RATHER THAN WORK on the tasks I need to check off for Vinea’s upcoming board meeting, I spend my time planning AJ’s field trip. Which of course irritates Shane, because it’s their job to work on this sort of community relations project. So they give me a talking-to, which I appreciate, and leave me alone in my office with binders and slide presentations to finalize.
Mercifully, my friend Chloe calls me, saving me from staring into space when I should be working. “Hi, friend,” I chirp, remembering that today is a special day for her.
“Did you send me these flowers? These gorgeous, gorgeous flowers?”
Ah. I forgot I did that. “Well, yes. You deserve them. It’s not every day my friend launches a book.” I hear her take a deep sniff. “I don’t really think ranunculus have a scent, chum.”
“They’re just so delicate and decadent. You really shouldn’t have.”
“Oh, knock it off. I can afford it and you’re worth it and you said you were mentioning them in your book, so I thought it was a nice release day surprise.”
“When did I say I put them in the book?”
I shrug and tap a finger on the desk. “One of the Foof meetings. A while back.” Chloe writes historical romances, and they’re equal parts spicy and mind blowing. She creates these characters who just feel so real, and I love how all her books end with everything happy. Not just the love part, but all the siblings get along by the end and everyone feels fulfilled professionally, too. Her books are the juiciest fantasies I’ve ever encountered.
“Well, I’ve got your signed copy right here, as per usual.”
I smile at that, imagining adding the colorful paperback to the shelf in my living room. I don’t ever read physical books anymore, but I love having copies of Chloe’s books. I’ve got our friend Emma’s books, too. So many Foof members are out there producing amazing things. It makes me that much more determined to succeed with Vinea. “I’m really glad you called, Chlo. You snapped me out of a funk.”
“Well, I’m just floored that you remembered to do something nice for me even with everything you have going on.” I don’t tell her I set a reminder in my calendar for the day before all her book launches so that I get a card out to her at minimum. I know she’s dealing with some sadness that her husband doesn’t really seem to celebrate her book releases, so I just want to make sure there’s one person who knows her in real life, that’s rooting for her. Chloe sighs. “What’s the next step with your I. P. O. thingy?”
I groan. “Well, Logan handles most of all that, thankfully. I’m waiting for the fact checks for the magazine article, though. I can’t shake the feeling that the reporter is out to portray me as a ditz.”
“You’re the furthest thing from a ditz I’ve ever known. Wait. That sentence is weird. My brain is fried.”
“Go drink champagne or stare at your flowers or something. I gotta get back to my data cave.”
We say our goodbyes and hang up and I stare at my monitor some more. I really can’t afford too much time with my thoughts unmoored like this. I take a deep breath and pull up my calendar, thinking I can just look at the week ahead and maybe settle on what I need to be doing. Each day is a rainbow of appointments and reminders. Red for Foof meetings or Foof-related reminders. Green for Vinea meetings and deadlines. Ah, there’s a blue one for Mom’s birthday.
She’d be turning 60 tomorrow if she had lived. Twice my age. In another universe, I’d be busy planning her a kickass party. You bet your butt I’d get ranunculus for her, and any other flower she wanted. I tamp down the sadness creeping in as I realize I don’t even know what sort of drink she’d love to be sipping as I sat her on a glistening throne, wearing a shimmery boa.
“Nope,” I say, closing the lid to my laptop and standing up from my desk. “This isn’t going anywhere.” I drive myself to Esther’s bar, knowing I should confide in my friend that I’m feeling my grief today, but also knowing I probably won’t tell her this. Nobody likes a downer.
Before I go in the door to Bridges and Bitters, I pull up my phone and make a donation to the American Heart Association in my mom’s name. That’s better than dwelling on something I can’t change. Feeling slightly more upbeat, I make my way inside and grin when I see the place is packed.
There must be some sort of sportsball event happening. This city goes nuts for its sportsball, although sporty people usually go to sporty bars to watch games and things. Maybe Esther has finally reached a level where she’s packing people in on a random Thursday. I shoulder my way up to the bar and see her simultaneously pouring drinks and offering instructions to another bar tender, who’s trying to keep up.
I stare at them for a bit, transfixed as they work in unison, and then I feel someone staring at me. I turn my head and frown when I identify the hard, dark glower of Mr. Grumpypants himself. “AJ Trachtenberg? What the hell are you doing in my happy place?”
His eyebrows shoot up, like he’s surprised I recognized him. Okay, maybe he’s taken aback by the vehemence of my words. But it is not okay for him to be here right now. This is my friend’s bar, where I come to smash the patriarchy. Where I’m supposed to open up about my dead mom, or not, depending on the vibe I get from Esther.
I shake my head and slap the bar. “Esther, what’s going on in here?”
“Hosted a training session,” she mutters. She doesn’t even look up at me as she keeps stirring and pouring, her strong arms whipping around bottles like she’s a machine. I feel compelled to figure out a way to make things more efficient for her, to help her streamline this process somehow, but I feel a sharp poke in my upper arm, yanking me back to the present.
“Are you following me?”
Is he seriously asking me this? He looks serious. Shit, he looks good in his teacher clothes, all dark and growly. “Why would I be following you? And why are you so mad at me?”
Esther slides a drink into my hand at that moment and I don’t bother to look down at it. I bring the glass to my lips and stare at AJ, waiting for him to explain himself. Why is he mad at me? Only my family gets mad at me. Seriously. People love me.
AJ looks at my hand and my drink. “So you just happen to be here tonight? When there’s a professional development session for science educators?”
I take a big sip of my drink, smacking my lips in response to the tarty blend of amazing flavors. “AJ. This bar, this mixologist…these are my things that I do with my spare time. I am not here to pander to science teachers. But seriously why are you mad at me? Is this because I came to your school?”
He runs a hand through his hair and sighs, taking a pull from his bottle of beer. He should have let Esther choose something for him to drink. I bet a stiff drink would wipe that mean smirk off his face. The crowd around the bar thins out as people acquire their drinks and make their way toward the tables and booths.
I rest a hip against a stool and stare as AJ slides into the adjacent seat, still staring at me with one brow raised. “You shouldn’t have come to the school. But if you did, you should have waited in the office and not interrupted my class.”
“Your friend brought me up to your class. I would have been perfectly happy to sit outside the principal’s office and wait.”
“I would have made you wait for a long time.”
I roll my eyes. “There you go again being mean. You really do have a Mr. T temper.”
AJ barks out a laugh, surprising us both. He takes a quick drink to hide his frustration at being amused by something I said. “I should get back to my group,” he says, looking like he can’t decide which is worse: staying next to me or returning to the other science teachers, who are staring at him from across the room.
I wave. He glowers. “Well don’t let me keep you,” I tell him, and he huffs away. I barely even stare at his ass.
“You gonna tell me more about that whole situation?” I turn to see Esther leaning against the bar, grinning at me.
I hook a thumb back over my shoulder. “That’s the guy who I was awkward with at Vinea the other day, so then when you all advised me to call him and apologize, he wouldn’t answer his phone.”
“Oh lord. What did you do?”
I bite my lip. I hadn’t expected Esther to take his side in all this. “Well. I went to his school to apologize and reiterate my offer to give the kids a tour and a nice day. I’ve even lined up some data scientists to do some activities with them. Wait til you hear about it. We’re giving them access to the software and designing some little learning games for them. It’s going to be a whole thing.”
“So he was already upset with you, and you went to his workplace unannounced, and now you showed up at a work thing he’s attending at my bar?”
I hand her my empty glass. “I guess none of that is technically incorrect.”
She rinses the glass and puts it in the sink behind the bar. “Well. He’s looking at you like he can’t decide if he’d rather fuck you or run you over with his station wagon.”
I turn around and see that AJ is indeed looking at me from across the room, an unreadable expression on his dark face. I think his stubble grew in a little more since he walked over there. Is he really irritated because I invaded his space? This just makes me more determined than ever to win him over. I love a challenge, and there’s nothing more challenging than trying to make a grouchy person happy.
When I turn back to face my friend, she laughs and shakes her head. “I can feel you plotting from here, Sam.”
“Well what would you do if someone didn’t like you?”
“Lots of people don’t like me.” She shrugs. “That’s their problem.”
“Hmph.” I fold my hands on the bar and try to remember why I came down here to begin with. I guess it’s a successful visit if it distracted me enough to temporarily forget. “I’ll win him over,” I tell her.
Esther laughs and starts washing glasses. “I’m sure you will.”