this time with a low, breathy sound, almost like a moan.
I paused in refilling the napkin canister to look at her. The Morningstar Mocha had emptied, though the evening rush meant that would change soon enough. Meredith made eyes at me over the rim of her mug.
“Sit down with me, Tesla.”
I gave a quick glance around first. I shrugged and pushed the napkin holder back into place. “I can’t.”
“I need to talk to you.”
“I’m listening.” I bent to pull open the cupboard to check for more packets of sweetener. “But I have to work, too.”
“Have you thought any more about what I asked you?”
The bell over the front door jangled and Carlos came in, with a nod for me and a wink for Meredith before he slid into his favorite seat. Sometimes watching the customers in here was like overseeing an elaborate ballet—this one liked this seat and was out of it by a certain hour so another could come in. Woe to the person who overstayed his time or messed up the seating chart. Carlos preferred the table closer to the right front window, because it was near an outlet for his computer and also, strangely (so he said) didn’t pick up the internet as well. Less temptation to distract him.
I, on the other hand, could’ve used a distraction from this conversation. “Carlos, you need anything?”
“Gonna need a bottomless in a few. But I can grab a mug for myself.”
Only if Joy wasn’t there to see him. She had some lame rule about customers not helping themselves to mugs, even the regulars and even though, like the seats, they all tended to use their favorites from the purposefully mismatched collection. Some of them even brought in mugs to donate.
“Carlos, you love the bottomless,” Meredith called over to him, and they both laughed. To me she said, “Sit for just a minute.”
I shook my head. “I should get behind the counter.”
“Tesla. We have to talk about this.”
“Not here,” I told her.
“Fine.” She sat back in her seat. “But sometime. I’m not going to let this fuck up our friendship.”
“Like fucking your husband wouldn’t?” I whispered fiercely.
She didn’t pull away, didn’t scowl, didn’t frown. Her brows didn’t even knit on that perfect forehead. “Not if I asked you to, it wouldn’t.”
“And you’re asking me to.”
“I’m inviting you to, yes.” She smiled, one brow lifting just so. “I don’t ask just anyone.”
Something twisted and jerked in the vicinity of my heart. “You ask a lot of women?”
Now she appeared concerned, and reached for my hand. I turned my body so that even if Carlos looked up, he wouldn’t necessarily see us holding hands like moony high school sweethearts. I didn’t pull away, though.
“No. You’re the first.”
Her gaze flicked behind me. I heard the sound of sneakers squeaking on the tile floor—Joy’s distinctive tread, and then the long-suffering sigh that told me she was gearing up to complain about something. I put away the extra sweetener and napkins so she couldn’t complain about me, and crumpled up the paper wrapping from the containers I’d emptied the supplies from.
“I’ve thought about it,” I said.
Meredith smiled and settled back in her seat. “And?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“You could just come and meet him. He’ll like you, Tesla.” She paused. “And I know you’ll like him.”
I sighed. “He knows about this?”
“Of course he knows. C’mon. Come out to dinner with us tonight. We’ll talk about it.”
I didn’t say no.
Chapter 14
“You should get yourself one. Then you don’t have to drive Cap’s.” Vic jerked his chin toward the window and the parking lot beyond, where I’d parked the Mustang.
I shrugged. “Meh. The Contour has to do it for me for a while. Unless you’ll give me a good trade-in....”
He laughed. Vic had sold me the car originally. “On that piece of—”
“Uh-huh. See how far friendship gets me? Nowheresville, man.” I shook my head in mock sorrow and tossed him the keys to Cap’s car. “What was wrong with it?”
Vic shrugged, pocketing them. “Don’t know. Cap tightened some things. Changed your oil and stuff, too. Why do you wait so long for that?”
I fluttered my eyelashes and put my hands beneath my chin to look winsome. “Cuz I don’t have a big stwong man to do it for me?”
Vic made a face. “You have your brother. And me. Hey, listen, I have to run some errands. Cap’s coming in, but he’s late. Can you hang until he gets here?”
I’d done my share of shifts at the garage, but waiting on my brother could take forever. “Actually, I have plans. How late is he?”
Vic looked at the clock. “Ten minutes. He should be here soon. I think I pulled him away from a project or something.”
“Tha
t would explain it. Yeah, sure, I can wait for him. What are you doing?” I asked for curiosity’s sake, not to be nosy, but Vic’s expression immediately shut like a door in my face.
“Errands. What are you doing?”
“Uh…well, it’s sort of a date.”
This pulled him up short. “Another one?”
“Yeah. Surprise, surprise, someone digs me enough to go out with me twice,” I said a little sourly. “Christ, Vic. Way to stroke my ego. Anyway, it’s just sort of a date. Not really a date.”
“What makes it not really a date?”
I hesitated, trying to think if I wanted to explain. Or how. “Well…it’s with my friend Meredith. And her husband.”
Vic looked confused. “How does that work?”
I laughed. “So far it doesn’t work like anything. It’s just…you know. A date. Sort of.”
Vic knew I’d dated girls and had never said much about it. Now he gave me the side-eye. “So who’s the date with? Your friend? Or her husband?”
“Um…both of them.”
Vic seemed pained. “Tesla.”
I snorted softly. “You asked.”
He made a face and waved his hands at me. “I’m sorry I did. I have to get going. Sure you’re okay until Cap gets here?”
“I’m fine, unless he’s really late, and then I’m locking up and leaving.”
Vic nodded. “Fair enough. See you at home.”
All dressed up, I didn’t really want to sit in the chair at his desk, but the ones in the waiting room weren’t much better. I settled for filling a paper cup with water from the bubbler and looking over Vic’s collection of vintage pinup calendars. No bare boobies—he was careful about stuff like that where kids could see. But plenty of pretty girls with Bettie Page haircuts and high heels. I was just getting ready to call my brother and tell him to get his ass to the garage when lights swept the lot and a car pulled in. I went to the door.
“Hey.” Cap got out of the passenger side, leaned in to say something to the driver, then shut the door and thumped the roof before the car drove off. He turned to me. “What’re you doing here?”
“Glad to see you, too. Vic had to go. I brought your car back. Safe,” I added, when he automatically looked for it in the lot. “I only scratched it with a Brillo pad a little bit all over.”
Cap winced. “Don’t even.”
With him there, I could head out, but I paused. “Hey, listen. Has Vic said anything to you lately?”
Cap, my tall, broad-shouldered brother, was handsome enough to turn heads, but though I knew he was smart, he often did his best to hide it. “About what?”
“Anything.”
“Vic doesn’t talk to me about much beyond cars, Tesla.” Cap shrugged.
“You look tired.”
He yawned. Shrugged. Cap wasn’t much of a talker.
I glanced in the direction the car had gone. “Lynds gave you a ride? How’s she doing?”
Another shrug.
I sighed. Whatever was going on with Cap and his roomie had been happening for long enough that I knew better than to ask him about it when I had someplace to go. It could take him hours to reveal the tiniest piece of information. Instead, I stood on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek and hug him, hard. I punched his chin lightly.
“Giant little brother,” I said.
This earned a smile. “Tiny big sis.”
“Gotta go.” I backed up toward my car, and my brother’s voice stopped me as I pulled open the door.
“Heard you had a date.”
I stopped to look over my shoulder. “What? Who told you that? And when?”
“Vic called to ream me for being late, said you were waiting.”
“I thought he didn’t talk to you about anything but cars.”
Cap smiled. I smiled, too. But I didn’t offer any details. If my brother could keep silent about whatever monkeyshines he was getting up to with his roommate, I could hold my tongue about a first date.
We left it at that.
Chapter 15
I’d agreed to meet Meredith and Charlie at the Firehouse, one of the nicer restaurants downtown. Waiting for them in the parking lot, pacing back and forth alongside my car, I wished I smoked. It would’ve given me something to do with my hands besides chew my fingernails. When they pulled up in Meredith’s familiar black Saab, I did think about turning tail. Just…running. But it was only a date, after all. It wasn’t a lifetime contract.
Instead, I took in a deep breath, straightened my skirt and held off from running my fingers through my hair again. It was already ruffled and spiked, the fringes splayed artfully (or so I hoped) against my cheeks. Touching wouldn’t make it look any better, and probably worse.
Meredith got out first, as put together and beautiful as always. She waved, her smile familiar but not exactly setting me at ease. “Tesla! Hi!”
Charlie didn’t look anything like I thought he would.
He was gorgeous, of course. I shouldn’t have expected anything less, for a woman who looked like Meredith. I’d expected athletic, bronzed, blond and blue-eyed, the Ken to her Barbie. Charlie was something else altogether.
He stood about five-ten, still a good five inches taller than me and a few more than his wife. His dark hair had glints of silver at the temples and was brushed off his forehead, trimmed neatly around his ears and the nape of his neck. He had dark eyes with a few lines at the corners. Smile lines, too. He wore a teal shirt beneath his dark suit jacket, his tie a swirl of colors. He’d dressed up…for me?
“Tesla?” He moved forward, a hand out to take mine. The other closed over it, both his hands wrapping mine with warmth. “Meredith’s told me so much about you. Nice to meet you.”
For one long minute we stayed like that, the possibilities of what might lie ahead somehow palpable between us. Like something solid I could touch, if only I could make myself remove my hand from Charlie’s. He was grinning, I saw that much, before I realized I was also smiling like a fool.
He didn’t drop my hand, but released it gently, and I’m not going to lie, it sort of felt like it floated back to my side rather than fell. Every part of me felt a little bit like I was floating just then. Silly and giddy. It didn’t occur to me to mention that while his wife might’ve told him a lot about me, she’d barely said anything about him.
“Let’s go inside,” Meredith suggested.
Both of us followed her without a pause, and I don’t know about Charlie, but I was glad to be led so that I didn’t have to think about where to put my feet. She kept up the familiar rattle-tatta-tat of her constant conversation all the way, stepping aside without missing a beat to let Charlie open the door for her—and for me. He ushered us in, one hand alighting briefly on the small of my back, there and gone so fast I might’ve imagined it if everything about this night wasn’t already permanently engraving itself in my brain.
Charlie pulled my chair out for me.
Now, I was no stranger to good manners. My parents, despite their fairly free and easy ways, had been sticklers for “please and thank you.” But pulling out chairs went beyond their casual attitude. I froze for a second while Meredith settled into hers, and Charlie gave me a curious glance.
“Thanks,” I said.
He smiled. “Sure.”
“I’m starving.” Meredith grabbed up the menu. “What do you want, honey? What are you hungry for?”
“I don’t—” I began.
Then stuttered to a stop as Charlie said “I think I—”
It was Meredith who bridged the moment with laughter, making this okay. I liked the way Charlie ducked his head shyly, and covered his eyes with his hand for just a moment before he looked at me. He gestured for me to go first. A gentleman.
“I’ve never been here before. What’s good?” I studied the menu to hide the rising flush in my cheeks.
“I like the T-bone steak,” Charlie said. “Oh…unless you’re a vegetarian, Tesla.”
It charmed me suddenly tha
t he seemed as nervous as I felt. “God, no.”
“Oh, our Tesla likes meat.” Meredith gave me a slow wink that made my cheeks heat further. “Don’t you?”
By then the waiter had come to see what we wanted to drink. Meredith urged Charlie to pick a wine, and they both argued amiably over which bottle to buy, while I sat and watched them be in love. Envy had no taste this time; envy was just a breath threatening to push me over.
“Tesla?” Charlie said at last, while the waiter looked on with barely concealed disdain. “What would you like?”
I knew nothing of wine, but they were both gazing at me expectantly. “Whatever you guys like, I guess.”
“Charlie,” Meredith said with the slightest edge to her tone, “order the merlot.”
He looked at her. “Sure. Okay. We’ll take the merlot.”
It was the only edge during the dinner. The rest of the time, the three of us laughed and carried on like the best of friends. Charlie had a terrific sense of humor and was what my mother had always called “wicked smaht” in that slight Boston accent that she hadn’t passed along to my brother or me. And he was sweet, too, making sure our glasses were filled and that we lacked for nothing.
“Tell Charlie about your summers,” Meredith urged as the waiter put our desserts in front of us.
“Oh. My summers.” I paused, fork hovering over the piece of chocolate cake. “What do you want me to tell him?”
“He’ll be fascinated,” Meredith said.
Charlie smiled. “Will I?”
“I spent most of my summers in a commune.” I poked the top of the cake with my fork but didn’t scrape off a bite. “My parents were both college professors at Franklin and Marshall College. They had this share in a place in upstate New York called The Compound. A real holdover from the sixties, though most of it was built in the seventies. It was really…umm…well…”
What could I say about The Compound? Just as the stories Meredith had asked me to tell didn’t sound crazy to me until I said them out loud to someone else, nothing about The Compound seemed interesting or exciting until I started telling stories. Which was why I usually said nothing to anyone who wouldn’t understand.