They took a swig, both grimacing. It went down strong and rich and burning. When Evie could breathe again, she cleared her throat and raised her glass again. “And to finally watching Stargate SG-1 in person,”
They clinked glasses and drank again. The after-burn from the whiskey made her words come out in a throaty croak, “I’m Daniel.”
“You can’t be Daniel,” Andy teased, elbowing her in the ribs, “you’re a girl. You have to be Carter.”
“Whatever! It’s my DVD,” she retaliated, with a jibe of her own to his chest, “I can be whoever I want to be.”
“Fine.” Andy groused, with a roll of his eyes, “then I’m Jack. But next episode, we trade.”
“No way! He’s mine!” she argued, as the show's intro played.
They watched their favourite show while savouring the whiskey and slowly crunching their way through a bag of cheese-flavoured puffs that left their tongues and fingers orange. They giggled and poked one another as they exchanged witty banter and their own dialogue, funny voices included. Once it was over, no one said anything as the next episode started, and time began to slip past without any heed.
Evie had no thought for work the next morning, for Thistle, or for anyone else. All that mattered was the hilarity of the moment, the laughing, the joking, and the corny one-liners. It had been a long time since she had given up the reins that held her life so firmly in check and just lived for the here and now. That thought had always come across as juvenile or irresponsible before. Now, however, it was fun, as she enjoyed the sound of her own voice echoing off the cement walls alongside her best friend.
The whiskey left her mellow and exceptionally insouciant. The amber-coloured liquid left her tongue and lips tingling as her world melted into a warm fuzzy snuggle.
The computer whirred still somewhere beyond them, the intro music playing in an endless loop now that the episodes on the DVD had been exhausted. The redhead yawned and stretched, arching her back as she reached as far as she could with her toes to relieve the pressure on her backside from the hard cement deck beneath them. Andy rolled towards her, slowly coming into focus above her, as his hand covered her yawning mouth.
“None of that now,” he chastened, as she swatted his hand away. It fell into her mussed hair, and through her dulled senses, she thought she could feel his fingers gently moving against her temple and scalp.
“I’ll yawn if I want to,” Evie chided.
Her protest only made Andy smile, his green eyes crinkling as he looked down at her. His hair had come loose from the tie, soft waves of it falling forward against his cheeks, and her fingers uncurled, reaching out to touch them. He gave a huff of laughter, shaking his head like a border collie until his hair was free of her fingers. When he stopped, she darted her hand back to pull the tie out.
“Ow!” he yelped, as the blond beach waves tumbled down around his face.
The grimace lasted only a second, and when his eyes opened again, Evie finally saw her best friend. “There you are,” the words came out of her, soft and surreal, as her eyes mapped every inch of him that was in focus.
“Here I am,” he replied, with a smirk, “Not a fan of the man-bun?”
“I have nothing against it personally,” she replied, tucking a lock of his hair back behind his ear so she could see more of his face, “it’s just…not you. Not how I know you. It’s that Andrew Miller, that suit-wearing business guy.”
“Are you saying you want me to take my shirt off?” he joked.
When Evie laughed, he flicked his eyebrows and gave a comical lick of his lips that left his chin wet. “I know that’s what you’re thinking.”
“You’re weird,”
“Good-weird?” Andy quested as she felt his fingers stroking the hair back from her forehead again.
“Yes.” She said. Her next words came out more forlorn and whimsical, “We only know a small part of one another.”
“The best part,” Andy reinforced.
“Mm-hmm,” she hummed musingly, as her hands left his hair to wrap around his neck, drawing him closer.
15
Evie felt herself loosed from the possession of deep sleep, finding herself floating in that mid-space between waking and slumbering. She felt weightless and as muddled as the mint leaves at the bottom of a Rockstar Roy’s mojitos. Evie drifted there, at peace, her entire body free of stress and responsibility and ambition. Conscious thoughts slowly began to drift into her foggy brain, half-formed and vague, their urgency ignored as she relished in the quietness of this in-between state of being. It was like floating in water, her hearing muffled, her body pushed by the whims of the current.
That was until something grabbed her leg.
There was the frightening sensation of being dragged beneath the tension of the surface. That last gulp of air before the whoosh and silence—before she sprang upright, arms flailing, and lungs gasping. The fear was met with a blinding ache, deep and resonate. It drilled its way free of her brain cavity, as her eyes opened to the piercing light of early morning.
Evie could feel a groan rumble out of her throat, as her hand came up to the head.
She felt the tug on her leg again. Evie felt someone padding up her blanketed legs before she managed to get her eyes open. A broad toothy grin taunted her. “Wakey-wakey, sleepyhead.”
Evie groaned again, annoyed with Serena’s brightness. It contrasted with her agitation and headache. The redhead tossed herself back down, her head thankfully finding a pillow. The night before began to filter back, bits and pieces at a time, some incoherent and others lucid. The episodes, the whiskey, the blanket fort, the jokes…Andy.
The redhead groaned a third time, as she remembered the night's colossal blunder—her neck arching upwards, her mouth meeting with soft, warm lips—before he pulled away. The girl had been strangely emotionless about everything the night before, and now it seemed she paid for that temporary liberation in spades. All the feelings rushed over her, her mind helplessly falling into a fathomless pit, as sand crashed in over her, heavy and suffocating.
Serena positioned herself next to Evie.
“What?”
Serena giggled, as she gestured at the makeshift canopy above their heads. “Is this a blanket fort?”
“Yeah. So?”
The petite girl looked down at her flatmate, her smile a little too pleasant. She raised her high arching brows even higher, looking down her nose, as she inquired, “Can you please confirm for me who it ‘tis that is currently in our kitchen, servin’ breakfast?”
“Ummm,” the girl felt her mind falter, hampered by the ache of her hangover and the wordiness of the question. All she managed was, “In the kitchen…?”
“Isna that yer internet boyfriend?” she clarified, looking back through the patio doors in the direction of the small kitchen.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Evie chided, pressing the pillow against the throbbing of her cranium.
“Och, aye right. He’s not, is he?” Serena shot back, her humour shifting from jovial to condescending.
“Yes, it’s Andy,” the girl confirmed, gratingly. The heavy-handed grip of the hangover she was now feeling left her agitated and annoyed. “Why? Does it matter?”
“Och, no,” her flatmate answered, “who ya sleep with under a blanket fort is of no consequence to me, but…” there was a pause, before she succinctly finished, “Connie might think otherwise.”
“Wha—?” the redhead bolted upright again, the pillow flying off of her, “Is he here?”
“No,” Serena responded, her voice sweet but clipped, as she clarified, “but Becca is, and she tells me that your internet boyfriend just so happens to also be the investor interested in Thistle.”
Evie found it hard to follow where this meandering conversation was going—or was it more of a lecture? Her hand returned to her forehead, a small comfort given the ache that throbbed between her temples and reverberated at the base of her skull. She knew that Serena had a point and that she was obviously
missing it.
“How is it, Evie, that you have come ta first sleep with your boss…and then turn round and sleep with his investor?”
The remark was scathing in its bluntness. It hit Evie like the shock of ice water, making her squawk in surprise. Hastening to defend herself, she quickly objected, “I didn’t sleep with him!”
Serena’s mouth, usually so kind and affable, twisted at the corner. The menace of a threat peaking through, as she lifted the empty bottle of whiskey. She waggled it in front of Evie, convincing evidence given the redhead’s first night in Scotland.
“Would ya remember…even if ya had?” Serena inquired, her voice dark with cynicism.
I didn’t sleep with, Andy, Evie protested to herself, as she dredged through the dim memories of the night before, fearing perhaps that the drink had carried her assurance away, did I? I would remember something like that. I know I would!
The redhead moved methodically through the events leading up to the end of the evening. She could recall the munchies, the toasting, the jokes and candour, and then, as she dug deeper, she remembered how she had draped her hand around his neck, drawing his body closer to hers. There was a wisp of a tingle that danced over the girl’s lips before her teeth gnashed down nearly hard enough to draw blood. Evie had wanted to kiss Andy, every fibre of her body primed with the need. Andy had leaned in, she had felt his blond curls fall against her cheeks, could recount the way his breath tickled her cheeks. He had wanted to kiss her too, she had felt the tension in his neck coiling down his spine before he denied her.
“I did not sleep with Andy,” she asserted as she gently took the whiskey bottle from Serena.
Serena shrugged and heaved a heavy sigh. Her small hand came up to her face, a finger scratching at her eyebrow as she guiltily confessed, “I shouldna really care. It’s none of my business…” she hesitated before finding the words, “but this frame line means a lot to Becca. She’s been looking to land a big project like this, get her name out there and get recognized. Seeing this deal go through is important for her.”
Evie nodded her head in agreement, understanding the larger picture beyond herself and the conflicting emotions that filled her like a shaken beer cask ready to explode. It wasn’t just about her and Connie anymore. “It must have come as a shock to you to find him here this morning,” Evie said, making to apologize for bringing Andy over unannounced. “I should have asked…or at the very least, let you know.”
“At least he’s makin’ himself useful.” Serena chuckled, “The guests are eatin’ him up and his scrambled eggs in there. All gobsmacked by his pretty eyes and bouncin’ waves, not to mention his accent. They think we all sound so ‘neat.’” She used air quotes to place emphasis on the last word.
Quieter, Serena asked, “What about you? Did you know he was comin’?”
“Good gravy, no!” Evie laughed, with a shake of her head. She gave a short snort as she amended, “I thought he was a surf-crazed Aussie who couldn’t hold down a job.”
“Yer sayin’ ya didnae know anythin’?”
Evie pressed her lips in a tight line and shook her head. “Not a thing.”
“So, you walk into the meeting and Bam! There’s your internet bloke?”
Evie nodded.
“He shows up, unannounced, out of the blue…” Serena asked, even more skeptical, “and ya didnae sleep with him?”
Evie nodded again, but it hurt to do so. She certainly had wanted to kiss him. She wasn’t sure what else her body had been thinking. It hurt too much to consider.
“Well, kudos to you, Red,” Serena snapped, as she gestured at the kitchen, “because that boy is much better lookin’ in person. But you should keep it that way. Better to not overcomplicate an already fucked up situation.”
“Right,” Evie agreed, the verbal affirmation even worse than shaking her head had been a moment before, thanks to her Whiskey hangover. She laughed off the surprising pain it caused, and reinforced lamely, “We’re just friends.”
The door to the deck slid open, as Becca shot out, “Don’t you open the store today, Evie?”
“What time is it?!”
“That time.”
◆◆◆
There was nothing more awkward than running out on someone.
Evie would know. She had already done it once since arriving in Scotland. It felt terrible worse having to do it a second time—and to someone else to boot. Serena, in her infinite wisdom, had failed to mention the time until everything else had been mended.
Probably a wise choice on her part, Evie mused begrudgingly, as she handed a spritely young boy another frame to try on, if she had mentioned the time earlier, she would have never stuck me with her threats.
Evie knew Serena’s demands were not really a threat as they were a plea. Her flatmate was just looking out for her girlfriend’s best interests. Thankfully, Serena had little to worry about, seeing as Evie was not banging their investor.
No way, Evie enforced, as the little boy exclaimed to both his parents about the orange and green frame she had just handed him, I can’t believe I almost kissed him! Gross! It would be like…like kissing one of my brother’s! Or would it? That tantalizing thought seemed to tango at the back of her mind, seducing her wits into believing otherwise. As the idea marched around in her brain, her body began its mutinous reactions, leaving her with tingling lips and an ache in her gut.
That’s not attraction, Evie tried to reason with herself, I’m just hungry. After I’m done this sale, I’ll fix it with a little snack.
The optician went through the motions of ordering the boy’s two pairs, as she tried to switch her brain from Andy to thoughts of delicious snack foods. If I can’t find anything, I will just skip over to the bakery, she reminded herself, nothing like crappy coffee and baked goods to fight a hangover.
The little boy made finishing the sale quickly a bygone thought, as his parents wrestled to keep him still while she tried to measure the distance between his eyes. As Evie tried, again and again, to get the boy to cooperate, a movement behind the parent’s caught her eye.
A dark head poked out around the corner from the staff room doorway. Connie lifted his hands to display a mug and a little paper bag from the bakery. Her snack had arrived! She gave him a tiny acknowledging-nod, as the father maneuvered his son once more on his lap across the desk from her.
The parents were unintentionally making things worse rather than better. The dispensing optician finally asked the boy to stand, and she got the measurement. The parents were excited about the ease with which they had finished getting their four-year-old’s first pairs of glasses, but she could still see that they were itching to get out of the store with him. She processed the payment as quickly as she could, saying goodbye to the energetic little guy, as his parents picked him up and hauled him away.
It was a relief to have a moment free of traffic in the store and Evie left the paperwork for the orders to seek out the raven-headed Scot in the back. She hoped that he would be sticking around for the afternoon to help with sales during Mara’s exams. She had not realized how much she had missed Connie’s help until she was tempted with having him back on-hand once again.
Well, Evie had known how much she missed him. She had just been trying to ignore it.
Nearly at the back room, her progress was halted by the beeping of the front door. For crying out loud, she waspishly thought.
“Andy?!” The sound of her questioningly calling his name, made her cringe with guilt and austerity. She cleared her throat and tried again, with a simple, “Hi.”
Evie had not wanted to run out on her friend that morning. The breakfast he had been making in the kitchen had made her salivate, but she had barely enough time to get dressed, run to work, and get the store open on time. Seeing him now, dredged up all those conflicted thoughts and emotions from earlier. They mixed nauseatingly inside Evie.
“Hey,” he returned, sounding just as lame as she had.
Seeing hi
s awkwardness align with her own, eased the tension. He pressed a paper cup and a warm paper bag from Starbucks into her hands. “I wanted to make sure you had something,”
“Thank you,” she replied, pausing before drawing the cup to her lips, “what did you get me?”
“Oh,” Andy teased jokingly, “I know what you like,”
The smile stretched as Evie took a sampling sip from the cup. Sweet whipped cream met her tongue, along with a small sample of the latte that lay beneath its dollops. Damn! He is good.
They sat at the dispensing table, as she opened the paper bag to find an egg-wrap inside, still warm enough to gladly scarf. Evie didn’t hesitate. Between bites, she managed to ask him, “So…you stopped by to deliver breakfast?”
“I need another excuse to see you? Should we video chat instead?”
“You know what I mean,” Evie reprimanded the Aussie, before taking a swig of the latte and another bite of the wrap. Their familiar bantering made the queasy feeling in her stomach ease.
The blond leaned back in the chair, opening the button on his suit jacket. “I’m actually here because I have a meeting with Connie in a bit.”
Being her mouth was still full and chewing, the redhead arched a curious brow at her friend instead of a question. He interpreted without any effort and gestured at the frame boards behind them. “To see the storefront here, how the frames display, and talk dates and numbers. We have a lot of things to hash out before we can proceed, and I’m on a bit of a time-crunch.”
Evie swallowed her mouthful before, inquiring, “You have to be back down under?”
The Aussie gave a snort of laughter at her corny use of the over-used term, before confirming, “Unfortunately. My flight leaves tomorrow evening, and I have other business meetings here too.”
The redhead nodded her head, stuffing the final bite of the wrap into her mouth. She felt the damp bloop of sauce hitting her chest and groaned. Andy pointed and laughed obnoxiously as she chewed the large morsel, then handed her a napkin. She dabbed at the greasy spot, hoping it wouldn’t stain, while Andy gazed about the dispensary. The redhead swallowed and took another swig of the latte, before wiping her hands with a napkin and standing.
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