With a smirk, I quip, “I don’t do relationships.”
Eyeing me, she sets her glass down and raises her hand. “That’s so yesterday. What is the real reason you don’t have some woman waiting for you at home? You cook, you listen, you’re like every girl’s fantasy.”
“Fantasy I’m not. And honestly, I haven’t found the right woman yet.”
“No long-lost love? Some tragic story about a girl who did you wrong and turned you away from relationships?”
Shaking my head, I say, “No. Work, work, and more work. It’s about all the time I have outside of taking care of my little brother.”
“You have a little brother?”
I pick up my glass of white wine, wishing for beer, but she didn’t have any. “He’s almost out of high school, and if he can keep on track, on his way to college.”
“Wow, high school. I guess I should have asked you how old you are.”
“Twenty-four, you?”
“Twenty-five, soon to be twenty-six. I guess that makes me the older woman.”
“Older and wiser.”
“Age is just a number,” she says, holding up her glass for a toast.
I opt for a change in subject.
“How’s Cate?”
“You remembered?” she asks.
“I did.”
“She’s good, I think. D.C. suits her well, which sucks because I totally miss her. It’s kind of hard not having her close. We grew up together like sisters. We even went to college together.”
“Have you told her yet?”
“About what?”
“Your boyfriend.”
Her eyes darken, and her face almost sours. In that moment, I want to know what’s going on in that pretty head of hers.
“I haven’t. And I told you why.”
“You did, but you say she’s your bestie. Don’t you think she’ll be happy you’re happy?”
Polishing off her wine, she takes a while before answering.
“There was never any doubt that she would be happy for me. Hell, she’d jump up and down with me if I wanted. It’s just that I don’t want to remind her of all she’s lost. She’s finally able to get out of bed without crying. Last thing I want is for her to hear my news and think about being without him again.”
“So, things are that good with you and your guy you worry about her knowing?”
Normally, I don’t fish into other people’s business. But I find myself in the position of wanting this woman, one I can’t have. I need to find out how far off limits she really is.
“They’re good.” She shrugs again, and it’s almost as if her words are rehearsed, practiced. “He’s good to me. He’s sweet, kind. He checks off all the boxes, you know?”
“Actually, I didn’t know there were boxes.”
“Well,” she holds up her hand and starts counting off with her fingers, “he comes from a good family, went to the right schools, has a bright future. You know, the boxes that would make him a good husband in the future.”
I nod, though something about what she’s said doesn’t seem like they should come from her lips. I thought she was different.
“If someone doesn’t hit those boxes, they can’t make a good husband?”
All of a sudden, she seems to shake off something. She blinks and then shakes her head as if confused about what she just said.
“No, absolutely not. Those are the boxes my mother has drilled in my head since the first day I told her I had a crush on a boy.”
“You’re dating someone for your mother.”
“No… not exactly. He’s a good guy who’s not around much. But that’s fine. When he’s here, he gives me all his attention.”
“That’s why he isn’t here with you tonight. Does his job take him out of town?”
“Yeah, he sort of lives here part-time and there part-time.”
“You’re doing the long-distance thing?”
“I guess.” She’s speaking, but she’s in her head, too, if the distant look in her eyes is any indicator.
“Whatever works,” I say, confused because she seems to be.
“It works. It was better when Cate was here. I had time for her, you know. Now with her gone, it’s lonely.”
Her eyes land on mine. In them, I know that if I reach over and kiss her, she’ll let me. I lick my lips instead.
“I should clean up and get out of here. I have an early start tomorrow,” I say, needing to get out of Dodge before I do something crazy like kiss her and get kicked out.
She tosses her napkin down because she has cloth napkins, which says rich girl, too rich for my blood. What the hell am I doing? She’s unavailable. And even if she weren’t, our lives are so different.
“No way am I letting you clean up. But you can stay. We can watch a movie,” she suggests.
Her eyes shimmer. In them, I see the vulnerability of the strong woman before me. She wouldn’t have asked, yet she has. I recognize the look. My mother has given me that look many times over the years.
I should leave for both our sakes, yet I hear myself speaking other words. “Sure, why not, as long as I get to pick.”
“Fine by me. What do you want to watch?”
“The Avengers.”
I’d heard a lot about it and hadn’t gotten the chance to see it when it was in the theatres.
“The Avengers it is.”
Finding a comfortable spot on her sofa takes a few awkward moments. We arrange ourselves several inches apart. I stretch my arm behind the sofa, and her head is practically in my hand. As the movie plays and we laugh our asses off, the space between us starts to evaporate.
I don’t think either of us notices how she ends up curled beside me with her head on my shoulder. It’s when the credits roll that I notice she’s fallen asleep.
Many things run through my head as I scoop her up into my arms. My luck, I find her room under door number one. I lay her on top of her bed and use the throw from the sofa to cover her. I check behind the other doors to confirm I’ve put her in the right room, and I have. Then I clean up the kitchen and leave her a note to bring her car by in the morning for a routine check-up.
As I walk out the door, I wonder if I’m setting myself up to fall for a woman who will never be mine.
Five
Jenna
Several weeks have passed, and I’ve been seeing Brandon here and there. We’re supposed to meet tonight for a quick dinner, but I have to pass because I’m going to be at work late again. As I’m running through my notes for an upcoming meeting with my boss, my office door bursts open, and a tall blonde rushes in, claiming she needs to speak to me and it’s an emergency. Oh, boy. Here we go again.
“He doesn’t want to commit,” Karen whines. She’s an attorney who works in the same building as I do.
“But, Karen, you all have only dated for what? A couple of months?” I ask.
“Six. And that’s not what I’m talking about. He won’t commit to anything—lunch, dinner, a walk in the park, even a stupid trip to the grocery store.”
I guess I’m the love counselor now. “Have you discussed this with him?”
She shoots me a withering glance. “Of course, I have. And do you know what happens? I find myself suddenly naked, in his bed, and his mouth … though he’s not as good as your brother.”
My eyes dart to the ceiling, floor, my shoes, the window, anything to get the sound of her voice out of my head. There is no fucking way I can listen to tales of my brother’s prowess in the bedroom. Ick to the triple max. I la-di-da to myself until she shuts up.
“Jenna? Are you listening to me?”
“I was. Until you got to the part about my brother. That’s just gross, Karen.” I glare at her. “How many times do I have to tell you?”
“Oh, right. Though I think your brother just ran scared. I think he just doesn’t want to admit his feelings for me.”
“He’s dating someone else. Anyway, I don’t want to talk about it. It’s awk
ward enough.” I’m beginning to think fixing them up was a mistake.
Evvie, one of my co-workers, pokes her head into my office and says, “The big guy is chomping at the bit for your numbers, Jenna.”
“Thanks, Evvie. I’ll be right there.”
After she’s gone, Karen asks with a sneer, “Don’t your people ever knock?” This is an unpleasant side of her she’s not shown to me before. Note to file: ask Ben about nasty Karen.
“Karen, Evvie isn’t my people. She’s a co-worker, and she just did me a favor. I need to get back to work.”
“Whatever. Anyway, your brother really needs to get his shit straight over that friend of his that died.”
What?
“Pump those brakes, girl. He went through a really tough time.”
“Yeah, but the past is the past. Besides that, he refused to go with me to visit my aunt who’s sick with cancer. How rude is that?”
Okay, I’m ready to bitch slap this chick. “It’s not rude. He can’t deal. I think it’s best if you leave now. I have work to do.”
“Right. Me, too.”
She swings her hips double time as she leaves. Jeez, what the hell was I thinking? Ben needs to get rid of her.
As the sales and marketing manager in charge of banquets at Charleston Spaces, it’s my job to report our upcoming events in our weekly meeting. My presentation goes well. We handle all kinds of events from corporate functions to weddings and anniversary parties to garden club luncheons. After the meeting, I ask my boss for a five-minute discussion, where once again, I beg for some help. He doesn’t think we need it. When I tell him things will start slipping through the cracks because we are taking on more work than we can handle, he slaps me on the back, and I nearly fly across the room. “You can handle it, Jenna. It’s why I hired you.”
Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I’m not talented enough to be in two places at one time. That’s what I want to tell him, but I chicken out. I also want to bash him upside the head and call him an asshole, but I chicken out on that one, too.
Later that night, I call Cate. It’s been a few days since I’ve spoken to her. After a couple of rings, she answers, and I scream, “Catie Bear! How’s my girl?”
“Deaf. How’re you?”
“Ugh, you don’t want to know.”
“What?” she yells.
“I said, you don’t want to know,” and I yell it really loud. When I hear her giggling, I know something’s up. “Have you been drinking?”
“Not tonight.”
“Okay. That infers that you were drinking last night. Tell me about it.”
She explains that a group from her office went to this bar, and they even sang karaoke.
“Oh, my. You did drink a lot.”
“Not as much as Mandy. We finished up this job we were working on, and everyone was celebrating.”
“Cate, this is awesome. This is exactly what you need. But I do have an issue with it.”
“What?” Her voice has gotten super serious.
“You’ve traded me in for a new bestie. I’m jealous.” I hold in my laugh.
“Aww, Jenna. You know I’ll never trade you in. You’re like that old beater truck my grandpa used to have.”
“What? An old beater truck?”
She giggles like a crazy woman. “Yeah, it was so old, any key would start it. That’s you, Jenna. Any key can crank you up.”
“Oh, my God. You make me sound like a hooker.”
“Yes! You’re my hooker, and you’re a looker. But when he tooker, he couldn’t fucker!” she raps out a tune.
It’s so bad I have to laugh. “Oh, my God. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were drunk. Don’t give up that accounting job. You suck as a rapper. I see no hip-hop hit in your future.”
“No worries on that. But, yeah, I’m baaaaaad.”
“Now you sound like a goat. Don’t tell me you’ve got a goat in your apartment.”
She snort-laughs. “Oh, hell to the no on that. There’s barely enough room for me in here. A goat wouldn’t fit. Which brings me to this point. When are you coming to visit?”
“I will. I promise.” But I’ve been saying that for the last few months.
“You should. It’s such an awesome city.” Is she trying to convince herself or me?
“Catie Bear, you sound good.”
“Yeah. I’m getting there.”
“I’m gonna jump off of here. And get Louise some action, would you?”
“Um, yeah. Okay.” She snickers, but it almost sounds like she’s keeping something from me. If I had more time, I’d badger her about it until she gives it up.
The week at work is a crazy train, with not much time for any thought of social activities. But on Thursday morning, I get a text from Brandon, asking if I want to join him that day for lunch.
I text him back, letting him know I’m in. When I get to the shop, that chick who works there tells me to wait for him in his office. And I mean she really doesn’t like me. I think she actually growls at me when I walk by. I wonder if she has fangs. I take a seat, and in a few minutes, he joins me.
“Hey,” I say as he walks in.
“Sorry, I couldn’t meet you anywhere. But it’s kind of hard to leave.”
I flap my hand, saying, “Not a problem.”
“I hope you like Tex-Mex. I ordered from this place nearby, which has amazing food. They even make their own tortillas.”
“No way.” I’m already salivating.
“Do you like tamales?” he asks. “Because these are damn good.”
“Yeah, I think so.” He puts one on a plate, along with some other items, and hands it to me. Then he gives me a fork, knife, and napkin. I wait for him as he gets our drinks.
When I bite into the tamale, after peeling the corn husk away, I’m awarded with a mouthwatering bite of deliciousness. “Oh, my, God,” I say with my mouth full. And my mother would slap me upside the head for doing that, too. “This is out of this world.”
Brandon sits back and watches me eat. After a minute, I smack his arm, telling him his food is getting cold.
“Totally worth it watching you eat. You make everything look better.”
“Jeez, maybe I should make one of those hamburger commercials,” I say as a joke.
“You definitely should. Their stock would go through the roof.” He’s serious.
“Brandon, I was kidding.”
“Jenna, I’m not.”
We eye each other, and then cowardly, I focus on my food and continue eating. No use wasting such an incredible meal. And somehow we get on the subject of Cate. I tell him about our phone conversation, and he seems genuinely happy that she’s going out and having fun. And that leads me to my little discussion I had earlier in the week with Karen and what she said about my brother.
“Have you talked to him about it?”
“Um, no. Talking to Ben about the death of his best friend is something I don’t routinely bring up, unless he does. The thing is, his life is on a downward spiral, and I don’t know if talking to him will make it worse or not.”
Brandon rubs his chin and leans forward. “If it were me, I’d want to know.”
“Even if your life was a mess?”
“Especially if my life was a mess.” He checks the time and says, “I’m sorry. We are backed up today. I’ve got to get back to work.”
On an impulse, I say, “Would you like to grab dinner tomorrow night?”
It takes him a second before he answers. “Yeah, sure.”
He smiles and walks me out. Before I leave, I promise to text him the next day. I know it was a bad idea because all day Friday, it’s all I can think about. I screw up several orders for events, and Evvie has to straighten them out. She gives me a difficult time, and she’s not the best person to have on her bad side. By the time Friday ends, I’m ready to kick down the door and get the hell out. Brandon is what I need. He always seems to know exactly what to say to even out the rough seas. He gives
great advice, and I love having him around to bounce my issues off of. I texted him earlier and asked him to meet me at a place downtown called Fanny’s, which is an awesome bar but also serves great food as well.
He’s waiting for me when I arrive. Life always seems to throw a rotten egg at things, because as soon as our drinks are delivered, my phone goes off. I ignore it at first, but when it does it two more times, I answer, thinking it might be an emergency.
“Jenna, where are you?”
“Kenny? I’m out to dinner.”
“Didn’t you get my email?” he asks.
“What email?”
“I’m in Charleston, on my way to your place. I emailed you earlier to let you know.”
“Uh, no. How nice. When will you be there?”
“In about fifteen minutes. Can’t wait to see you.”
“Oh. Well, I won’t be there for another hour or so. I’ll see you there when I’m done.”
“Fine. Take your time,” comes his response.
Regret etches Brandon’s eyes, along with things that go unnamed. “I’m sorry about that,” I tell him.
“About what?”
“That was Kenneth,” I say. His lips purse. “He’s in town.”
“And he wants to see you?”
I nod. “But we can finish dinner.”
He stands to leave, but I say, “Wait, don’t go.”
“No, I don’t have much of an appetite. And it’s probably best this way.” He tosses some bills onto the table before he’s out the door, leaving me to feel like a total shit.
Not bothering to eat my dinner either, I grab my things and go home to wait on Kenneth. Rubbing my hands together, I chide myself for being anxious at all. What do I have to be nervous about? I haven’t done anything wrong by going to dinner with Brandon. So why do I feel like I have?
The doorbell rings and I exhale a deep breath. I can do this. Plastering a huge smile on my face, I open the door with great flourish.
“Hey, you,” I say in greeting.
Six feet and dressed in a suit not off the rack, Kenneth is jaw-droppingly handsome. Since we don’t see each other every day, I get a stunned little jolt and stand there stupidly before he walks in with arms extended. Getting out of my stupor, I step into his embrace and enjoy his scent. I hope I don’t sound like a dog sniffing out a bone. He nuzzles the top of my head and says, “God, you’re a sight. I’ve missed you so much.”
One Wrong Choice (A Cruel and Beautiful Book Book 3) Page 4