Chapter Twelve
The next morning started slowly for Mallory. For whatever reason, she struggled to keep her head in the game. A quick stop at Starbucks had gone horribly awry, as she’d been given an Americano for Evelyn when all she really needed in life was a latte for Mallory. Apparently, Starbucks seemed to have a handle on the current state of her life, a mirroring effect that had her intrigued and a little frightened by Starbucks.
“Bam. Big Top art,” Hunter said, sliding a series of mockup ads onto Mallory’s desk. “I am a warrior of all things advertising. Don’t tell me they’re not brilliant, because they are, so you’d be lying.”
Mallory glanced down at the array, and though she’d only had a moment to peruse them, Hunter seemed to have slayed the assignment. The ads were themed out according to various movie genres, and each was paired with a color scheme. They came with edgy slogans too, handed to them by the Big Top Boys, as they’d come to call them.
“Not Your Mom’s Movie Theatre,” Sam read over her shoulder. “I love that these guys are willing to slap that on an advertisement.”
Mallory nodded. “They’re all about in-your-face campaigns, which is probably good experience for us to acquire. Subtlety is not exactly a word in Timmy’s vocabulary.” At the mention of his name, Hunter and Samantha high-fived—it was a new office pastime.
Brooklyn whirled around in her desk chair and faced the group. “So what’s the word on Showplace? Any further talk about a deal between the two accounts?”
“There has been movement,” Mallory told her. “Timmy wants Hope to create a specialty cocktail menu for them, and he plans to credit Showplace as the creators on all versions. In return, he also wants to hold Big Top’s next movie-premiere party for contest winners at Showplace.”
“Is Hope thrilled?” Brooklyn asked. “She should be. This is pretty major.”
“She doesn’t exactly know yet. I tried to discuss it with her, but we were interrupted. Did you guys know she has a twin sister? One who’s apparently in some kind of trouble and moving to Iowa?”
“You just said a lot of things right there. Seriously, a twin?” Hunter asked. “She hasn’t mentioned that, but it’s also not like we’ve had drawn-out discussions about our families either.”
“But here’s the thing,” Mallory said, then remembered herself. “I’m sorry. If you guys have work to do we don’t have to talk about this now.” As if on cue, Hunter perched on the side of Mallory’s desk, Samantha grabbed a chair and sat, and Brooklyn wheeled herself over. All blinked at her expectantly. “Okay, I guess that answers that question.”
“Go on,” Samantha said. “Spill.”
“I feel a bit like things between Hope and me are spiraling.”
“Spiraling can be good.” Brooklyn said. “You spiral her. She spirals you.”
Hunter pointed at Brooklyn. “What she said.”
Mallory shook her head. “You guys should go on tour.” Hunter and Brooklyn high-fived, which she should have seen coming.
“You were saying?” Sam asked, steadying the ship.
“I guess I’m admitting that I’m into Hope much more than I meant to be at this point. It’s still so early between us, and now I feel like I’m spiraling—”
“Out of control,” Samantha said automatically.
Mallory turned to face her, latching onto the sentiment. “Yeah, I guess so.”
Sam took over. “It makes sense. You care about Hope. And that makes you vulnerable to her. Vulnerability takes away a certain amount of control, and we all know that you—”
“Have to be in control,” Hunter deadpanned.
“In order to exist on Earth,” Brooklyn added.
“Or the world will cease to turn,” Sam said.
Mallory stared at them. “Okay, that may be a tad harsh.”
“Mal,” Hunter said. “You choreograph our elevator rides based on who needs to get out first.”
“Yeah, well, it saves time if you’re standing in the right spot and can exit promptly.”
Hunter shook her head. “Just proving my point right now.”
Mallory took a deep breath. “Maybe that’s it, the control thing. I don’t know. What I do know is that she has a tendency to shut me out of certain parts of her life, and while I get it, it also makes me feel wildly—”
“Out of control,” her friends said in unison.
“Yeah…that.”
Hunter looked thoughtful. “So you guys are getting kinda serious then?”
Mallory opened her mouth to respond, but Brooklyn beat her there. “Fantastic sex has been had. Glorious sex. More-than-once-in-a-night sex.”
Mallory stared at Brooklyn, incredulous. “You have no discretion, you know that?”
“I don’t when it comes to sexy stories. Shouldn’t have to.”
“There’s been sex?” Sam asked.
“Yes,” Brooklyn told her. “Sex has been had. And good sex.”
“More. I’m going to need more,” Samantha said, all dreamy-eyed.
“And more you shall have,” Brooklyn told her. “From what I can tell, Hope knows what she’s doing in the bedroom, which can I say, based on how she makes those drinks, has me not at all surprised.”
Mallory stared on in mystification. “Do you even need me here?”
“Of course we do,” Brooklyn said, undeterred. “It was a sleepover date, but Hope had to head into work the next morning, all tired and sexy from their ravenous night.”
“Oh, she was, too,” Mallory said, remembering the visual. “Tired from all the ravenous.”
Hunter nodded her approval. “Ravenous is hot.”
“And then there was an up-against-the-wall good-bye kiss. All passionate and handsy.”
“I love handsy.” Sam sighed. “Handsy is my favorite.”
Mallory balked at Brooklyn. “I never said it was up against a wall.”
“Was it?” Brooklyn asked.
“Yeah, actually, it was.”
“Thank you.” Brooklyn pressed on. “She slid her hand into Mal’s hair and owned her with that kiss. I’m pretty sure Mal owned her right back.”
“I’m gonna need to splash some water on my face,” Samantha said, fanning herself.
“Good call,” Brooklyn said, joining in on the fanning. “Suddenly, I’m intensely interested in planning my honeymoon. In detail.”
As the girls headed off in various directions, Mallory was left right back where she started: uncomfortable with where her heart was headed, as it seemed to have broken up with her head altogether. Which was tragic, as she happened to like her head. She depended on it, counted on it. Without control, without logic, who was she?
Two hours later, Mallory was in the midst of putting together a presentation for Foster Foods when her phone buzzed from where it sat on her desk. She froze when she saw her father’s name on the readout, and a chill moved across her skin at the thought of speaking to him. The photo that stared up at her from her phone was of the two of them last Christmas Eve, laughing near the Christmas tree. How different that photo seemed to her now. Was he sleeping with his assistant then? When had it started? The questions that bubbled in succession propelled her into action, and she answered the damn phone.
“Hi, Dad,” she said as neutrally as possible, keeping her blood pressure even and manageable.
“Hi, kiddo. How’s your week?” It was how he started most calls, with pleasantries that seemed so out of place now it was ridiculous.
“My week’s been fine. What can I do for you?”
“I was hoping we could have lunch. Talk.”
While she wanted nothing more than to hang up the phone and push the issue aside, the hurt that had grown harder and harder to ignore demanded her attention. And that meant she needed answers. Not only that, but she needed to look him in the face and tell him that what he was doing was wrong. “When?”
“I’m in court all next week, but the following Monday is open.”
“Monday it is.
” It was understood that they’d meet at Adolpho’s, half the distance between them, at their standard noon meeting time.
“Great. See you then, sweetheart.”
“Please don’t call me that,” she said, without even fully processing the sentence. It felt wrong now in light of everything, yet saying that to him now felt just as bad.
“Very well. See you Monday.” They said good-bye, and she clicked off the call with a sigh. Why did everything have to be so complicated?
Mallory was used to order, to things leveling out, to calm efficiency. This week had been anything but. First her father was a lying cheat, and then hot sex with Hope, followed by a total freeze-out after the sister drama, and now this lunch with her father. She fell back against her chair and studied the ceiling, because at least that wasn’t falling in around her.
Yet.
*
Hope needed to put things right with Mallory, that much she knew. Kara’s unexpected announcement the night prior had thrown her in a manner she hadn’t been prepared for. In retrospect, it was fantastic news for Kara that she’d found someone who’d be there for her, who she genuinely loved and loved her back. It was even better news that she was getting out of New York City and away from scumbags like Dominic, who would only take her right back to where she’d started.
However, arriving at that point had been a journey, unfortunately a journey Mallory had to watch play out in front of her. Hope had pushed her away in the midst of the emotional roller coaster. And while it had been for only a split second that she caught a glimpse of the hurt in Mallory’s eyes, it had been there.
And hung over her still.
She checked the clock. Mallory would still be at work, but maybe near the end of her day. She fired off a text as she walked from the bar to her office.
We never got that business meeting.
Then she waited, her nerves in overdrive. A few moments later, her phone buzzed.
You are correct. When are you free?
She smiled as she typed.
Now. Come by and be all businessy, please.
It took longer for Mallory to answer this time, which had Hope on edge. But when her phone finally buzzed, relief hit.
You’ve twisted my arm. On my way.
When Mallory knocked on the door to her office fifteen minutes later, she looked…fantastic in another of those incredible business suits. It was as if they’d been manufactured with the sole purpose of making her want to take them off Mallory. This one was maroon and showed the lapels of a gray dress shirt underneath. And there were heels, which affected her on a whole separate level.
“Hey,” Mallory said, and her lips curved into a smile. “How are you?”
Hope detected a hesitation in the way she spoke, which made sense given the last time they’d seen each other. But she wasn’t unfriendly. “I’m doing great. Better now that we get to have this super-important meeting.”
Mallory inclined her head to the side. “Are you making fun of our meeting? It’s a serious meeting.”
“I would never. But it’s possible I called it as just a big excuse to get to see you.”
Something about the way Mallory was looking at her softened and she took the opportunity to move in for a—
“Ah, ah, ah. This is a business meeting, Miss Sanders.”
“Can’t it be many things though? A multifaceted business meeting? I’m just saying let’s think this through.” Hope blinked at Mallory, offering her most innocent eyes.
“Don’t give me that traitorous puppy-dog look.” Mallory shook her head. “Doesn’t work that way, champ.”
She sashayed to the desk, and the subtle back and forth of her hips had Hope captivated. Surely, they could work something out.
“You have the best walk, Spencer. As in, A-plus on the walking.”
Mallory straightened. “I’m detecting a distinct lack of focus.”
“Negative. I’m highly focused.”
“Let’s redirect it to the laptop screen where I have several mockups for you of this month’s promotion. You might remember the Gingersnap Smash.”
“Only vaguely at the moment.”
Mallory pressed on undeterred. “I realize we’re already partway into it, but getting some branding out there is a good idea. Get customers educated about the monthly specials and build buzz around what’s coming next.”
Okay, that part she heard. “I think that’s a wise move. I vote yes.”
Mallory smiled. “That’s because you’re a savvy business owner.”
“Did you just claim me? Is there a Savvy brand on the back of my shoulder?”
“Why? Did you want there to be?” The twinkle in Mallory’s eye told Hope that all was well between them, and God, she wanted it to be. She dropped the flirtatious banter and met Mallory’s eyes. “I’ve missed you,” she said sincerely.
“I saw you yesterday.”
“Still.”
Mallory touched her cheek. “I’ve missed you too. A lot.”
Hope pulled her in and wrapped her arms around Mallory, then held her for a moment. When she released her, Mallory’s arms still circled her neck.
“So what happened yesterday?” Mallory asked. “I felt like you checked out on me after your sister left.”
Hope nodded. “That’s because I did. The thing is, I’m not used to this, to having someone else to consider. I think I might be bad at it.”
“You kind of are.”
“Hey!” Hope said, in mock offense.
“It’s okay. I’m not sure I’m the best at it either.”
“What makes you bad at it?”
Mallory looked skyward as if finding the right words. “I think it’s hard for me to let go, to let myself feel. When I do, it’s like I’m in some sort of free fall without a net.”
“You’re scared of all of this.” Even if Mallory hadn’t nodded, Hope could already see the answer in her eyes.
“What a pair we are,” Mallory said quietly. “You’re closed off and I’m afraid to let go. I’m not sure there’s hope.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m right here.”
Mallory regarded her in mystification. “Did you just say something funny?”
Hope shrugged demurely.
“You did. You were just funny. Hot Bartender from Showplace has actual comedic chops.”
“I like it when you call me Hot Bartender.”
Mallory shook her head, rejecting the notion. “Please. Everyone calls you that.”
“I only like it from you.” Hope leaned in for a kiss and was met with a soft finger to her lips instead.
“Business meeting, remember?”
Hope sighed. “I do. You have a lot of rules, Park Avenue, and sometimes I think they exist just to torture me.”
“They give me a framework from which to operate.” Mallory disentangled herself from Hope and pointed at the screen. “So which one do you like best?”
Hope stared at the options and what she saw was pretty awesome. “These are great, Mallory.”
“You really like them?”
“I love them,” she said, marveling.
Mallory blew out a breath. “For whatever reason, I was more nervous about showing you these mock-ups than I can remember being with a client in years.”
“Really? It’s only me,” Hope said.
“It’s stupid, isn’t it? But I desperately want you to think we do good work, and I’m never nervous when it comes to business. Never.”
“Well, I more than like them and know without a doubt that you guys do excellent work.” She gestured to the poster in the center of the screen. “I’m drawn to this one most. The color scheme mirrors the colors of the bar.”
Mallory nodded, seemingly happy she’d zeroed in on that particular design. “That one’s Hunter’s favorite as well. We just wanted to provide you with some alternate choices.”
“This one is the definite winner. But is it possible to get the font bigger here?” Ho
pe asked, pointing to the word smash. “So that the word pops out, as if it’s jumping from the page?”
Mallory laughed and typed the note into her phone. “Smash should jump from the page. Got it. Now, let’s talk about Big Top for a moment.”
“Okay, let’s,” Hope said.
“Timmy wants you to consult on their seasonal cocktail menu, and he’s willing to credit the bar. He also wants to hold his next movie-premiere party here late next month.”
Hope couldn’t believe what she was hearing. A complete no-brainer. This sort of relationship was exactly the kind of thing that could make a difference for a business like hers. “Where do I sign?”
Mallory laughed. “I take it that’s a yes. I’ll let Big Top know and we can start scheduling meetings. Anything else we can do for you?”
Hope shook her head in wonder. “You’re kind of amazing, you know that? I can’t believe you didn’t lead with that news.”
“Well, I didn’t want to barrage you. Objectify, sure. Barrage, no.” Mallory winked, closed the laptop, and placed it in her bag. “I’ll let Hunter know about your choice so she can finalize the artwork and start the printing process. She’ll also begin some social-media push about the promotion. Oh, and the budget allows us to purchase a little print space so I’m perusing different options there.”
“You’re kind of a rock star at this,” Hope told her.
“Aww, you noticed.” Mallory headed for the door.
“Wait. You’re leaving?” This was bad, because she wanted Mallory to stay. Needed her to. Even if all they did was talk a little more. Mallory was like this breath of fresh air that made Hope forget about things like the bar’s financial woes or the fact that her sister was leaving. When she was with Mallory, she could let all of the rest fall away. And here she was, in such close proximity and effortlessly smokin’ at the same time.
“I have to go. More work to do.”
Hope nodded, the emptiness evident. “Okay. I understand.”
Ready or Not Page 21