by Emily Childs
I admit I like when Bastien shows a drop of concern for my feelings. I have one sister to talk to, he has a hoard of people he’ll need to let down. I ought to be asking him how he’s handling this. “Everything I said was a perfectly lukewarm comfort level.”
“Okay,” he says, his shoulders relax. “Good.”
I bite my bottom lip, wishing I didn’t because Bastien’s eyes drop to my mouth, and that leads me to look at his.
“Well, better go.” I hurry and open the door, but trip on the first step. Thankfully the door is there to grab. Bastien is on his feet, as though he planned to cross the room inhumanely fast to catch me. Clearing my throat, I straighten my shirt, and like my Irish-Bostonian mother used to say, I mutter, “Latah gatah.”
Later. Gator? And with my accent. Am I three?
I blink rapidly, heat bursting through every pore on my body as I try to scurry away. I’m horridly nervous, and nerves bring out the weirdo inside.
But before I get too far, I hear Bastien say, “In a while crocodile.”
I almost fall again. This time because I start laughing. A deep belly laugh I’d forgotten was in there, a sound I’ve not freed since the day my mother died.
Well done, Bastien. Well done.
Chapter 9
Brita: Soooo . . . I just got off the phone with Oscar.
Axel: Good job Brit. We all knew, with enough practice, you could master the phone call.
Brita: Sorry, that sent before I was done. Ax, are you just sitting around waiting to supply the group texts with witty comebacks? Took you thirty seconds, bud.
Jonas: Yeah. Some of us work.
Axel: I’m at work right now, and having a super intimate lunch with my sexy wife. She’s wearing scrubs in case anyone wants to know. There isn’t anything hotter. Do you ever see your wife anymore, fancy-pants attorney?
Jonas: How has the hospital not fired you two for lewdness yet?
Elle:
Brita: Wait, this isn’t all the kids’ group, right?
Elle: Nope, just us four so we can gossip about Oscar and Bastien.
Brita: Good. Does no one want to know about my call?
Jonas: What if I already know? Because I SEE MY WIFE.
Axel: Don’t text-yell, Joe. It’s beneath you. Elle is about to go pass out pills, so hurry and tell us all about your magical phone call, Brit.
Brita: Bastien is dating Nicole’s sister!
Brita: Hello? No. You did not go off break after I drop that bomb.
Axel: Processing.
Elle: You guys should see his face.
Jonas: Brita Olsen! You didn’t tell me that. You said Oscar called about pictures before the ceremony.
Brita: Babe, love of my life, he did. But he also added this little nugget. I’m avoiding a competition with you and Ax. Better if you find out together.
Axel: Bastien? As in our little brother?
Elle: I’m literally almost crying. It’s about time that guy got back out there.
Brita: Oscar said it’s very, very new. This is directly pointed at the older brothers: Do. Not. Tease. Him.
Jonas: Hey, what would ever make you think that? I thought you knew me better.
Brita:
Axel: Really? He’s really dating someone? A someone who’ll be at the wedding?
Brita: Elle, did I break Axel?
Elle: Um . . . he’s gone quiet. He’s staring.
Brita: Oh, no. You know CPR. Stand by.
Axel: Ha, ha. I wouldn’t tease him. I might joke a lot, but I wouldn’t cross that line. But there might be a problem.
Brita: Ax! Don’t leave it there. What?
Axel: Remember how Bass planned to come to the wedding with someone else, oh, about seven months ago?
Brita: She-who-shall-not-be-named, yes.
Jonas: She’s reading Harry Potter again.
Axel: #dork. Anyway, Former Date figured she was still invited and RSVP’d to Inez yesterday. They told me when Aggie came for therapy. Weird how this is happening all at once.
Jonas: Really? Pretty ballsy of her to show up. She wants to face Mom?
Elle: Or wants to string Bass along! Ew, I’m all flustered.
Axel: She probably thinks we don’t know the truth.
Brita: I’m hyperventilating. Bastien is finally stepping out of his shell, and she’s coming? Should we warn him?
Jonas: I don’t think we should. He might get weird again. Maybe she won’t show.
Elle: I’m back on the floor, but standing here like an idiot. You’re joking that she’s coming right?
Axel: Wish I was, babe. Right when he’s ready to date someone else, Amy is coming back for the first time since she wrecked him.
Chapter 10
Laney
This is the third time Nicole has applied lip gloss. Meeting Oscar for their regularly scheduled Thursday night dates, the only weeknight she has her number two manning the Bean. But I think I might’ve broken my sister.
“Nicole . . .” My voice is low, unsteady.
She glides the pale pink color in methodic strokes over her full lips, body stiff. I wait patiently when at long last, she closes the lid and returns her makeup kit underneath the sink, leans against the countertop, and faces me. “Something is weird.”
“What?”
She looks at me in the mirror. “Since when, Lane? Since when have you ever wanted to date Bastien?”
“I thought you’d be happy.”
“Oh, I would be, if you weren’t acting so strangely. Bastien is the salt of the earth. A truly decent guy. The sort I’d love for you to be with.”
I almost roll my eyes. True, he’s been nicer this week, but I still remember how he treated Amy. I’m not sure all the details, but she told me he stepped out of their relationship. Decent guys don’t cheat on their years-long girlfriends.
Nicole abandons her lipstick and spins around. She leans against the bathroom counter, arms crossed. “How did it start? I want details.”
“It’s starting . . . now. We had coffee in the breakroom.” Not a lie. Bastien and I have had many coffee breaks in the breakroom at the same time. “And then he invited me to the game this Sunday. I said yes.”
“Do you like him?” If my sister didn’t love her café, she would do well as an interrogator. She has a knack for watching you until you feel like you’re squirming out of your skin.
“Sure. We’re getting to know each other . . . better.”
“See, that’s where I’m confused. You’ve known Bastien longer than me.”
“True.”
“So?”
I throw my hands up and slouch on the toilet seat. “What do you want me to say? I didn’t get to know him personally when we first met. He was with my roommate, remember?”
“Yeah, but he’s also been single for the better part of a year, and your boss for six months.”
“Should I cancel my date on Sunday to appease your awkwardness about it? We didn’t want any of this to come out before the wedding; Bastien doesn’t want us distracting from you guys,” I say in a huff.
Nicole grins. “Don’t cancel. I’m just surprised, Lane. A good surprised, but still, it sort of came out of nowhere.”
I don’t say anything, simply shrug like I’m a moody teenager again.
Nicole abandons the bathroom, talking over her shoulder as she heads toward her front door. I slink behind her, dragging my feet. Already, bags of Oscar’s things are lining the spaces of her bungalow. We haven’t lived together for years, but it’s still strange to think Nicole’s new roommate will be her husband in a few weeks.
“You’re going to fall for him,” she says as she tugs on her ankle boots. “I predict sooner than you think.”
“I’m not going to fall for Bastien.” At least I don’t think so. I hold my breath. “It’s a football game. This is why I didn’t wan
t to say anything. I don’t want you to be disappointed if nothing happens.”
Nicole flips her hair from underneath her jacket and snatches her keys from a bowl on a small table. “I’m not entirely hopeless. I get that sometimes relationships go nowhere. But I still stand by what I said, and it’ll be fun to see if I’m right.” She opens her front door. “Hang out as long as you want.”
“Um, I’m leaving in case you two decide to come back here. No thanks.”
Nicole mewls seductively. “Hmm, now I have ideas.”
“Ugh, just go eat with your fiancé.”
My sister is smiling now, but she pauses halfway out the door. “Laney, I hope you two give each other a chance. I know it’s weird since he’s your boss, but he’s always looked at you differently. Besides, he was the one who told Oscar to make sure you had a job at Everett. I think he’s liked you for a bit.”
“Wait, Bastien told Oscar about the opening?”
Nicole nods with a smile tugging at her mouth. “Yep. He called him and said: Make sure Nicole’s sister applies. Everett would be perfect for her. I think he spun it like you’d have tons of opportunity.”
My mouth drops. Opportunity? Yet, he’s keeping me as his assistant. Unless he’s not. I didn’t even read the letter of recommendation. Maybe I was too afraid that it might be mediocre, point out flaws, and be the complete opposite of a recommendation.
“Gotta go. See you tomorrow.” She squeals. “Final fitting day! Can you believe it?”
“You two are what dreams are made of. See you tomorrow,” I mutter.
When she leaves, I plop onto her couch, absorbing the quiet of the house. Bastien wanted me to work at Everett. Why? He didn’t owe me anything. Honestly, I wasn’t sure he even remembered me. My last year of college, Bastien had already graduated with his masters and left campus. I never saw him. I guess between his connection with Amy and with Oscar marrying Nicole, I was thrown in his face more than I remember. Still, I can’t think of a time where our interactions warranted a personal call to Oscar, making sure I applied to Everett.
My stomach rumbles. Everything feels like a storm brewing inside. There are sweet characteristics of Bastien that draw me to him like a magnet. Leading me mindlessly down a road of wanting to know him, to draw out a real laugh, to cut through his aloofness and make his ears tint red. But then I remember the bad parts. If he wanted me so badly to work with him, why is he such a moody jerk sometimes? He does all this work, helping me find a job, while making me feel like I need to walk on eggshells around him.
The conflicting pieces of Bastien Olsen make me want to spend more time with him, if only to figure him out.
Weird.
One thing I know, is we need to talk about what’s coming. I feel like every day is a surprise, and on this, I don’t like surprises. A clear line needs to be drawn. Pulling out my phone, I shoot him a text.
Laney: Can you meet at the Bean?
I don’t expect a swift reply, but a minute later my phone dings
Bastien: Yeah. When?
Laney: I can be there in ten minutes.
Bastien: I’ll be there in seven.
Laney: Do you always need to be in charge, or need to win?
Bastien: Always, Brooks.
I shake my head, but instead of rolling my eyes or groaning at his arrogance, I laugh. We’ll see who is in charge at the end of this. He wants to play boyfriend and girlfriend, well maybe so do I.
Doesn’t mean I don’t get to have a little fun with him in the process.
***
The Vanilla Bean is busy for a Thursday. People eating platters of fries or deli sandwiches, coffees and tea. Bastien did beat me. I study him for a moment, alone in a booth at the back. He’s in a plain black T-shirt and it tightens nicely over his arms. There are bits of his office life still. He’s got the fancy wristwatch on, and his hair is still styled neatly.
I like the way he looks, and this would be easier if I didn’t.
Crossing the café takes me longer than it should to break through two large groups and plop onto the bench across from him.
Bastien startles, slight enough, I barely notice.
“Hey,” he says and tucks his phone back into his pocket. “I ordered you a pop.”
I tilt my head. “Did you? Maybe I don’t drink soda.”
“Soda pop, and your office persona would beg to differ.”
I rest my chin in my palms. “Wow. Is this what it’s like for you all the time?”
“What?”
“I know everything about you, but it’s sort of thrilling that you know things about me.”
He chuckles and takes a drink of his water. “You don’t know everything about me, Brooks.”
“Enough. I know you are a total snob when it comes to baked goods.”
“Easily explained.”
“True,” I say. “I know you like two sugars in your coffee, no milk. You actually prefer tea during October though, not sure why. But I distinctly remember tea and Halloween. Care to explain?”
His smile is preoccupied. “Simple homage. My grandma died in October. She loved tea. My mom started it, and it stuck with me.”
My heart breaks a little, but in a good way. I like this Bastien. I’m not even afraid to admit it.
“That’s . . . really great.” Venturing into open territory is foreign to me, and I’m not ready to go there, not with him. I clap my hands and laugh wickedly. “Rock music. I know you listen to oldies rock when you think no one is at the office.
“Helps me brainstorm,” he says, smiling at me, but there is more color to his face.
“I know you have a gym membership, and a duffle bag under your desk, so I assume you work out either before or after work.” I grin when Bastien raises his brows. “Tell me when I start to freak you out and get too stalkerish. I know you read non-fiction over fiction, and actually read statistics books. Gross.”
“A book on baseball stats is different than reading equations and algorithms,” he argues.
“Eh. Maybe.” I enjoy the way he’s openly waiting for more. “I know you used to visit home all the time, but don’t anymore.”
Bastien looks at the table, fiddling with the wrapper of his straw.
I lower my voice, stepping into shaky territory. “It’s not because you’re at odds with the family, I don’t think, since your group texts are still holding you hostage.”
“Hostage is a good way to put it,” he agrees. “Seems like you’ve got me pegged.”
“Want me to keep going? I haven’t even touched on car habits or favorite foods.”
“No,” he says softly. “I’m good.”
“Was dredging into home too much?” I ask lightly, but inside I wish I would’ve kept my mouth shut.
“No,” he says. “I haven’t gone home because I’ve just been busy. But I’m not too busy to come here. So, let’s talk about why you wanted to meet.”
He tosses the wadded straw wrapper and it hits me square in the head.
I clear my throat, and my pulse picks up the pace. Be bold. There isn’t any reason we can’t talk about this like mature, reasonable adults. “I wanted to work out a few finer details. I’m talking about doing . . . stuff.” Gah. So much for mature.
“Stuff?”
“I spoke with Nicole, and she likes the idea, but she’s suspicious. As predicted. I mean how do we behave in public? We said we’d be professional at work, but outside of an office couples aren’t really known for shaking hands as greetings, do you get what I mean?”
Bastien nods and rubs his palms together. “You want to know how passionately I’m going to kiss you, right?”
I’m thankful the waitress comes to our table, winking at me since every employee knows me, and hands me my drink. I drink half of it at once. “Not what I meant.”
“Been a long time since I made someone blush.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. You simply painted a wicked weird picture in my head.”
Bastien l
aughs. “Are you nervous?”
“What? No.”
“You start talking Bostonian when you’re nervous. Another thing I know.”
I take off my glasses and rub the bridge of my nose, desperate to say this right. I don’t want to sound eager, but also don’t want to be a prude. “I meant like with our hands.”
“A lot of gray area there, but since you’ve dismissed my passionate kissing idea, I doubt you mean wandering hands. More holding, right?”
“Get your head outta the guttah,” I say intentionally drawing out the accent. I like how it breaks out his real smile he hides behind self-importance. “Yes. Holding. Holding hands. You don’t want to find out what happens if they wander.”
Bastien crosses his arms over his chest. “Okay, I get it. You don’t need to beg, Brooks. I’ll hold your hand. I don’t think you could handle more anyway.”
My mouth drops as the waitress returns and places a plate of chips and salsa in front of us. He’s egging me on, but I told myself I’d make the boss sweat a bit. And I intend to. Slowly, I reach my hand across the table, feathering my fingers across his forearm. Bastien watches me, suspiciously as I lean forward.
“You don’t think I could handle you?” I grin viciously when he swallows as I drag my toes up the back of his leg. He draws in a sharp breath. “Boss, I think it’s the other way around.”
A flash of heat fills his eyes, but he meets my grin with one as sly. “This is a new side of you.”
Kill me. Bastien, tugs on my arm, urging me closer. He dips his chin, and his thumb traces my jaw. I shudder when I feel his breath against my ear. “You want me to get this close, Brooks? Is this convincing you that you’re mine?”
Mine. Has that always been such a hot word? I’ve never thought much on it until this moment.
My stomach jumps to my throat. I sink into him, cursing myself. The way he’s touching my face, my neck, a touch hardly there, but leaves a trail of heat behind.
Touché, sir, touché.
He grunts when my toe changes course and I kick his shin. I slide away from him, wholly annoyed he’s laughing and not a tumbling mess like I am. What was that? If he touches gently when he’s taunting, what does a real touch from Bastien feel like?