by Bria Quinlan
“Yup. You know, trying to get everything up and running seems to be two full-time jobs. I think I’m dreaming business plans.” I smiled when she laughed. “I woke up in the middle of last night and had dreamed I’d written my next to-do list. Only when I got up this morning the list said, Call Santa and request more work before Christmas, make green pancakes, and walk backward everywhere once a week to tighten your butt.”
She was laughing at me before I got past Santa.
“So, you made a real to-do list and then came here?”
“That is the real to-do list.”
Jenna shook her head at me and leaned over the table. “Are you going to come have breakfast?”
I glanced over her shoulder to where the others sat chatting and caught Max as he glanced away, that inscrutable look on his face again.
“I thought maybe…no.” I shuffled my pages around trying to stall. Trying not to fall prey to the Jenna Smile. “I mean,” How do you say this? “Aren’t you mad at me?”
“Mad at you?” She sat up, obviously surprised. “Why would I be mad at you?”
“I ruined your game night.”
This time, Jenna laughed so hard I thought Ben was going to come check on her.
“Ruined game night. Oh, that’s rich.” She wiped her eyes and gave me a softer, less threatening smile. “Last month Hailey threw a remote at Dane and gave him a black eye because he wouldn’t stop looking down her shirt. The month before that Dane brought a girlfriend with him who didn’t know the difference between right and left and kept having to stop and ask. He eventually wrote her a little note card and she still couldn’t remember. The month before that the guys ended up in a brawl basically because in Apples to Apples Ben thinks the funny answer is right, Dane thinks the stupidest answer is right, and Max kept getting angry because he thinks the answer closest to the original card is right and they were just messing with him. They broke my favorite yard sale bowl. The month before that—”
“Are you making this up?”
“Even I couldn’t make this up.” Jenna glanced over her shoulder before turning back to me, leaning in, and lowering her voice. “My friends are kind of crazy. I’d like to blame Ben and his friends, but I’m pretty sure mine aren’t any better.”
“I kind of doubt you were being nice to me to up the sanity ratio.”
“Oh, heck no! I just figured you’d fit right in.”
My eyes fell shut and I pictured it. I pictured fitting in. I pictured game nights and breakfasts and Shakespeare in the Park and holidays and celebrations and life. But the problem was, even as each picture shifted and the players moved, there was one constant. There, next to me, giving me that look halfway between his inscrutable stare and his dimple-blessed smile was Max Darby.
He’d tick me off then make sure I lived through another day. Talk about extremes.
I let my gaze drift over to the table again and wondered if I could fit in. With Jenna, yes. With the guys and Hailey, maybe. But with Max…I didn’t know.
It was like he wanted to keep his distance and still be the boss of me.
“Come on.” She reached down and started shuffling my papers together. “You have to eat breakfast anyway. You might as well come over and put up with us.”
I glanced back over at the group, wondering if they had seen my Situations like Max had, they’d be keeping their guard up with me, too.
Jenna stopped, and set my stuff down. “I mean, you don’t have to. If we’re a little much for you, I totally get it.” She let out a little awkward laugh, her eyes dropping to the side. “We’re a little much for me sometimes, too.”
It took me a minute to realize it wasn’t me.
For years whenever something went wrong, Jason would sweetly take the time to explain why something hadn’t been the best idea or how maybe I might not want to word things a certain way. He’d do it about work, too. He’d hear a story about work and assume I’d handled it in the worst possible way. He’d give me advice—lectures—about why I needed to be more patient and more influencing.
I’d once brought my yearly review home to show him how my boss had called me one of the most patient managers he’d ever had. How I was excellent at reading people and situations.
It did no good.
When we fought, Jason always let me know he forgave me. Even when he admitted he might have read me wrong…apparently the closest thing to it was my fault he could get.
I stood there, in the warmth of the coffee shop, realizing again that since I’d been a grad student basically off the bus from Ohio, Jason had been molding me into what he wanted and I’d lost more than my identity. I’d lost my ability to see my value and the weight of my own actions.
“Kasey?”
I snapped back to today, reminding myself I wasn’t there any more. Reminding myself that if I didn’t want to be that girl now, I was the only one who could control that.
I was the boss of me. I took ownership of my actions. I was not valued by who was standing next to me.
I glanced over to the group again, all of them relaxed back into their overstuffed chairs with their sweet breakfast drinks and knew I wanted to be part of that. Max shifted, his gaze colliding against mine and his brows drawing down just a bit in the middle.
“Sure. Of course, I’d love to join you guys.” I packed up my stuff and followed her over, feeling a little embarrassed by the fact that they’d caught me trying to not hang out with them now that I knew I was welcome.
“Hey, trying to escape us, huh?” Dane stood and took my bag, placing it on the floor next to the empty chair. “What can I grab you?”
“Oh, no. Don’t worry. I can get it.” The last thing I needed was to feel obligated to him for buying me a drink…which I know how 1987 that sounded.
“It’s no problem. You were a great sport last night. The least you can do now is let a guy buy you a drink.”
He said it so smoothly I was betting that’s how he usually handled his pickups at a bar, too. And who was I to ignore the charm that is Dane?
“Well, since you put it that way.” I gave him my order and he swaggered—I mean, sashayed—off to hook me up. I’m not going to lie, I watched him go. The guy knew he was absurdly good-looking and used it to his advantage. We ladies might as well get the advantage of watching him so it evened out a little.
Next to me, someone cleared his throat. When I say someone I mean, Max.
“Yes?”
“Just making sure your neck wasn’t stuck.”
“Nope. Just making sure he gets the drink order right.” I gave him a sticky sweet smile which he managed to scowl at.
“Sure. Right.” He brought his mug to his lips and shifted his focus back to the café as a whole.
The group chatted about upcoming events and work and dates. I slowly began to pick up on their inside jokes and felt a few I could even laugh at after the night before.
“So, Kasey, how’s the new company going?” Hailey leaned forward to chat with me around Dane. Instead of leaning back to give her space, he started playing with her hair where it fell over his leg.
I wondered if they were an item. Some type of weird off-and-on thing maybe. That would so never be me. I wouldn’t be some guy’s hookup no matter how hot he was. My gaze darted back up to Dane again as I rethought that. Maybe…
No.
Nope.
Not gonna happen.
I mean, besides the fact that he was Dane.
“Not bad.” I refocused. Ignore the pretty boy. Ignore him. I glanced the other way. Ignore the scowling boy, too. “Besides Jenna’s rebranding, I have two other small gigs. Unfortunately, one is a time suck for how big it actually is.”
“What is it?”
“I’m creating branded packages for weddings for a planner. She wants to have a couple of pre-created packages that are just for her clients. So, save the dates, invites, event websites, etcetera. Each can be slightly customized by things like color, but mostly they’d all be t
he same. She likes the idea that even though they’re all the same, no one else has them.”
“That’s actually pretty cool.”
“And extremely exciting, right?” I tried not to snort. I wasn’t exactly in happy wedding mode, so it had been an odd request. But I’d worked with Mae years ago when she did event planning for Brockman and she said she’d always liked the work I’d done. She hadn’t even been on my contact list, but had heard about my new business through the grapevine and wanted to grab me while I was still available, desperate, and affordable.
Here’s hoping that didn’t last long.
“Still, it sounds like she’s letting you be creative.” Hailey seemed to be the one of the group who was most creative-focused.
Jenna’s writing came from the fact that in her head her written world was real. It was almost uncreative the way she worked. She was more, as she described it, a transcriptionist of the crazy things her characters were doing.
Hailey, from listening to her last night, liked the process. She also seemed to be more down to earth than Jenna. She’d asked me for ways to do PR without leaving her house. The idea of having her picture taken with person after person or speaking in public or—as she put it—speaking to an empty room, were not on her favorites list. She just wanted to write her stories.
After she and Dane had wandered into the living room last night while Jenna and Ben finished up in the kitchen, Hailey had immediately chatted me up, asking me what I do and if I liked it. She even invited me to the gym saying she’d found a trainer who worked her just hard enough before sending her off to do yoga.
Gym. Work. Yoga.
Not three words in my standard vocabulary, but she promised to make them go easy on me and that she had a guest pass for a free week, so I knew that I was sucked in.
She was a hard woman to say no to.
As breakfast broke up, I started unpacking my work, noticing I was the only person stupid enough to be working on a gorgeous Sunday. I guess if I had a Ben or a Dane I wouldn’t be working today either.
Everyone stood, hovering around and making plans for the next week when Max turned to look down at me, that crease between his eyes growing as he stood there.
“What?” I glanced down at my shirt, ninety percent sure he was staring at the mess I’d probably dropped all over me, eating that incredibly good, but ridiculously crumbly coffee cake muffin Dane had gotten me.
“That movie is playing tonight.”
I rushed through all the conversations this morning. The group was famous for talking over one another, jumping between three different conversations, and basically being able to read each other’s minds with a glance. I didn’t remember a movie being talked about though.
“What movie?”
“The French film.”
French film? French film? We’d talked about a French film?
“You know. The one about the Riviera we talked about last night?”
Oh. That film. The moment when I’d been stupid by trying to pretend I was more interesting than I was.
“Really?” Where exactly was he going with this?
He stood over me, watching everyone else leave, lifted his hand to Dane as he paused at the door and then turned back to me.
“So, I’m going to see it and thought maybe you’d like to come, too.” He stood watching me stare blankly at him, the crease between his eyes getting deeper. “You know, just to hang out and see if you like it. I know you’re adjusting to all this new stuff. Thought you might want to take a break.”
Oh. A pity hang out.
And yet, this was exactly the type of thing I wanted to try. I’d lived in this city for years and hadn’t done most of the things that attracted me to it in the first place. I’d come here to try new things, experience all a city had to offer. But first I’d sunk myself into school, then work, then Jason’s world.
I was sick of thinking about Jason and all the time I’d wasted.
So, yes. I did want to try a new French film.
Even if it meant trying to hang out with Max.
“Sure. What time is it?”
“I’ll come get you around six-thirty.”
Notice that was not an answer to my question or a suggestion.
“Actually, I can just meet you there.”
“We live a block apart.” More eyebrow creasing. “There’s no reason for us to meet there.”
“We do?” Okay, not the point. “But I have things to do, places to be, people to convince to buy my services. I won’t be sitting around waiting for le film.” Or however you’d say that in French. “So, it would be easier for me to meet you there.”
Max stood, his arms crossed against his chest before he finally nodded. “Okay. I’ll meet you there.”
He shook his head and headed toward the door.
Um, bye?
“You’re going out on a date with Max!”
You know, after a week you’d think I’d be used to Jenna and her anti-segue conversations. Just start in the middle at high-excitement and go.
“No. Not a date. We’re just catching a movie.”
“Together.”
“Yes.”
“At night.”
“I’m sorry, did dates get limited to evening hours? No one notified me.”
“Just you and Max.”
“Did you want to come?” That actually sounded like a great idea. She could translate his different glares for me.
“On your date? Pfft. No thank you.”
“It’s not a date.”
“Sure.”
Wait. Wait just a second.
“How did you know we were going to the movies if you’re not coming?”
“Ben called Max to see if he wanted to go for a run and he said he was going to some film I can’t pronounce.”
I bit my tongue. I didn’t want to add to Jenna’s excitement, but I definitely wanted to know if Max had invited Ben and Jenna and they just passed on coming. Maybe he’d invited everyone but I was the only person stupid enough to claim I loved foreign films without having actually seen one.
In retrospect, that was kind of snotty. I was just trying to get him to leave me alone and to point out how different we were, but with so little Max Knowledge, I’d grabbed at straws. Apparently, the wrong ones.
“Okay. You don’t have to come, but I’m looking forward to it.”
“Because of Max.” She sounded so darn smug part of me was happy to correct her.
“No. Because I’m looking forward to the movie. It’s going to be really good.”
I hoped.
“Yeah. Sure.” In the background I heard something. “Oops. No worries. It was just a glass.”
A muffled sound came over the phone before Jenna shouted. “I am wearing shoes. Just like we agreed. Shoes in the kitchen.”
“Ben makes you wear shoes in the kitchen?”
That was absurd and controlling and completely not like the man I’d thought Ben was. Maybe the entire world of men were bossy and I definitely was glad to know that right away.
“Oh, no. Of course not. I just agreed that I would wear shoes in the kitchen because he kept rushing in and picking me up and cutting his feet when I break things. This way he doesn’t have to worry.”
Okay, when put like that it was disgustingly cute.
“Anyway,” Jenna continued as she picked up broken glass with me listening to the occasional ouch. “You and Max.”
“Jenna, really. There’s no me and Max. First, because I just got out of what I hadn’t even realized was a horrible relationship. Two, because this is Kasey-time. I’m going to do my own thing, build my company, and enjoy the city. And lastly, because I’m sure Max and I would make a horrible couple. We have nothing in common and he’s exactly the type of guy I’m not looking for.”
“I know, right? Who in their right mind would want a hot, kind, smart, funny, law-enforcing hunk?”
“Does anyone still say hunk?”
“You know wh
at I mean, Kasey Lane. Max is great. You’d be really lucky to date him.”
Oh, crud. Now I’d insulted one of her best friends.
“You know what I mean, Jenna. Not every great guy is the right guy for you.”
There was a deep sigh on the other side of the phone and I waited for the verdict.
“Ben told me to stay out of it, but I just would love to see you happy.”
How could you not love that?
“I am happy. I hadn’t realized how unhappy I was, but this is the happiest I’ve been since college. I’m excited about my new business. I love my new apartment. I’m really happy about the new friends I’ve been making. I’m just…I’m just not looking right now. I need to stay focused and a guy would take away from that.”
“Okay. I guess I can see that.” She sighed again. “But, call me after your movie. If it isn’t too late that is.”
The girl was hopeless.
19
I stared into my recently filled closet, wondering what one wore to a foreign film at a small, independent movie theater. It sounded so hipster. I definitely lacked hipster clothing. And, I hadn’t been shopping for normal clothes because my check from the consignment store hadn’t come in yet.
I’d made a deal with myself that I wouldn’t buy anything new until my old clothes paid for it. I’d been excited when the girl had oohhh’d over my suits. One thing Jason had drilled home to me that I actually agreed with was to save your money and buy good clothing for the office. Marketing was such a judgmental group. If you didn’t look the part, then they believed you couldn’t make other people look their part.
On the upside, I wouldn’t miss having my nails done every week. I’d always thought that was a waste of money and I only liked color on my toes. Of course, I wasn’t giving up my highlights.
None of this helped me pick out an outfit for the movie though.
Not that this was a date. It wasn’t. But I wanted to look nice and dress right for the occasion. This wasn’t for Max. I didn’t want to be that girl who people looked at and thought, “What’s he doing with her?”
Not that he’d be with me. But other people didn’t know that. They’d think we were together. Like on a date. Or maybe a couple already. No, there’s no way we’d give off couple vibes. So, basically I just needed to wear something that let me blend in with where I was going, what I was doing, and who I’d be with. That meant—