by Paige Hill
“What are you saying exactly? He’s going to… kill you?”
“If he finds me, yes. I need to lay low. At least until I figure out how the hell to fix this.”
“Alex, I love you, but this is what happens when you tease a rabid dog. The same damn gang is responsible for Daddy’s death and you joined anyway. What do you think is going to happen to mamá if they kill you too?”
“I don’t need a goddamn lecture, Celeste! I need help! You don’t have a fucking clue why I did what I did.”
“You’re right, I don’t. Because you’ve suddenly become the king of secrecy.” Every word from his mouth further fuels my growing resentment.
“I do not have time to argue about this! Will you help me or not?” His tone comes across more angry than scared.
How can I love someone so much yet hate them just the same?
Exhaling deeply, I mutter, “What do you need?”
“I need you to let Emily stay with you for a little while. I’m terrified to leave her alone. I’m scared they will use her to get to me.”
“Uh… Who?” I ask, scrunching my eyebrows.
“The mother of my unborn child.” Wow. With everything going on, I’d almost forgotten my baby brother is going to be a dad. “You and your guard dog are the safest place she has,” he continues.
“Of course. It’s not her fault you’re a jackass.” I don’t bother explaining the situation with Aiden. I couldn’t if I tried.
He ignores my verbal assault, “We will have her packed tonight and be there first thing in the morning.”
“Okay.”
“And Celeste,” he stops me before I end the call.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
The chime of my doorbell pulls my thoughts back to the present. Worry kept me up all night, refusing to grant me precious sleep. I used to handle stress like a pro, but now? Now I drink Alka Seltzer for dinner.
Gripping my coffee mug like losing it would mean the end of humanity, I gather my patience and traipse toward the door. My old lady slippers slap the wood floor with every step, and I discover I’m actually nervous to meet the mother of my future niece or nephew.
Staring through the peephole, I find Alex standing next to a beautiful tall woman with dark, almost black hair and fair skin.
“You must be Emily,” I say in greeting as I open the door and motion for her to come in.
“Yes, hi.” She gives a small wave, seeming much more nervous than I am and I notice she has a smattering of freckles across her cheeks.
“Come on in and make yourself comfortable. I changed the sheets on the guest bed for you. I know the situation isn’t ideal, but I want you to feel comfortable here.”
Ignoring Alex altogether, I lead her toward the bedroom which will be hers for the foreseeable future. I can’t bring myself to even look at Alex. If I do, I’m terrified of what I might see. Anger spreads like wildfire in my gut, burning me from the inside out.
“Thank you for this. It means a lot.” Emily gives me a small smile.
“Not a problem at all. You’re carrying my niece or nephew in there. What kind of aunt would I be if I didn’t do everything I can to protect them?” I try to keep my voice cheery in an attempt to lighten the mood surrounding this situation. But I fail epically because she bursts into tears.
“Jesus Christ, Celeste. She isn’t here ten minutes and you make her cry.”
“First off, I suggest you just don’t talk to me right now. Second, this is your fault!”
He wisely keeps quiet and I turn my attention to the emotional woman before me and continue, “Em, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“It’s not your fault. I’m just a tad sensitive these days and the stress isn’t helping.”
“Ouch!” Alex yells, jumping away from Furb. “Stupid furball.” He glares at me in annoyance. “I liked cats until Lucifer,” he snaps, looking back at Furb.
“Furb! Be nice.” He has the audacity to meow at me. “Emily, I forgot to introduce our roommate. Meet Furb.”
She looks at him a little uncertain. “Do I need to be worried about him?”
“Nah, Furb is sexist toward men. You guys will get along great. He’s actually not that mean to Alex. Compared to others, anyway.” I smile.
“I really need to get going.”
“I’ll give you guys a minute,” I reply backing down the hallway.
A few moments later, both join me in the kitchen, fresh tears glistening on Emily’s cheek.
“Everything okay?” I direct my question at her.
“As okay as it can be.”
“I know you’re pissed but thank you for this. I’ll be back as soon as I figure out a way out of this mess.”
I choose to nod my head rather than speak again. At this point, there is nothing to say.
Alex crouches next to Emily, placing a gentle kiss on her barely-there stomach before he leaves. It’s a gesture that lasts only seconds, but in that moment, I saw the old Alex. The man I know he can be.
“I’m sorry my brother is a dumbass,” I joke, as she joins me at the kitchen table.
She smiles politely, “He’s a good man. Just has something to prove.”
“What about you? Tell me about yourself. I mean, it’s kind of strange that we are basically roommates now, yet we know nothing about each other,” I quip, winking at her.
“What do you want to know?”
“Where are you from?”
“I’ve lived in Miami my whole life. I was going to the University, well, until I found out I was pregnant. The morning sickness lasted most of the day and I was struggling to concentrate. I thought it would be better if I took a break until after I have the baby. But who knows where we will be at that point.”
Her admission makes me want to pull Alex’s kidneys out of his throat. He’s so full of himself that he’d ruin another person’s life over his stupidity. Despicable.
“I’m sorry you had to drop your classes. Education is important—you’ll figure out a way to make it work. I’m always here if you need anything. Remember that.” I give her a small smile, knowing I will do anything to make sure that baby has a good home. “How did you meet Alex?” I continue, forcing myself not to think of the ways in which I want to torture my brother.
“He used to come into the diner I worked at. I actually think I’ve seen you there a time or two.”
Thinking back, I realize I recognize her, too.
“Oh, my God! I do remember you. You worked at the Corner Café,” I smile, matching hers. “The woman they hired to replace you is awful.”
“I hate that. She did seem a bit… I don’t know what the word is…”
“Twat waffle,” I interject, my voice coming out monotone.
My comment catches her off guard, earning me an adorable pregnant belly laugh. Then she snorts. Fucking snorts.
And it’s glorious.
“Um, yeah that about sums her up. Anyway, he sure was persistent. I turned him down at least a dozen times. He brought me a flower every single day until I agreed to go on a date with him.” She giggles like a love-struck teenager and I have to choke back vomit. It’s cute and all, but love? Love can suck it.
“That sounds about right,” I chuckle.
“Declan and I want to have a small get-together the weekend before Christmas. Would you guys be able to make it?” Teagan looks over her Everything bagel at Emily and me.
“Count me in,” I reply, looking at Emily. “Do you have plans?”
“Um, no. My parents aren’t talking to me right now. I just planned to stay at your house for the holidays. Is that okay?” she asks timidly, like she’s afraid I’m going to say no.
“You can stay as long as you need, Emily.”
“Please come! I promise you’ll have a blast.” Teagan smiles and I know there is no way the shy Emily will deny her.
“Um, okay.” She looks away, diverting attention from herself.
“Anythi
ng I need to bring?” I ask.
“I’ll hunt everyone down on Friday and see who wants to play Secret Santa, other than that, just your sexy self.”
“Of course, I don’t know how to be anything less than sexy,” I over-dramatically toss my hair over my shoulder and wink, knowing I look absolutely ridiculous.
“Bitch,” I hear someone murmur behind me. Turning my head to see who the person is talking to, I see the waitress from the other day, but she’s glaring straight at me.
I really need to find another restaurant.
“What’s her problem?” Teagan asks, arching a brow and looking around me.
All I have to say is one word and she will know exactly what that bitch’s problem is. “Aiden.”
Teagan’s face registers a visible ‘ah ha’ moment before turning to glare at the waitress.
I choose to ignore her and continue eating my breakfast—hashbrowns are nasty when they get cold. That is until I hear “whoops” and suddenly an entire plate of scrambled eggs is dumped in my lap. Looking up, I see a very amused waitress with too many buttons undone on her uniform.
Of course, it was her.
She doesn’t even bother to apologize, and that was the final pin in my cushion.
Standing to shake the eggs from my lap, I smile and boisterously greet her. “Sugartits! I wondered when I was going to see you again. Dancing at the club three nights a week just not paying the bills?”
Without skipping a beat, Emily pops off, “They start cutting hours when you have a visible herpes breakout.”
My God, I love her.
Sugartit’s face grows redder by the second and I can tell she’s about to blow a gasket.
“That’s unfortunate. I’m sure it will clear up real soon.”
Teagan snickers from across the table but tries to hide it.
Sitting back down to finish my breakfast, I take a sip of my coffee. Feeling her eyes on me, I turn to see her fuming, but still silent.
“Sugar, we’ve been over this. You have other customers who need shitty service. Go on, now.” I wave a hand.
That’s when she squeals so loud my ears bleed.
“You—”
“Hey, Sugartits! Can I get my eggs?” A middle-aged man two tables down throws me a teasing wink.
“Ugh! So trashy!” She screams.
“Is there a problem here?” She’s cut off by the manager.
“Hey, Marty.” Emily snags his attention.
“Hey girly, how are you feeling?”
“I’m good, still have some lingering sickness.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Turning his attention to Sugartits, he continues, “Hilary, what seems to be the problem now?”
“This—This person just told the entire place that I strip for a living and have herpes!” She acts appalled.
“She forgot the part where she dumped a plate of eggs in her lap without so much as an apology,” Emily defends.
“My eggs!” The man yells again.
Marty sighs deeply and turns his head to look up at the outdated ceiling. If he’s looking for patience, I doubt he finds it there.
“Will you ladies excuse us? Your meals are on the house.” Turning his attention to man missing his eggs, “My apologies, sir, we will have another plate out as soon as we can. We will comp your meal as well.” Taking a few steps, he shakes the gentleman’s hand.
The man laughs deeply before mumbling, “Free breakfast and a show. This is going to be a great day.”
I’m glad someone thinks so, even though I find it a little humorous that Sugartits follows Marty to the back, sulking like a petulant toddler.
We finish our meals in relative peace and Teagan’s excitement over Christmas is starting to grow on me. I’ve never been big on the holiday, but this year I want to give it a try. There’s enough grumpy in this world, it wouldn’t kill me to put in a little effort to avoid more of it.
Gathering our things, we say our goodbyes. I can’t explain it, but something doesn’t feel right all of a sudden. My unease causes the hair on my arms to rise as I scan the room. It isn’t until my second pass as we exit that I notice the man in the back booth. Dressed in an expensive suit, his dark hair is starting to pepper at the temples. He would be handsome, if it weren’t for the menacing look on his face. Everything about his appearance screams danger and my heart rate kicks into overdrive.
Because he’s staring right at me.
AIDEN
“I have to do what?”
“Don’t be such a Grinch. It’s going to be fun, I promise”
Teagan is trying her damnedest to get me excited about the upcoming Christmas party the girls are throwing, but I don’t get in the holiday ‘spirit’. Apart from exchanging a few gifts, I’ve never really celebrated Christmas. My grandma died when I was little, my grandpa threw himself into his work, and my mom was never sober enough to care about Christmas parties. I’m an only child, so it was always just Dad and me. The whole charade of decorating, shopping, faking happy smiles… It all just seems ludicrous. Most families hate each other anyway, so why force it?
“You know this is Miami, right? It’s like sixty-five degrees on a chilly day. This is where people come to escape holiday cheer.”
“Just draw a damn name. It’s not negotiable.” Her stare dares me to argue, but I know it’s a lost cause. I’m outnumbered, and a pissed off Teagan means a fucking cranky Declan.
Reaching my hand into the bowl, I fish out a name, reluctantly playing this ridiculous game.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” I ask, having never played the game.
“You don’t know how to play Secret Santa?” Her faces pinches in disbelief. “Rich kids,” she mumbles through a teasing smile. “It’s simple. Everyone draws a name but must keep the identity of the person you draw a secret. At the party, you bring a gift for that person.”
Unfolding the small slip of paper, I’m curious to know what poor soul got stuck with me.
But of course, it’s never easy, I think to myself as I stare at Celeste’s name. I swear the slip of paper even taunts me.
Fuck me.
But that’s the problem, now isn’t it?
Chapter Fourteen
Celeste
Well, hell.
I look back at the name I’ve drawn and frown. I’m usually pretty good at picking out gifts, but I realize now I don’t know much about what he likes. Besides Teagan, I think, hiding a smirk.
“Remember not to tell anyone,” Teagan reminds me for the thousandth time.
“Yes, mother.”
“Shut it,” she snaps, throwing her empty water bottle at me.
“You do realize you’re sitting in my chair and I have control of the shears, right?” I threaten, making eye contact with her through the mirror and give the air a couple of snips to accentuate my point.
“You love me too much. But just in case,” she turns to Taylor, “I’m coming to you next time.”
“Don’t you dare cheat on me!” I feign jealousy and pop her in the back of the head with a comb.
“Rude.”
“So is cheating.” I wink at her.
“How is it working out with Emily?” she asks, her tone shifting from playful to concerned.
“So far it’s fine. It’s been only one day, and she likes to keep to herself.”
“She seems like a sweet girl.”
“She is. I just hope Alex doesn’t ruin her.”
She gives me a look of understanding before she changes the subject. “So, what’s going on between you and Briggs?”
“Nothing,” I snap a little too defensively. “He thought he was being nice and paid Mamá’s hospital bill, but I’m paying him back. I had coffee with him the other morning to say thank you. That’s all. Besides, he did it for your sake. I’m pretty sure he hates me.”
“Just throwing this out there, but I’ve never seen Briggs do something that kind for a woman he knows personally.”
“Wha
t does that mean exactly?”
“It means he’s an asshole who refuses to get close to women. He will do whatever is necessary keep them at bay and convince the rest of us he hates all women.” She finds my eyes in the mirror again. “But Celeste, you know how hard I’ve worked to get Fighting for Freedom up and running.”
After everything that happened with Teagan’s dead husband, she walked away with quite a bit of money. She came out on the other side a changed woman. In doing so, she decided to take that money and invest in creating an organization that helps women get a fighting chance in life. Leaving an abusive spouse, providing security if they feel unsafe, getting them off drugs, literally anything one needs to get back on their feet.
“Of course,” I state, confused.
“Even with Mark’s money, I don’t have enough capital.” She pauses, “Celeste, Briggs has signed on as an anonymous partner. He’s funding my project baby. A man that supposedly hates women is not going to give one an obscene amount of money to support others.”
She has a point.
“Wow. That’s… generous. But, still, the line between love and hate is thin.”
I spend the rest of my shift in a daze, annoyed that the giant contradiction known as Aiden has taken up my much-needed brain space.
Every time I think I figure out one facet of his personality, something new surfaces and smashes the precious gem into pieces.
I finish her trim and, after saying goodbye, I head to the back. I haven’t been paying enough attention to the business side of the shop.
I spend the next several hours going over payroll, paying bills, and wondering if I need to hire another stylist. Business has been steadily increasing and, as great as that is, I still want our current customers to feel special. When my customers come in, they need to feel like they are the most important person in the room. Our job is more than hair and nails. Clients spill their lives to us—love, loss, excitement, all of it. When someone leaves this shop, they should do so feeling purged of negativity and full of confidence. That knowledge is what keeps me going.
Looking at my business account one last time, I make a decision. My crew work their asses off to make my dream a reality; the least I can do is show my gratitude.