by Wood, Vivian
“Save The Date,” I read. I glance up at her, my brow drawing down. “Mr. Reginald Jackson and Miss Madisyn Montgomery would like you to reserve March 14th for their wedding day—“
I glance up at her again, confused. She pets her long dark hair and purses her lips, the look in her eyes saying eat your heart out.
“Syn, what the fuck is this?” I ask.
She smiles haughtily. “Reggie asked me to marry him and I said yes. I thought that you would prefer to be told in person. Apparently you like to be told big news.” She gives a pouty little shrug.
“I was under the impression that we weren’t done,” I growl. “That’s the pattern. You leave, you make a big deal about it on social media, then you sneak back in. I just deal with the blower to finances and social esteem. It’s been that way for four years, Madisyn.”
Syn flutters her eyelashes. “Well, this is me, telling you. It’s final this time. I’m really with Reggie. Look.” She flashes an enormous diamond ring at me, looking proud. “It’s two carats and princess cut, because Reggie says I’m his queen.”
It takes everything in me not to ball up the save the date invitation and throw it back in her smug face. “I see,” I say, jaw clenched.
I expect to feel anger. After all, anger and disappointment are the usual breakup feelings. But instead I feel a weary sort of relief.
Dating Madisyn was like going to a theme park. It was exciting for a while to ride the rollercoasters and eat the junk food, but after a couple of years, I just feel queasy and sunburned.
As she gushes about her new man, all excited to have something to rub in my face, I just sort of feel bad for whoever she fooled into proposing to her so soon.
“It’s only a month and a half away, because we are just so excited to tie the knot. Don’t worry, though…” she says, her expression indulgent. “I made Reggie agree that we were going to invite you. We’ll even throw in a plus one… not that you’ll need it, probably…”
A thought occurs to me. It’s maybe not the best idea I’ve ever had, but standing there in a staring contest with Madisyn, it seems better than just taking whatever she hands me.
“I will need it,” I say, showing her my teeth when I smile. “I’ll need a seat right by my side. Where else would my wife sit?”
I swear, Syn’s smugness drops away faster than an atomic bomb. “Come again?”
“My wife, Cate?” I speak slowly to antagonize Madisyn. “You do know that I got married, don’t you?”
“I—“ She shakes her head, looking chagrined. “No. I hadn’t heard.”
My smile curls into a grin. “Well, we’ve been playing it very low key. Anyway, I will need that plus one, okay?”
“Oh… okay…” Madisyn seems to shake off her stupor. “Well… I should probably get back to Reggie. He likes to know where I am.”
“Uh huh.” I’ll just bet he would love to know his future wife is here, rubbing her upcoming nuptials in my face. “Sounds good. I’ve got this save the date so…”
She gives me the most fake smile ever and then practically bolts out of the bar. I watch her go, grinning.
That is, until I realize that Cate didn’t exactly agree to me using her as a pawn in my war against my former fiancée. In fact, Cate didn’t agree to my telling Madisyn that we got married.
Oops.
Maybe if I make a fuss over things, it’ll take a couple of months for our annulment to go through. Or maybe I can convince Cate to help me.
It’s unlikely, given that we pretty much hate each other. But it can’t hurt to propose the idea to her… even if I never proposed the actual marriage.
I shake my head and go back to sweeping, puzzling over how I’m going to talk to Cate about it tomorrow.
Chapter Six
Cate
When my alarm clock goes off, I’m already awake. I reach over and silence it with a slap of my hand to the plastic case. Groaning, I sit up, disturbing no less than three cats and one very large Doberman. They all stretch, the Doberman whining when I move a cat closer to her and get out of my tiny twin bed.
“Don’t start with me today,” I tell her. “I can’t be late to work, not even for more pets. Although if I just didn’t go, my quality of life would probably be better…”
My job absolutely sucks. Not only do I sort of hate being forced to smile as I make coffee, but three people quit last week so I was forced to do the work of multiple people for the same pay. I also had to trade shifts with everyone that still works at the shop to even get the weekend off, making all kinds of deals with the devil.
“Work sucks,” I say. “Then you die. Hopefully you get to buy a house first but there are no guarantees. Right, Shaggy?”
Shaggy whines and shoves her head under my hands.
I scratch her behind an ear and then turn to the other twin bed. Carmine, my seventy seven year old Italian roommate, is already long gone. He made his bed neatly, but the two dogs and one cat sleeping on it don’t care. They probably made themselves at home as soon as Carmine left.
Getting together my shower tote, a clean-ish towel, and my shower flip flops, I shuffle down the hallway toward the bathroom. My grandma is sitting outside the bathroom, waiting in her floral bathrobe.
“Ernest is taking forever!” she shouts at the closed door. She rolls her eyes and looks at me. “Hello, darling.”
“Hi Grandma,” I say, juggling my towel and my tote. “I’m guessing I shouldn’t even ask if the shower downstairs is free?”
“Ha!” She shakes her head. “Do you think I would be up here in line for the smaller bathroom if there weren’t three people in line for the downstairs one?”
I nod. “That figures.”
Her face softens and she reaches over, smoothing my hair. “How was your vacation, my dearest?”
Bobbing my head, I squint at her. She’s exactly the same height as me, same texture hair, same lithe frame. Looking at my mother’s mother is like looking in a magical mirror that shows exactly what I’ll look like some day.
“It was fine, Grandma. Although I think I do have a hangover still.”
Her eyebrows lift. “Still? It’s Tuesday!”
“I know. I drank half the alcohol on planet Earth, I’m pretty sure.” And got married, but I don’t feel the need to share that fact. Especially not since I’m pretty sure that Luca will move heaven and earth in order to not be tied to me in that way…
Grandma cocks her head. “Well, I suppose you were due for a weekend away, weren’t you? You’re always busy working or tutoring or volunteering… That’s all quite important, but it’s fun to spoil yourself for a weekend.”
My face heats. “Well, consider that done.”
My grandmother smiles, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Yes, well. I’ve tried to finish the work your parents started as best I can. They did such a good job raising you.”
I press her hand. “It’s okay. When they died, you took me in. Here you were, a woman who thought that she had outlived her child bearing years—”
Her lips lift. “Having you move into this commune of a house was maybe not the wisest choice for someone that recently lost their parents. But it is what I have to offer.”
I smile. “Hey, if it wasn’t for you, I never would’ve roomed with someone like Carmine. It’s been interesting if nothing else.”
“Unfortunately, in having you live as I do, I’m afraid I’ve instilled some of my tendencies in you. Your parents would probably not be terribly glad.”
I don’t feel like talking about my parents with anyone, not even my grandma. When they died in an auto accident during my first semester in college, I had a choice: spend forever crying miserably, or pack up my tears and stuff my sadness deep down inside.
I chose the option that allowed me to carry on living. I stitched my heart up and guard myself at all times because…
Well, it’s better to live a life without love than to lose someone I truly care for. Of that, I am certain.
<
br /> Giving my grandma a stiff smile, I touch her shoulder softly. “You did great. I’m going to be late for work if I don’t hurry. I guess I’ll skip the shower this morning.”
“Whatever you think, my dear.” She returns my smile and then picks up a section of the paper, putting it close to her face in order to make out that small print.
Wandering back down the hall to my bedroom, I lock the door and start changing clothes. A blue skirt, yellow knee socks, a matching yellow shirt, and a darker blue cardigan. For a second, I am reminded of the black dress I wore in Las Vegas. After wearing that for a night, it feels like all my other clothes are dull and ordinary.
After another second, I switch the yellow socks and shirt for a light pink camisole. I know it’s not a big deal for some people, but for me I’ve made a huge change to my wardrobe.
My orange tabby Lyra appears from beneath my bed, chirping for attention. Scratching her under her chin, I check my phone. I have a text from Luna waiting.
Feb 2nd, The Seattle Stadium, Billie Eilish. Should I snag us tix?
Rather than replying right away, I put my phone down. I can’t afford to see Billie Eilish, but I also don’t want Luna to just buy me a ticket. Luna’s family are so wealthy that they have a Swiss ski chalet and houses sprinkled across the States. Even back when my family was alive, I usually watched her family go on their yachting trips and getting a new Mercedes when they had a birthday. I’ve never had that kind of wealth, nor wanted it.
And after my parents died, I was left with my grandma and precious little else. So I have to really put my foot down with Luna, because of the house.
I go over to my bedside table, lifting the lid on my mahogany jewelry box. I pull out two pieces of paper: one a worn photograph and the other a full sized sheet of paper that has been unfolded and refolded so many times that it’s falling apart.
In the photo, my parents hug me, an unremarkable little one story house in the background. I unfold the sheet of paper, which is from the realtor. There lies an updated version of the house, quaint ivy overgrowing the tan brick façade. It had to be sold when my parents died…
But one day, I’ll get it back. I smooth the little bend lines at the corner of the photograph, briefly running my fingers over my family. I already have eighteen thousand dollars saved up toward the down payment.
So while seeing Billie Eilish sounds great, owning my family home sounds even better than that. And I know that Luna would buy the tickets without even thinking twice because she’s gracious like that, but I don’t want her to.
Heading over to the door, I unlock it again. Carmine is really only particular about one thing, and that’s having access to his space. Which is fair, everything considered.
I pick up my phone, unsure what I’m going to say to Luna. Can I just be frank and honest with her? That shouldn’t hurt her feelings, right?
As I am wondering just what to write, my phone rings. It’s my manager from work Javier, and he’s video calling me. That’s very weird. Javier pretty flatly dislikes me. Why would he call me? Is it a pocket dial?
Taking a huge breath, I answer the phone. “Hello?”
Javier's scowling face appears on the screen. “Cate. You are late. Again.”
I screw up my face. “I switched with Dawn. Remember, you signed off on it?”
“Dawn got fired yesterday,” he says, a satisfied look on his face. “So any deals you might have made with her are null and void.”
Shaking my head, I am at a loss. “I’m sorry, but no one told me.”
“It’s your responsibility to reach out to her. And now it’s a bit of a moot point anyway, because this was the last straw.” His lips curve up into a smile. “You’re fired, Cate De Rose.”
I don’t believe it. “But… but I’ve never even had a negative review! On the customer comment cards, they all love me! And the other managers love working with me…”
Javier shrugs. “Too bad. There a million eager young baristas waiting to fill your shoes.” He clears his throat. “I’ll need you to return your work shirt and keys before I can release your last paycheck.”
I scowl, still a little taken aback. “For the record, you are the worst manager I’ve ever had. Like ever. And before this I worked at McDonald’s.”
He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, all the employees I’ve fired say that. Listen, I’m gonna need your shirt and keys this week—”
I press the end button and his face vanishes. What a jerk! I mean, who fires someone over the phone in the first place? My eyes well up, although I know that Javier really did me a favor. It’s just hard to look at it any way but as a personal slight at the moment.
I take a few deep breaths, trying to remind myself that I kind of hated the job anyway. I just relied on it for a study income, but other jobs can offer that.
Grinding my teeth and wiping my eyes, I toss my phone at my bed. A second later, Carmine pops his head in the room, looking like nothing so much as a grape that has withered with age. When he speaks, his voice is hoarser than it usually is. It sounds like someone grating a particularly hard cheese.
“Eh, Cate. You got a friend looking for you downstairs.” His accent is Italian, so thick you could spread it on toast.
My eyebrows fly up. “Yeah?”
“Eh.” Carmine turns and hobbles back down the hallway, his cane clicking faintly on the hardwood floors.
I take a deep breath, willing myself to calm down. It’s probably Luna, all excited about the Billie Eilish show. One part of my mind is whirling, trying to think of all I have to do: update my resume, compile a list of coffee shops, and start plastering every single place on that list with a picture of me attached to my resume.
I head downstairs in the meantime. It’s still early in the day. Plenty of time to head to the library and use their computer and printer.
Gosh, it really grinds my gears that Javier was so rude. I trudge down the stairs, angry at the whole world just now.
Chapter Seven
Cate
Clenching my jaw, I hit the bottom floor and round the corner, expecting to see Luna waiting there.
I pull up short, startled. Luca is there, looking every bit the part of the bad boy in his dark jeans and leather motorcycle jacket. He glances up, catching my eye. His gaze automatically narrows, but his expression is blank.
“Hey, Cate,” he says. For just a second, the throatiness of his voice makes my heart speed up. His expression turns hesitant, which I don’t think I have ever witnessed before.
“Hi?” I ask, folding my arms across my chest. “I didn’t even know you knew where I lived.” My brows draw down. “Did you bring a form for me to sign or something?”
Luca glances behind me, pulling a face at the sound of the vacuum firing up in the next room. “Want to take a walk?”
Now I’m growing suspicious. “Uhhhh….” I glance behind me, biting my lip. Grandma’s friend Cynthia pokes her head in, looking gently surprised. I turn back to Luca with a shrug. “Sure, okay.”
Slipping on a pair of Grandma’s clogs and one of her heavy woolen coats, I follow him out of the house. It’s cold out here, Seattle in the winter cold. So I can see my breath and there is a thin layer of snow on the ground.
It’s definitely no Las Vegas, that’s for sure.
I can feel Luca’s gaze on me, judgmental as ever. In the cold light of midmorning, he seems cool and impenetrable, as if nothing in the world bothers him. I take in his oversized features and his dark, brooding look. The thought of being on the wrong end of one of his glares sits heavy in the pit of my stomach.
Shivering, I shake my head at myself. So he’s handsome. So he’s moody. So he’s attractive. That’s no reason to get bent out of shape, is it?
I wrinkle my nose. “So?”
He glances away for a moment, seeming to steel himself. “I need a favor,” he admits.
Tilting my head to the side, I frown. “From me?”
“Yes.” He folds his arms across his
chest. “It’s to do with the annulment.”
Shoving my hands deep into the pockets of my coat, I try to imagine just what he’s getting at. Another chill slides down my spine. “Well, anytime you want to get around to naming it, that would be great.”
He shoots me an annoyed glance. “Alright. I need you to agree not to annul for a little while. I need a month before we can start the paperwork.”
I pull a face. “Okay… that’s not really a favor, though. That’s just being patient.”
He closes his eyes briefly. “Well… that’s not all. I also need you to attend a wedding with me.” He clears his throat, his dark eyes flashing with intensity. “My ex’s wedding.”
Now I am officially surprised. “The one who dumped you recently?”
His cheeks color but he just grows more gruff. “Yeah. Madisyn. She’s getting married in a month and a half and I…” He pauses. His throat works as he swallows. “I told her that I was married. Which is true…”
That gives me pause. On one hand, my heart immediately goes out to Luca. He’s admitting to being upset by Madisyn’s treatment of him, which I think was poor. But on the other hand, he’s proposing lying to her.
To what end exactly, I can’t say.
“I mean… technically we are married,” I say, looking at him skeptically. “I’m guessing you didn’t fill her in on the fact that you got drunk and wed someone you don’t even like, huh?”
Luca looks at me as if I was actually torturing him. “No, I didn’t. But you have to know that I wouldn’t ask you if there was any other way.” He hesitates. “I could make it worth your while, though. I could give you a job at my bar. And… I don’t know… a cash bonus when you finally sign the annulment paperwork, maybe?”
My eyebrows go up. “A bonus?”
He rolls his eyes at my response. “Yeah. If that’s what needs to happen, sure.”
I bite my lower lip, thinking for a second. “Let me just be sure that I’ve got this right. You’re offering me a job and a cash bonus for just… not pursuing the annulment for a month?”