by Harper Bliss
As I walk to the ensuite bathroom, which is just a few steps away from where I was sitting, I conclude that I was always too messed up to date the likes of Caitlin James.
I call Bea on the way to the Pink Bean. After our usual greeting, she says, “You sound a bit sad, JoJo.”
“I’m just a little tired, that’s all. Nothing for you to worry about.” I try to reassure her. The last thing I want is my sister to worry about me. For anyone to worry about me. There’s plenty of me to worry about me, I think.
“Is it because you won’t see me for my birthday?” she asks, disregarding my comment.
“Yes. That makes me very sad. But we’ll have an extra long Skype call that day, so you’ll be able to see my face and I’ll be able to see yours.”
“Then I can show you my presents,” she says. “I think I know what I’m going to get.”
While I stand in front of the Pink Bean window, we chat a little more. Today, not even my sister’s voice seems to be able to cheer me up.
Chapter Sixteen
“Still in your party dress, I see,” Micky says as soon as she sees me. “Must have been a good night.”
I have to spend the next four and a half hours with her in a confined space, so I take a deep breath before I reply. I don’t want to snap at her, I’ve done enough of that already and it’s only eight o’clock.
And really, up until fifteen minutes before we went to sleep, it was a perfect night.
“Come on, Jo. Don’t keep us in suspense.” Micky is not one to let something like this go. Never mind that I gave her all the space she so obviously needed when she’d just started dating Robin and she didn’t know which way was up.
Kristin is setting up the chairs around the tables and just as I’m about to say something just to satisfy Micky, Sheryl comes down. Great.
“I need to go in early today,” she says, “any chance of a quick fix before I go?” I could kiss her for detracting attention from me, but I also wish I could get into her car with her and go to the university to hide away in my office. I can’t go home because Eva will be full of questions as well.
“Of course.” I prepare Sheryl’s espresso and take the time to come up with something to say about the date. What will Caitlin say to Sheryl? Will she discount what happened this morning and relay it as a good one?
“Didn’t you have your date with Caitlin last night?” She eyes my dress. “Still in fancy clothes, I see. I know what that means.” She winks as I hand her the coffee. “You spent the night in Darlinghurst.”
I expel a sigh, then say, “Please, everyone listen because I’m only going to say this once. It was a good date and yes, to satisfy your overly curious minds”—I shoot Micky a look—“I did spend the night. But that’s all I’m going to say about it. I don’t want to talk about it any more and I hope you’ll respect my privacy.”
For a split second, Micky looks taken aback, then she says, in the sulking way I’ve heard her teenage daughter use, “Fine.”
“Are you okay?” Sheryl asks. She is the champion of reading between the lines, after all. She figured out I needed to make some more money and got me this job. She rearranged my schedule so I could work at the Pink Bean every weekday morning and had me tell her about Bea only days after I became her TA and wasn’t comfortable talking about that to my boss at all.
“I’m fine. Just, you know, I don’t think there will be any follow-up dates.”
“Come here.” Sheryl waves two fingers at me.
I walk over to the side of the counter.
“Did Caitlin treat you all right? Because if she didn’t, I will have a word with her.”
“It’s nothing like that. She was nothing but gracious. We’re just not very, er, suited for each other, that’s all. Nothing for you to worry about.” I can’t believe I’m actually needing to have this conversation with my boss. “I’ll see you this afternoon.”
“Understood,” Sheryl says. She kisses Kristin on the lips and heads out.
Only two more sets of prying eyes to deal with. I’m not worried about Kristin, who is as discreet and disciplined as they come. Micky, on the other hand, is going to grill me all morning long.
As promised, Caitlin stops by the Pink Bean at her usual time. By then, Micky has made a couple of remarks, but we’ve been blissfully busy and she hasn’t had time to grill me too much.
“Did she pull an Amber on you?” she asked, after Kristin had gone upstairs and it was just us in the shop for a few minutes. “You know, told you it was just a one-night stand when you woke up this morning?”
That’s another thing that confused me about Caitlin. Why would she even ask me to go out again? It can only be because she felt like I was unfinished business to her. A fat girl in need of a boost to her confidence. So she could heroically be the woman who rescues me from my own grim thoughts.
“Do you have time for a quick chat? I’m meeting Zoya here in fifteen minutes,” Caitlin asks after she has ordered her flat white.
“Go on,” Micky urges. “Honestly, Jo, you look like you need that chat.”
I stop myself from asking Micky what the hell she means by that, and join Caitlin at her table by the window.
“I’m sorry you felt the need to leave so abruptly this morning,” Caitlin says. “I must have pushed a very wrong button.”
I look at her. She looks so drop dead gorgeous again. A flash of memory flits through my mind. My finger slipping inside. The noise she made when she came.
“I’m sorry for leaving like that. It wasn’t very mature.” I twirl my coffee cup between my fingers and stare at it intensely, afraid to confront her gaze. “I did have a really nice time, Caitlin. You mustn’t think that I don’t like you. There are just certain things… I don’t know. I’m not ready for, I guess.”
Caitlin purses her lips together. She’s not wearing any lipstick today. “I would so like to ask you to trust me, but I know that’s impossible.”
“Trust you to do what?”
Inside my chest, anger wars with a surge of pure lust I feel just from sitting across from her.
“Trust me to guide you to where you want to be.” She slants her head over the table. “Have you ever really trusted anyone?”
Is this turning into an impromptu counseling session now? “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Don’t answer me now, just think about it. I’d like to take you out again. We don’t have to do the whole restaurant thing. We can just get a takeout and eat it on my balcony. I would like to spend some more time with you, but I know that you’re in a state right now and not very inclined to say yes. That’s fine. That’s why I’m asking you to take some time to think about it. I have time. I’m not going anywhere. Okay?” She looks up.
“Am I interrupting?” I look up and see Zoya. She’s early and clearly not reading the situation well.
Again, I get the feeling that I don’t belong in this chair, talking to Caitlin who is waiting for her newscaster friend. I might not have been perfectly happy before Caitlin started showing up at the Pink Bean, but at least I was content, at peace. I had my job at the university and my job here. It was enough. Look at me now. I’m about to fall to pieces because of Caitlin.
She rises to hug Zoya. It’s just a hug among friends, yet I feel a pang of jealousy burrow its way up my chest. The other, even louder, thought crowding my brain is that Caitlin hugging someone like Zoya makes much more sense than her investing any more time in me. They are two beautiful, successful women, not a mismatched pair like Caitlin and I would make.
“Hi Josephine. Good to see you again.” Zoya turns to Caitlin. “Were you talking about the book proposal? Because I have a few things to say about that as well.”
Caitlin shakes her head. “Haven’t got to that part yet.”
Ah. The book. Probably the real reason why Caitlin is trying to keep me close. The subject didn’t even come up last night. That’s why she wants another date. She hasn’t had a chance to ask m
e what she needs.
“I’ll leave you to it.” I feel ridiculous with my Pink Bean apron over my dress. I always wear jeans at work. The dress only reminds me of last night and makes me feel even more out of place.
“Promise me you’ll think about it.” Caitlin cocks her head.
“Okay,” I say, even though I’ve made up my mind already.
“I know I can be a pain in the ass, but are you sure you’re all right?” Micky asks.
Zoya and Caitlin are still sitting at their table, consumed by an animated conversation that seems to be cause for many eruptions of loud laughter.
Before I can even think about it, I blurt out, “I fucked up with Caitlin last night.”
“How do you mean?” Micky is stacking cups into the dishwasher.
“I really don’t want to talk about it. I know I’m a big old mope today. Tomorrow will be better, I promise.”
“Do you want to come to mine for lunch after our shift? I have a huge batch of leftover mac and cheese.” She straightens her posture.
“I really need to get home. I need to get out of these clothes.”
“Are you sure?”
“I appreciate the offer and I will gladly take a rain check.” I look down at my dress. “All this stupid dress reminds me of is last night. I just want to get back into my regular clothes and routine.”
“Why don’t you go home now. Our shift is almost over and I can handle things until Alyssa comes in. I’ll tell Kristin you were feeling unwell.”
The prospect of being able to leave the Pink Bean—and no longer having to look at Caitlin and be reminded of my inadequacies—is tempting, but I’m not one to leave a shift early.
“You’re not so bad after all.” I shoot Micky a grin. “It’s okay. I’ll stay.”
Chapter Seventeen
It’s Friday afternoon and I’m about to start my lecture when the classroom door opens. Caitlin peeks her head in.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” she says, though she looks more pleased with herself than apologetic. “Is it still okay for me to sit in?”
The students know very well who Caitlin is and most of them just stare at her open-mouthed, while one whoops and Nicole, the most outspoken one, says, “I saved you a seat right here, Miss James.”
“Wonderful,” Caitlin ambles in and sits next to Nicole.
This is just perfect. Not only is it very hard to keep the class’ attention on a Friday afternoon, but now they’ll be even more riled up and eager to start their weekend. But that’s not the worst of it, of course. I love teaching, but having to do so in front of Caitlin, who has seen me naked and at my lowest, is pretty daunting.
“Okay,” I say. “I was saving the debate on the power of television to affect acceptance of sexual diversity for next week. But seeing as we have a special guest, why not take advantage of Miss James’ knowledge and eloquence and discuss this incendiary topic today.” I shoot Caitlin a look that, I hope, will tell her that she can’t just one-up me so easily. I haven’t seen her since yesterday morning and I’m guessing this is her way of spurring me on to make a decision about wanting to go out with her.
While it’s mostly all I’ve been thinking about, I haven’t been able to come up with a good enough reason to do that to myself again. Even though the prospect is tempting, it’s the possibly disastrous aftermath I won’t be able to cope with—again. “What do you think?” I ask.
“Good one,” Nicole shouts and unceremoniously slaps Caitlin on the shoulder.
I repeat the topic and ask them to come up with arguments both supporting and dispelling the theory and then, because Caitlin is in the room, my work is basically done.
I watch her spar with some students and gregariously agree with others and by the time the hour is up, I can only conclude that Caitlin is a natural teacher. She instructs by encouraging questions and by making every single one of the students think for themselves.
When the class finishes, and Nicole and a couple of others are brazen enough to ask Caitlin if she’ll join them for a drink, I’m no longer convinced I’ll say no if Caitlin asks me to go out with her again. Because, yes, she’s beautiful and sexy, but she’s also so much more than that. The way she is with the students, and how calmly she spoke to me last night, and her willingness to give me, with all my hang-ups and uncalled-for spur-of-the-moment reactions, another chance, make her so much more than how scrumptious she looks—and how famous she is.
“How about we have a drink after class next week?” Caitlin says to Nicole and the rest. “Because it looks like I’ll have to come back if I want the real experience of Miss Greenwood’s teaching.”
“What a cop out,” Caitlin says when we’re walking to my office. “It was a smart move on your part to have them do a debate, but I really wanted to see you teach.”
“Think of the students. They loved it.” I stop when we’re a few feet away from my office. I’m not even sure why she’s following me.
“I meant it when I said I would come back next week.”
“I wasn’t expecting you today.”
“Why not? I said I would come. You gave me explicit permission, remember?”
“Well, yes, but…” That was before, I think.
“Besides, I couldn’t make it to the Pink Bean this morning and I’m still waiting for an answer to my question.” She holds up her hands. “Before you say anything, I wanted to ask if you wanted to go the Pink Bean’s open mic night with me tonight. It’s the most non-committal date we could possibly go on. It’s basically a group activity.”
“The open mic?” I had totally forgotten about that.
“Don’t worry. I won’t pressure you to sing. I’ve never been to one and I’m just curious.”
“I have plans. Er, Eva and I are meant to…” As the words leave my mouth, I’m sure Caitlin can easily tell I’m making them up. Eva will be out—or in—with Declan tonight. I had tentatively said yes to Mona’s offer to go for drinks with her and a bunch of other people, but I don’t have any firm commitments. “Okay.” I haven’t been to a Pink Bean open mic night in a while. And it really is more of a group activity. Besides, who am I kidding? After today, I want to spend more time with Caitlin. “I’ll be there.”
“Any chance of grabbing a bite together first?” Caitlin asks.
“I really can’t. I have a lot of work to do before I leave here. The term has only just started and I already have so much paperwork to catch up on.”
“I’ll see you tonight then.” Caitlin lifts two fingers and gives me a quick wave.
Chapter Eighteen
It’s always strange to be at the Pink Bean when I’m not working. I can’t help but look around for cups that need to be cleared and tables that need to be wiped down. It’s a reflex after having worked here for two years. Tonight, I’m looking around even more for things out of place, so that I don’t feel out of place too much myself.
Kristin is still rounding up open mic participants—one of Robin’s colleagues seems very enthusiastic. When I agreed to come, I didn’t know that Micky, Robin, Amber and Martha were going to be here as well. I’m not sure Caitlin knew, but she wasn’t kidding when she said it would be more of a group activity. While I’ve been to two dinner parties with these ladies before, things are different now. I’ve spent time in Caitlin’s bed and I’m sure they all know. I’m sure Micky told Robin and Amber—she’s not one to keep that sort of information to herself. The only person I trust to not go blabbing about something like this immediately is Amber, who looks a bit uptight herself tonight. Maybe it’s Martha’s presence.
I remember her invitation for a private yoga lesson which, in my head, only translated into the prospect of more humiliation. If she asks me about it tonight, I’ll politely decline.
“What do you mean there’s no wine?” Caitlin asks the barista.
“This is a coffee shop,” I say. “We don’t have a license to serve alcohol.”
“Not every Friday night activity needs to
include booze,” Amber says.
“Yeah, we have the arts to lift our spirits,” Micky says, her tone dripping with irony. I get the distinct impression she didn’t really want to be here tonight. Robin probably dragged her here to support her colleague.
“Josephine?” Kristin approaches us. “Are you having a go tonight?”
“What? No.” I shake my head.
“My bad. I thought that was why you were here. You don’t usually attend so I just assumed.”
“Who knows? Maybe some day.” Caitlin puts an arm on my shoulder. If this is a date, it’s a weird one.
“I don’t think so.”
“As you wish.” Kristin heads to another group of women to rustle up more performers.
I never really understood the allure of the open mic, always considered it a platform for arrogant people desperate to show off a skill they usually don’t even master. To be gawked at like that on the carpet that serves as a stage at the Pink Bean. To have a bunch of strangers’ eyes on you while you recite poetry that should, in most cases, be kept private.
“I signed up with Kristin earlier,” Caitlin says. “I used to dabble in poetry. Why not read some of it here tonight?”
“Someone’s missing the spotlight,” Sheryl says. “If you miss standing in front of a room of people so much, you’re very welcome to teach a course of your choosing. Not many people are offered that much leeway, you know.”
“Thanks, but no thanks,” Caitlin says.
“The students loved you this afternoon,” I say, not letting her get away with turning up like that.
“Looks like this conversation isn’t over,” Sheryl says and winks at me.