by Hart, Staci
“I was wondering if you wanted to hit a few when your shift is over.”
When she looked up, that fluttering hope took a dive. Her face fell, her green eyes disappointed.
“I’d love to, but Will is picking me up from work to take me out.”
“Ah,” I said, trying to hang on to my smile and mask my own disappointment. “So, are you guys, like…dating?”
She smiled, a bright, hopeful expression on her small face. “I don’t really know yet. But I’m sorry, can we do it another day?”
“Sure.” My mouth felt like the inside of a shoe in the summertime. “Where’s he taking you?”
The question almost sounded like an accusation, but Annie didn’t seem to notice, just flung herself into her explanation with a love-struck smile on her face.
“It’s a surprise. He wouldn’t tell me anything specific, but when we were texting last night, I got the impression that it’d involve a meal at the very least. That was all I could guess though. He’s got me completely in the dark.”
She was beaming and shining, and I consequently had no idea what else to say, my plans chucked out the window and my speech lying uselessly in the back of my mind.
I swallowed the stone in my throat, anxious to get out of her space so I could sort through my tumbling thoughts.
“Well, I hope you guys have fun. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow—”
“Wait,” she said, her smile fading. “Are you okay?”
“Sure,” I lied.
“Because yesterday—” Her eyes darted behind me. “Will!”
The change to her face was so complete, so crystal clear, there could be no denying her feelings. But the more painful realization was this: the way she looked at him was nothing like the way she looked at me. He was the center of the universe, and I was Pluto, spinning around in the freezing cold on the edge of the solar system.
Annie walked around the register counter, stopping when she reached him like she wasn’t exactly sure how to greet him.
That Motherfucker had no problem showing her.
He stepped into her like the interloper that he was, a bouquet of flowers in one hand, the other winding around her waist as he bent to press a chaste kiss on her cheek, a cheek that flushed eagerly under his touch.
I wondered if that was a first, something she would check off her list, and the thought made me so angry, I worried I might crawl out of my skin right there in the middle of the bookstore. My breath was shallow, chest on fire, but somehow the rest of me was a well-maintained mask of calm.
Will glanced at me, his arm still around Annie. “Brandon,” he said in lieu of a greeting.
“Bailey.” The bite in the word was low, but it was there all the same.
His eyes told me he’d heard it, and he’d heard it loud and clear.
Annie was as oblivious as ever, her eyes on his face with adoration. “Let me just go clock out and grab my things, okay?” She swung by the counter and retrieved the map, folding it back up before extending it to me. “Here, don’t forget this, Greg.”
I waved her off. “Keep it.”
She took the map back with her cheer fading. “All right. Thanks.” Her gaze met Will’s. “I’ll be right back.”
He offered her a winning smile. “I’ll be right here.”
She floated away, leaving us alone.
Will Bailey and I stared each other down for a solid count of five before I turned to leave, unwilling to give him any more of my energy than I had to. And by energy, I meant full and unadulterated rage.
“Do you like her?” he asked my back.
I stopped dead and turned around slow, flattening him with a heavy glare. “Looks like she’s with you.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I don’t owe you anything, especially not an answer. You didn’t deserve my sister, and you don’t deserve Annie either.”
“What’s your problem, Brandon?”
My teeth ground together so hard, my jaw ached. “Don’t ask questions you know the answers to.”
He shook his head. “It’s been a long time since Sarah, and I’m not the same guy I was. Annie’s different—I know you see it too. I’m not going to hurt her.”
“Let me tell you something, Bailey.” My hands fisted, quieting their trembling by force. “If you do, I will end you. Do you hear me?”
His eyes narrowed, but he nodded once.
“Good.” I turned, storming away with thunder at my back.
“But don’t get in my way,” he said from behind me, bringing me to a halt. “If you think it hurts now, just remember—I can make it so much worse.”
I didn’t acknowledge his words with a response, but they sank into my veins with an icy chill that did little to cool the fire in my chest.
Annie was heading toward me, but I didn’t slow down.
“Hey, Cam wanted to see you,” she said as I approached, her coat hanging over her forearms and her brow curious.
“Thanks,” I muttered.
I marched to the back of the store as she called Bye after me.
Once in the back and away from them, I felt better by a small degree. I was even able to stop considering all the ways I could murder Will and the places where I could dump his body. In the office, Rose was sitting in front of her laptop across from Cam, who was kicked back in her rolling chair with her Chucks on the surface of her desk and a lollipop in her mouth.
She smiled around it, the white stick hooked in the corner of her lips. “What’s up, man?”
I relaxed my clamped jaw. “Nothing. You wanted to see me?”
Her smile faded, and Rose turned to look at me. Both of them wore discerning expressions.
“Well,” Cam started, “I was going to ask you if you could send me the bar schedule for next week, but now I’m gonna insist you tell me what’s the matter.”
“Yes, I’ll send you the schedule, and I really don’t want to talk right now.”
One eyebrow rose, and she nodded to a chair next to their desks with authority that brooked no argument.
I rolled my eyes and sighed, dropping into the chair. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
Rose closed her laptop and rested her elbow on her desk. “Is this about Annie?” she asked plainly.
“Well, she’s with that fucking douchebag!” I spouted, flinging a hand back in the direction I’d come from. “I mean, of all the guys in New York, she had to find him.”
Cam moved her feet to the ground and reached into a jar on her desk, her hand reappearing with a purple lollipop, which she extended to me. “Here. You need this.”
I took it, tugging at the cellophane wrapper before popping it into my mouth. It really did make me feel a little better. Or maybe my mouth just needed something to do so it would shut the fuck up already.
Either way, when I spoke again, it was with a little more control. “He’s not a good guy. I know because he dated my sister.”
I told them an abbreviated version of what had happened with Sarah, and their faces grew heavier with every word.
“Okay, I see the problem,” Cam started. “And we all know you’re into Annie.”
“It’s that obvious, huh?”
“Like a blinking neon sign, dude,” Rose said, opening and closing her hands at me like they were in fact blinking lights.
I sighed and closed my lips around the sucker stick, working that candy like I might find answers in the middle. “I had this big, stupid plan to take her out today, but he was here to take her on a fucking date. A date! And now I feel like a fool and a creep and a loser while she’s fawning over that asshole.”
“Are they together?” Rose asked.
“I mean, they’ve known each other for, like, five minutes. They’ve never even been on a date—until today.” I sulked.
Cam nodded. “Then there’s still time. You just need a plan. I don’t think you’re wrong to want to get her away from him. And I’ve seen you two together at work. It’s obvi
ous you guys have chemistry.”
“Cam,” Rose warned.
“What?” she asked innocently. “You even said you saw it too, so don’t act like I’m off base.”
Rose rolled her eyes.
“I’m just saying,” Cam said, turning back to me, “until it’s, like, official, I feel like you’ve got some wiggle room. You could ask her to the historical costume mixer. I know she loves historicals, so I have a feeling she’d be way into it.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “Yeah, I guess, but we’ll both be working.”
“What other ideas do you have?” Cam asked. “You should have seen her talking about your day together. Based on that alone, I’d say you definitely have a shot.”
The thought only made me feel more miserable. “I was thinking about asking Rose for tickets to the ballet. One of Annie’s things on her list is to see a Broadway show.”
Cam lit up. “Oh my God, do it. Take her to the Russian Tea Room and the ballet. Do it. Do it!” She bounced in her seat. “Rose, get him tickets!”
Rose laughed. “I can get you tickets, easy.”
“Don’t you think that’s a little obvious?” I asked.
“Well, why be subtle? It’s romantic, and she’ll feel like a princess,” Cam insisted. “If there’s anything between you, she won’t be able to avoid it after a night like that. Think of it like…like a litmus test.”
I shook my head. “I don’t even know if she’ll agree.”
At that, Cam smiled with mischief on her mind. “Well, you know I’ll help however I can. Need me to create an elaborate ruse? No prob. Well-placed encouragement? Consider it done.”
And just like that, my fluttering hope was back, and my sense of self-preservation was shot. “You think I can honestly make it happen?”
“I know so. Don’t you worry.”
And for a brief, blissful moment, I let myself believe.
Annie
I took Will’s arm and let him usher me out of Wasted Words, but my mind was turned back to Greg.
He was upset, and I was the reason.
If I hadn’t had plans with Will, I would have gone with Greg on the donut scavenger hunt in a heartbeat—not just because I enjoyed spending time with him so much, but because I really wanted to talk to him. I had a million questions for him but no opportunity to ask.
He’d remembered my mention of something in passing, found a way to see it through, and come to work on his day off to deliver it to me. The gesture was considerate and kind, and telling him no hurt—not just because I wanted to go, but because of the look of disappointment on his face.
I wanted to see Greg happy, wanted to make him happy, wanted to give him a million yeses. And I would have, if it hadn’t been for Will. Who was, if I had to guess, the other reason Greg was so upset. He wouldn’t even look me in the eye when I said goodbye.
Judging by the testosterone fumes left lingering in the air, I thought they’d had words again, and I wanted to know what they were. It was no surprise they didn’t get along. I knew Greg was protective, and if Will had hurt his sister, Greg would have defended her with his last breath.
And I was itching to hear the story from Greg. Because what Will had said, especially about Greg hating him for having money, didn’t sound like the Greg I knew at all.
I knew Greg well enough to know that he was solid and loyal and honorable. He wouldn’t lie, and if he had a problem, there was probably just cause.
On really thinking about it, I realized I knew him better than I’d fully admitted. There was a strange connection between us, something latent and natural. It just was. We just were.
It was a reminder of how little control we had over chemistry. When you typically met someone, you found commonality, connections, topics for conversation, but it was some level of work, even if it was enjoyable work. It took effort. But sometimes, we met people we fell into stride with so naturally that the connection required no thought or cultivation; it threw all of your other relationships into shadow by the sheer brilliance of the light.
That was Greg and me—easy and uninhibited, a joining of two streams to make a river.
Which is why he’s such a great friend, I told the part of myself that imagined it could be more than that.
“You okay?” Will asked as he opened the car door.
“I was just thinking about Greg,” I said before climbing in.
Will stiffened, waiting for me to scoot all the way in before getting in behind me. “What about him?”
“Did you fight? He seemed upset.”
Will rolled his shoulder in a shrug. “He doesn’t like me, Annie, and he never will.”
I frowned at the prospect that they’d never get along. “You can’t be civil?”
“I can. I don’t know if he can.”
“I’ll talk to him,” I resolved, the conversation already working in my mind.
He let out a sigh. “I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”
“Psh, I run strictly on hopes.”
That earned me a little bit of a smile.
I changed the subject in the interest of not ruining my first date. “So, where are we going?”
He reached for my hand. “You’ll see. How was your day?”
“Largely uneventful until there at the end,” I teased. “How about you?”
“The worst. I’ve been waiting all day for this.” He smiled, a sweet, genuine curve of his lips.
“Where do you work?”
The smile faltered. “I’m in between things right now.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. College and adulthood,” he said. “I graduated from Yale last year, but I’m not ready to lock into a career. Fortunately, I’m in the unique position to do absolutely nothing for as long as I want.”
I chuckled. “Must be nice.”
“It is. My parents even approve; can you believe that? My dad said he took a few years off to travel and said I should do the same.”
“Well,” I started, “if you’d lived a couple hundred years ago in England, you would have been a gentleman. Like, that would have been your job—to do nothing.”
He shook his head with mock regret. “I always thought I was an old soul.”
I laughed, and he pulled me a little closer until I was leaning into him.
“Speaking of gentlemen in historical England…”
“That’s an unexpected segue.”
“Speaking of,” I continued, “there’s a costume mixer at the bar later this week, and I was wondering what you were doing Friday night.”
One corner of his lips rose. “Are you asking me on a date?”
“I guess I am. That is, unless you’re dead inside and you hate costume parties.”
“I love costume parties, especially costume parties I get to attend with a gorgeous girl on my arm. What’s the theme?”
“Well, it’s historical night—we’re supposed to dress up as half of a fictional historical couple. Guys who wear cravats get five-dollar wells. Otherwise, they won’t dress up.”
A laugh burst out of him. “Yeah, I could see that. So, who do you want to go as? Lizzie and Darcy?”
My mouth popped open in surprise. “You know Pride and Prejudice?”
He shrugged, but he looked mighty proud of himself. “I was a lit major.”
“You took a course on Jane Austen at Yale?”
“I took a class in romance in classical literature. Pride and Prejudice was at the top of the reading list, as was Byron, works from each Brontë sister, Shakespeare’s sonnets—to name a few.”
I stared at him, so blissfully stunned, I couldn’t speak for a moment. “That might be the hottest thing I’ve ever heard a man say.”
He pulled me a little closer. “Oh, but you haven’t even heard the good stuff.”
I laughed to stop myself from sighing and melting into him like warm butter on a biscuit.
“So, no,” I said, trying to get a handle on my brain, “not Lizzie and Darcy—too predi
ctable. I was actually thinking of doing a newer historical. My first thought was to pick one of Julia Quinn’s couples. Have you heard of her?”
“No, I haven’t, but I don’t read much romance.”
“That’s fair, but these aren’t just romances; these are fairy tales. They’re the most satisfying, entertaining stories, books that touch your heart, make you feel, make you want to sing and dance and laugh and cry, all within a few pages,” I said earnestly and with a little too much enthusiasm.
He smiled down at me. “Well then, I’ll have to read one. Which one should I start with?”
“Would you really read one? Really?”
“Of course I will,” he said on a laugh.
“Well,” I said excitedly, “my favorite is Eloise’s book, but—oh! Francesca’s, ugh, it’s so good, and there’s this big, beautiful Scotsman. But maybe…” I thought for a second, assessing his face like I was going to determine what color he would wear best. “You know, I think you should read Anthony’s book. Enemies to lovers,” I said with a waggle of my brows. “I’ll pick one up for you at Wasted Words. We have a billion copies or something.”
“A billion? That’s a lot of books. So, which couple should we go as?”
“Sophie and Benedict,” I answered definitively. “It’s a Cinderella story, and her gown is just beautiful…” I trailed off, my heart sinking. “I don’t know where I might actually get a dress like that.”
“I bet I can find one. My brother’s on Broadway, and he has access to, like, a billion costumes.”
I gaped, slack-jawed again. “He sings on Broadway? Like, the Broadway?”
“The one and only.”
I couldn’t even wrap my head around it. “What’s he in?”
“Right now, he’s in Hamilton.”
“You’re kidding.”
He shook his head. “I’d never joke about something so serious as the theater.”
I laughed.
“I can get tickets to pretty much anything too, if you want to go.”
“That would actually blow my mind. I might not survive.”
“As long as it doesn’t blow your heart, I’ll take you.”