On the surface, my life looks like everything is coming up roses. Brown, Brown, and Green officially announced our partnership as the architects of One Rosenthal. I had been worried that Walter Junior would perhaps take issue with what had happened at Bull Market, but it turns out, he ended up picking up some rando and totally forgot about Aimée. Also, he thinks we’re good buddies somehow and keeps hinting that we should play squash again soon. Not bloody likely.
We’re in full swing on the project, our team is busy finalizing everything so we can go over it with the construction crew. It’s enough work to keep us hopping for years and it’s going to be the greatest achievement of my career—it’s what I’ve been building toward since I first picked up a mechanical pencil all those years ago and drew up a treehouse for an assignment at uni. I should be beyond thrilled. Celebrating, ecstatic. The congratulatory phone calls have been coming in by the dozen, and yet … I don’t give a dead rat’s arse because I’ve ruined the one thing that actually makes life worth living—the relationship with the woman I love.
If I could go back and do it all differently, I would. Right from the moment she skidded into my arms. Well, maybe not that bit, but the rest, absolutely. I wouldn’t have been a coward. I would have played it straight with her and told her the truth about everything from day one—who Byron really is to me, how I feel about her, my fears about disappointing her—everything. And right now, I’d be back at my apartment tapping away on my laptop and sneaking glances at her while she invents another amazing dish. I’d be planning a romantic getaway for us, thinking about whisking her home to London to meet my family and friends. I know it sounds crazy-fast, but it wouldn’t be too much longer before I would have been picking out a ring.
Those thoughts haunt me every hour of every day, and I honestly don’t know when (or if) they’ll ever stop. The worst has been the waiting, the praying she’ll show up for the employee appreciation lunch, but she sends Teisha in her place. I don’t blame her, but the level of disappointment when the elevator door opens and she’s not there has been a real kick in the gut. In spite of myself, I get my hopes up only to have them crushed with the force of a wrecking ball when I see it’s not her. Teisha hates me, by the way, as any good best friend would, I suppose. She glares at me while she slaps my food on a plate, and I swear, she mutters the word “liar” as soon as I turn my back. Which I am.
I grab my empty coffee mug and make my way toward the kitchen. I’m pretty much surviving on caffeine since I find I can no longer sleep without Aimée in my arms. When I pass Byron’s desk, he says, “You’re not going to try to talk to Teisha again, are you?”
“No,” I say, rolling my eyes, even though that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
“Good, because she’s serving deviled eggs, which are perfect for sling-shotting off a spoon,” he says while he scrolls on his mobile. “I think you may have to let it lie, Noel. Aimée’s made it more than clear she’s done with both of us. Shame, really, because I miss her.”
“Oh, do you?” I ask. “How awful for you.”
Rolling his eyes, he says, “I know it’s not easy for you either. Don’t think it escaped my notice that you’re sleeping here every night, and call it twin-tuition, but I know it’s because your place feels too empty without her.”
I don’t answer because I can’t bear to admit the sad truth.
“Um-hmm, thought so.”
When I get to the kitchen, Teisha’s there, humming while she lights the propane burner under one of the serving trays. I offer her a weary smile and get the usual stink-eye in return. “Hi, Teisha.”
She grunts in response while I walk past her to the coffee maker. I fill up my mug, then turn to her. “Is she okay?”
“That is none of your beeswax,” she answers without making eye-contact.
“You’re right, but I just … have to know that she’ll be okay,” I say with a sigh.
“She’ll be just fine, no thanks to you.”
Damn it. “So, she’s not okay.”
“I didn’t say that.” Teisha looks up at me for a second. “But she will be when she finds someone worthy of her, which should happen tomorrow night because I’m taking her dancing. Rebound, Mr. Right—doesn’t matter so long as he’s not a lying scumbag.”
“Teisha, if I could go back—”
She holds up one hand. “Save it. And you can stop sending flowers and all those fancy meals over. They just end up in the trash.” She pauses for a second, then adds, “Well, not the food. We eat it and it’s pretty darn good so you can keep ordering dinners for us. But it’s not going to change her mind and you need to know that.”
“Is there anything I can do to get her back?” I ask, sounding every bit as pathetic as I feel. “I’d literally do anything.”
“Can you design a time machine and go back and not be a total douche canoe?” she asks, planting one hand on her hip.
“If I could, believe me, I’d drop everything and start working on it.”
She stares at me for a minute, then says, “You look like a steaming pile of crap.”
Nodding, I say, “I feel like it. I haven’t been sleeping.”
Her face softens. “So, you really are broken up over Aimée. I thought you’d have moved on by now.”
“I don’t think I can. She was it for me,” I say, forcing myself to lay my soul bare to this woman who clearly can’t stand me. “I’ve never adored someone the way I do her. Not even close. I’m a pathetic mess. I lie awake all night thinking of the things I should have done differently, and there are just so many of them. I know it’s too late to fix it. I was beyond stupid.”
“Yeah, you were,” Teisha offers.
Cindy pokes her head in the door and says, “Noel, Jack and I need to see you.”
I nod, then push off the counter and start for the hall. “Listen, Teisha, if there’s ever anything she needs, I’ll be there for her. Anything at all. I just want her to be happy, even if I can’t be part of that.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Aimée
“Well, shit,” I hear Teisha mutter as she walks into the apartment while stuffing her phone into her pocket.
“Bad news?” I ask, immediately wondering what happened at the Fitzwilliam lunch today.
“Nah, everything’s okay. Listen”—she drops her purse and kicks off her shoes before joining me in the living room—”Noel is really sorry. Like really, really sorry.”
“Are you suggesting I take him back? After what he did to me?” I can’t believe she’s saying that. I forget all about the invoice I was itemizing and shut my laptop, inwardly preparing myself for a big, BIG argument.
“I’m saying that the two of you owe it to each other to meet up and talk. That’s all. If it’s nothing more than closure, then fine. But having just seen him, I can tell you that man is not getting over you. Maybe ever.”
I snort and roll my eyes. “Pu-lease. Deception is his thing, T. Whatever he told you is a lie.”
“It wasn’t so much what he said, but how he looked—like he hasn’t slept in weeks. Maybe he drew on big dark circles under his eyes, but I highly doubt it,” she says. “Plus, Byron told me he’s been sleeping at his office since you left because he can’t stand to go home. It’s too lonely for him now.”
I throw my head back in evil laughter. “Come on! You can’t take Byron’s word for it. He’s his brother’s little puppet. He’ll say whatever Noel orders him to.”
Shrugging, T says, “For what it’s worth, I believe him.”
Biting my lip, I can’t help but consider her words. Nope. Just no. “Seriously, T, you cannot take his side in this.”
“I’m not, but as your bestie, I think you deserve to know that I’m not entirely sure you’re making the right decision here. You were really frigging happy with Noel. That’s a fact. And other than him messing things up before you started dating, he treated you like gold. He was the perfect boyfriend.”
>
“Do me a favor and don’t remind me. This is hard enough as it is without you second-guessing me!” I raise my voice, feeling tears prick my eyes. “It’s over. We’re through, so just leave it alone already.”
She folds her arms across her chest. “If it’s really over, then act like it because all this moping around the apartment you’ve been doing is driving me insane.”
“You said you understood,” I accuse while my chin sinks down toward my breastbone and my hands ball up into fists. It’s not like I’m going to punch my best friend, it just that when I feel like I’m being attacked, I curl up like a turtle retreating into its shell.
“I do understand! I understand so much I’m feeling your pain right along with you. It’s just that, Aimes, you’ve reached the point of this thing where you’re prolonging your anguish. If he’s really such a horrible person, you should be glad to be free of him. You should be throwing yourself a big party, not lying in the fetal position watching Titanic on repeat. You gotta shake it off.”
“I’m going dancing with you tomorrow night, what more do you want?” I stand up and march toward my bedroom door.
Before I get there, she answers, “I want you to quit giving away your power. You are letting Noel make you sad when you should be out having fun and enjoying the fact that you’re no longer stuck working for someone else for tips. Your business is taking off in a serious way. But instead of savoring this moment, you’re crying in your tea over a man. You need to snap out of it and start acting like the strong woman you claim to be. Either that, or dig deep and find forgiveness in your heart. The man still loves you.”
“Did he say that?” I turn around and walk toward her. Shaking my head, I say, “No. Don’t tell me.”
“He did say that—and so much more,” Teisha yells, waving a finger at me. “But here’s the thing. I’m not going to tell you what he said because he should be telling you, and you should be letting him. So, you have two choices, buck up already, or have the courage to put this thing to bed the right way.”
I’m so mad right now I could spit nails. The girlfriend code clearly states that the person who has had the breakup is the one who gets to decide how best to mourn that breakup. I’m not even a month into this. And yes, while I know we were only together for three weeks, they were three perfect weeks. They were bliss. Actually, better than bliss, they were euphoric. He really was the perfect boyfriend—attentive, fun, sweet, thoughtful, respectful. He cheered for me on my good days and rubbed my shoulders when I was tired. That’s why I’m not bouncing back. You can’t fall out of love quicker than you fall into it. If anything, it’s harder to fall out of love because you have all of those beautiful memories of when life was wonderful. You know what you’re missing.
“I’m going for a walk,” I tell T before grabbing my jean jacket and heading to the door.
“Good. You need to blow some of the stink off you, girl. Feel the sunshine on your face … embrace your inner …” Slam!
I don’t know where I’m going right now, but I need to get away. I don’t need anyone telling me how to handle my pain, certainly not someone who isn’t woman enough to go after the guy she’s been making eyes at forever. She’ll let a man scrub her feet and groom her nails, but she won’t do anything else. The hypocrisy! Telling me how to live my life when she’s the mayor of Avoidance Land. That’s it. I’m going to The Finger to talk to Kwon.
I stride down the street with such purpose I almost knock over a man I’m guessing is either a professional prize fighter or a hitman for the mob. “Chill, sister,” he tells me. “Slow it down.”
I stop walking and turn on him with enough mad that I’m pretty sure I could take him in two rounds. He rightly looks alarmed and hurries away. Do not mess with me, people! I am not in the mood!
As I walk into The Finger, Kwon calls out, “Hello, Aimée, friend of queen.” He doesn’t really think T is named Queen Latifah, does he?
“Hey, Kwon. Do you have time to give me a pedicure?”
“Yeah, yeah.” He points to an empty massage chair. “You sit.”
I roll up my pant legs and put my feet in the tub while the hot soapy water pours in around me. As soon as Kwon sits down, I ask, “What’s the deal with you and Teisha?”
“Ah queen, she good customer.” He starts to take my nail polish off without offering anything else.
“She’s been coming in here for what, two or three years?” I ask.
“Two-year, eight months.” He starts to file my hoofs down with a righteous pumice stone. I sit back and let him.
Once he rinses and dries my feet and starts to massage my legs, I ask, “Why haven’t you ever asked Teisha out on a date?”
He looks up at me from the top of his eyes and says, “She never go out with me.”
“How do you know if you don’t ask her?” I practically yell.
“She beautiful woman.” He stops massaging and pantomimes, “Tall, nice body. She no go out with man like me.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Kwon. You must realize that no woman needs as many pedicures as Teisha gets. She comes in here because she’s hoping something might happen.” In my mind I’m thinking, how do you like that, T? I can interfere in your love life, too!
He goes back to my massage.
“But you want to go out with her, yes?”
He slowly nods his head but doesn’t make eye contact.
“Okay,” I tell him. “Teisha and I are going dancing tomorrow night. I think you should show up at the club and ask her to dance.” I pull out my purse and write down the name and address of where we’re going. “Meet us there at ten o’clock tomorrow night.”
Kwon takes the paper and slips it into his pocket without indicating one way or the other if he’s going to show. He finishes the rest of my pedicure in near-silence, which actually works for me because I want to go back to stewing about what T said to me about lacking the courage to face Noel. Even though I secretly think she might be right, I will never admit to it.
I don’t see Teisha for the rest of the afternoon. I think she beat it out of the apartment because she doesn’t want another scene. And believe me, after talking to Kwon and getting the same vibe off him that she gives—pathetic fawning with a side of unrequited love—I could give her a scene to end all scenes.
I don’t know what time she comes home, but she’s gone for work before I wake up the next day. My sleep cycle is totally screwy since Noel and I broke up. I lie awake all night thinking about him, wishing that he had been straight with me. I don’t actually fall asleep until the muscles in my eyelids can’t take it anymore and finally give in.
I wake up at two when my phone pings with a text from my bossy, bossy friend.
T: Be ready to leave at nine tonight. I don’t care if you’re still mad at me, we’re going dancing!
Oh, she’s got that right. We are definitely going dancing and she’s going to face the music with Kwon, once and for all.
Teisha doesn’t come home until seven. I don’t ask where she’s been all day. In fact, the first thing I say to her is, “Wear your purple dress,” and that’s twenty minutes before we leave.
“What’s wrong with this dress?” she snaps at me while staring down at her red slip dress.
“You look like royalty in the purple one. You should look like a queen tonight.” My tone is significantly softer when I say that.
T comes over to me and wraps me in her arms. “Tough love is still love,” she tells me.
I hug her back, glad that we’re not fighting any more. “Remember you said that,” I counter, before pulling back and finishing putting on my earrings.
We head out the door to HaDa moments later and at long last, the air between us is finally light again.
The club is loud and crowded. There are flashing lights and a steady bass is booming through the ether like a heartbeat. I couldn’t describe the décor of this place if my life depended
on it, but the feeling is one of pure freedom. I pull T out to the dance floor and close my eyes as the rhythmic pulse flows through me.
I’m dancing and twirling and spinning. I’m no longer me, I’m an extension of the music. At some point, I lose T and when I search the dance floor, I spot her dirty dancing with Kwon. I give them the double thumbs up and get back into my own groove. I feel like I’m finally exorcizing some demons and I don’t want to stop until I know I’ve succeeded. After I leave the dance floor, I turn around and try to locate Teisha. That’s when I see him. Not the him that I love—that’s right, I haven’t fallen out of love with Noel yet. I lock eyes with his twin brother.
Byron waves to me from a table near the bar. I’m at a crossroads, do I suck it up and let him apologize— his transgressions were smaller than Noel’s after all—or do I walk away and pretend he doesn’t exist either?
When I approach him, he stands and opens his arms to me.
“Are you stalking me?” I demand, ignoring his obvious bid for a hug.
“I told you about this place.” He sits back down, indicating that I should join him.
I do. “What are you doing here?” I want to know.
“I was supposed to meet my boyfriend, but he canceled.” I’m not sure I believe him. He continues, “Aimée Tompkins, you temperamental little minx, I miss you. I know you’re furious with Noel, but I have never lied to you.”
“Lies of omission are still lies, Byron.” I pull his drink over and take a large sip out of it.
He nods his head. “Be that as it may, I miss my fruit fly and I want her back.”
“How can I be friends with the man whose brother broke my heart?” I demand.
“One day at a time, darling. I promise to never mention Noel, as long as you promise to do the same.”
My heart has known too much loss in the last few weeks. I’m vulnerable and sad, and I really do need my Byron fix.
“Okay,” I tell him. Then I throw my arms around him as a tear falls onto his shoulder.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Text Me On Tuesday: All is Fair in Love and Texting ... (An Accidentally in Love Story Book 1) Page 18