“God, I needed this,” Kat moans two days later as she and I sit side by side in massaging pedicure chairs, our feet soaking in hot water as we wait for our turns.
“Me too. We spend a lot of time on our feet.”
“In heels,” she agrees with a nod. “Mia needs this too.”
“Mia won’t take enough time off to do this.” I sigh as the rollers in the chair run up and down my back, on either side of my spine. “She worries me.”
“She worries all of us,” Kat says. “She’s a workaholic.”
“We’re all workaholics,” I remind her. “Mia’s a workfanatic.”
“Truth,” Kat says. “Maybe she needs an intervention.”
“I think that’s what it’ll eventually come down to. And now that we’re talking about expanding the restaurant, she’s going to need more help. She can’t keep firing all of her sous chefs.”
“She’s a perfectionist. I wouldn’t want to work for her.”
“She’s a tyrant,” I reply with a laugh. “I mean, I appreciate that she just wants the customers to have what they asked for, but geez.”
“Mia just wants people to come back. She wants them to have the best experience ever. We can’t fault her for that.”
“No.” I shake my head and smile at the woman who sits on a little stool at my feet and begins taking my old polish off. “What’s new with you?”
“Oh no,” Kat says with a laugh. “We’re going to talk about you. Please tell me you and Jake . . . played Parcheesi,” she says, wiggling her brows and making me giggle.
“Parcheesi?” I ask with a snort. “Is that what we’re calling it?”
“For now it is, yes.”
“Yes, we played Parcheesi.”
Kat claps her hands and shifts in her seat. “Finally! How was he? Does he know his way around the, um, board?”
“He doesn’t need a GPS, that’s for sure.” I take a sip of my iced latte. “He stayed the night, then took me to his place the next day. It’s a nice place.”
“I bet it is,” Kat replies with shrewd eyes. “What else happened?”
“I met Steve Jennings.”
“The rock god, Steven Jennings?” Kat squeals. “Shut the front door!”
“That’s the one,” I reply with a nod. “He’s quite the flirt.”
“He’s old,” she replies with a frown.
“Doesn’t mean he’s not a flirt. Besides, old or not, I bet he doesn’t have to work very hard to get women in his bed.”
“True. But back to Jake. Things are going well?”
“I think so.”
She turns her head to me, one perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised. “You think so?”
“How do you always have such perfect makeup?” I ask, deliberately trying to change the subject. “I mean, have you found a new setting spray you haven’t told me about? Because you need to tell me these things.”
“I swear, you two are like kids who don’t know what they’re doing, and you’re too fucking stubborn to admit it.”
“We are not like kids,” I reply with a frown.
“You think things are going well,” Kat says. “Are you guys not talking? Or are you just playing Parcheesi?”
“Of course we talk,” I reply, getting angry now. “I’ve only been out with him a handful of times, Kat. We just started sleeping together. We’re still learning each other. It’s not like we’re eight years in and I still think it’s going well. Did you expect him to put a ring on my finger already?”
Jesus, just the thought of that terrifies me.
“From the look on your face right now, I’ll say absolutely not,” Kat replies with a chuckle. “I know it’s early, and it’s totally cool to take your time, Add. In fact, take all the time you want. But you should know if it’s going well or not. I mean, does he piss you off? Irritate you? Snore too loud? Use up all the hot water? Is he nice to you?”
“He’s very nice to me,” I reply softly. “And he doesn’t irritate me.”
“Good.”
“How about you?”
“He definitely doesn’t irritate me either, but I’m not the one fucking him.”
The woman rubbing Kat’s feet whips her head up in surprise, then looks back down.
“I mean, I’m not the one playing Parcheesi with him.”
“No, I mean are you seeing anyone?” I close my eyes, enjoying the calf massage I’m getting. God, my heels make my calves hurt so bad.
But they’re so worth it.
“Yes,” Kat replies dryly. “I’m seeing the wine delivery guy twice a week.”
“Isn’t he married?”
“Yes, smart-ass, he is.” Kat laughs, then sighs in pleasure as her pedicurist hits a good spot on the sole of her foot. “I don’t have time to date, Addie.”
“Neither do I, but I’m fitting it in somehow.”
“I guess if I met someone worth making room for I would. But he’s still a myth.”
“He exists,” I reply confidently. “You’ll meet him.”
“God help him,” Kat says with a laugh. “I’m a handful.”
“We all can be.” The lady moves to my other leg, twisting her hands around my ankle. God, I love her right now. Seriously, can I just date her?
“What are you doing after this?”
“I’m going home to do some laundry and dishes, then get ready for work. You?”
“Riley is dragging me to yoga,” she says, making a face like she just swallowed sour milk. “What did I ever do to her? Why does she want to laugh at me like that?”
“What’s up with you and Cami and your aversion to the gym?” I ask with a laugh. “It’s a good stress reliever.”
“So is stabbing people, but I don’t do that either.” Her pedicurist looks up at her in horror again. “I just said I don’t do that.”
“Yoga is fun.”
“Why did I choose friends who always want to get together?” she asks grumpily, pursing her bright red lips. “Why can’t we all love each other from afar?”
“You love us,” I reply, reaching over to pat her arm. “You’ve loved us since we met at college, and you and Cami were roommates, and you’d miss us if you never saw us.”
“Yeah, yeah. Says the girl who gets to go home and be alone today.”
“So bail on Riley. She’ll understand.”
Kat frowns. “No. I won’t bail.”
“You’re a good friend.”
“I am where it’s earned,” she replies, sober now. “And I think the five of us have earned it.”
“In spades,” I agree.
I HAVE BLOUSES hung all over my condo, drying. I don’t ever put them in the dryer because they’ll shrink up in the bust area, and while I don’t mind showing off the girls now and again, I am not a stripper. They don’t need to be in anyone’s face.
Well, except Jake’s. He seems to like it when they’re in his face.
I smirk and fold a pair of panties from La Perla. I only have a few pairs of these, and they are so worth the expense.
Jake loves them.
Jake, Jake, Jake.
He’s all I think about these days, and that’s starting to irritate even me. Am I one of those annoying women who obsess about a guy and annoy everyone around them?
And is Kat right? Am I too stubborn to admit that I don’t know what I’m doing?
Do I know what I’m doing?
“What the fuck are we doing?” I ask the empty room as I fold towels. We’re getting to know each other. We’re having great sex.
Amazing sex.
The best sex in the history of sex.
But more than that, I like him. Like, really like him. So does this mean that it’s going to hurt more when he breaks my heart?
Correction: when he destroys my heart.
Because he will. At this point, if it were to end, I’d be hurt. I’d be sad. It would be another shot to my already Swiss-cheesy heart.
Then again, maybe he really is different from the others. I mean, the only similarity so far is the fact that the man has music running through his veins. He’s not like the other wannabe musicians I’ve dated. He’s funny and kind, and although he can be a little cocky, he’s not an asshole.
Or is all of that a ruse?
I hang my head, face buried in a clean towel, and moan.
“I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”
Let’s be honest, I’ve never known what I’m doing when it comes to men. Because I’ve always been drawn to the man who was the exact opposite of what was good for me. Do I feel the need to fix them? To change them? To rescue them?
Damned if I know.
But Jake doesn’t need to be saved or fixed. He’s got his shit together. And I’m still attracted to him.
More attracted than I’ve ever been in my life.
Maybe I should talk to him. Ask him what he wants.
Except, I’ll be mortified when he just stares at me blankly, wondering what the fuck I’m talking about because, after all, this is just sex.
But, it doesn’t feel like just sex. It feels like more.
And I don’t even know why I’m getting all worked up about it because it’s still super-early, and we have lots to learn about each other, and damn Kat for making me think about this shit!
We need to find her a man so she stops worrying about me and mine.
I finish folding the towels and eye the dishes in the sink. There aren’t many, so I quickly rinse them and stack them in the dishwasher, then check the time.
I have an hour until I need to get ready for work.
My phone rings, startling me.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Aloha, darling,” she replies with a smile in her voice. “How is my sweet girl?”
“I’m good.” It’s so good to hear her voice. I’ve missed her and Dad both so much. “What are you up to? Is Dad okay?”
“He’s just fine,” she assures me. “He’s napping on the balcony, as usual.”
I smile. Every afternoon, my dad sits on the balcony that looks out over the Pacific and falls asleep. He says he’s brainstorming lectures for class.
Sure he is.
“And what are you up to?”
“I was just thinking about you. How is the restaurant going?” I hear her munching on something crunchy on the other end of the line.
“It’s so great, Mom.” I tell her all about hiring Jake, and how our business has boomed in the past two months. “In fact, we’re thinking of buying the space next to ours—it’s for sale—and expanding. You should come visit! I’d love to show it to you.”
“That all sounds fantastic, Addie! I’m so proud of you. You know your dad and I would come visit in a heartbeat, but we were just at your aunt Judy’s place in Sacramento, so another trip to the mainland is a few months off yet.”
“You were at Aunt Judy’s?” I ask with a frown. “When?”
“Oh, just a couple of weeks ago. It was a quick trip.”
“It’s a thirty-minute flight from me, and you didn’t think to let me know you were there? I would have come to see you, or you could have come up here.”
“Really, Addie, it was a quick trip. You’re being a bit dramatic.”
Dramatic? Tears prick my eyes as I sit on the edge of the couch. They were hours from me. I haven’t seen them since the grand opening of Seduction more than six months ago, and I miss them.
But I’m being dramatic.
I just want my mama.
“Addie? Are you there, darling?”
“I’m here.”
“I see your father stirring. I’d better start making lunch. It was so good to hear your voice. Keep me posted on the expansion, okay?”
“Oh, can I say hi to Daddy real quick?”
“You know how he is after his nap, darling. I’ll tell him you send your love.”
He doesn’t want to talk to me.
“Okay. Love you, Mom.”
“I love you too, baby.”
I hang up and swipe angrily at the tears falling down my cheek. It’s stupid to have my feelings hurt. I’m an adult. They don’t have to check in with me every time they come to the mainland, for crying out loud.
But it would have been good to see them. And the fact that they didn’t think to call me does hurt my feelings.
Just once in this life I’d like to feel like I’m someone’s priority. That I matter.
My parents love me, I know that. But they’re doing their own thing now, which is what they should do.
I don’t even know why I’m upset. They didn’t do anything wrong.
I’m definitely moody. Maybe I’m hormonal. One thing is for sure, for the first time since we opened our doors, I’m not looking forward to work tonight. I don’t want to go in. I want to stay home, eat pizza, and watch girl movies.
And why shouldn’t I do exactly that? I have hired an excellent staff. I have four partners who know the place inside out. I don’t have to be there every damn day.
Before I overthink it, I call Kat.
“Don’t ever let me go to yoga again,” she says immediately. “They make you fold yourself into poses that just aren’t natural. I’m pretty sure I strained an eyebrow.”
“An eyebrow?”
“And a calf. Maybe my wrist, I’m not sure.”
“There is a point to my call,” I say.
“Oh, right. What’s up?”
“I’m not coming in to work tonight.”
Silence. Finally, after a long pause, she says, “What do you mean?”
“I didn’t stutter,” I reply and sniffle. “I’m not coming in.”
“Hey, does this have anything to do with our conversation earlier? Because after I gave it some thought, I realized that I was pretty hard on you. I’m sorry. I just love you and I want to make sure you’re happy.”
I love you too. This only makes the tears come harder.
“No, it’s not you,” I lie. “I just think it’s best if I stay home. You guys can handle the front of the house for one night.”
“Of course we can,” Kat assures me. “I’ll call in an extra bartender so I can bounce back and forth. It won’t be a problem at all.”
“Thank you.”
“Addie? You’d tell me if you’re upset because of me, right? Because I don’t ever want to hurt your feelings.”
“Of course.” Probably not. “I’m just gonna take some time for myself.”
“Okay. Let us know if you need anything.”
“Thanks.”
I hang up and sigh deeply. First things first. I need a shower, then I’m going to order pizza and break into the emergency tub of chocolate peanut butter ice cream I have in the back of the freezer and settle in to watch movies.
Alone.
SO MUCH FOR being alone.
When I got out of the shower, I had four missed calls. Kat clearly can’t keep her trap shut.
Since then, they all, and by all I mean all, including Cici, have been texting me, asking me if I’m okay. What’s wrong. Do I need anything.
They’re driving me crazy, and making me love them even more.
It’s weird.
I’ve eaten four slices of New York–style pizza and am thinking about firing up the oven and baking some of the ready-to-bake chocolate chip cookies I have in the fridge when the doorbell rings.
“Are you kidding me right now?”
I pause my movie and stomp across the condo. “Seriously, you didn’t have to come! You bitches need to get a life and stop worrying about me.”
I yank the door open and stop short when I’m staring at a very broad, very muscular T-shirt-covered chest. My eyes travel up to Jake’s face and narrow as a slow, sexy smile spreads over his face.
God, that smile freaking kills me. All he has to do is smile and I’m a pile of mushy goo.
Except, not today.
“Why are you here?”
The smile doesn’t leave his face as he leans his shoulder against the doorjamb. His eyes lower to my chest and his smile widens.
I glance down and sigh at the sight of tomato sauce on my white tank top, and then realize that I’m only wearing the tank and some red panties.
Because I’m being lazy.
Alone.
I roll my eyes and turn away, walking back into my living room. My blankie is in a wad in the middle of the couch, the pizza box on the ottoman, open, with three empty Diet Coke cans sitting next to the uneaten portion of the pizza.
Which I fully intend to eat before the night is out.
“Look, Jake, I’m not really fit for company tonight.”
“It looks like you’re having quite the party,” he comments as he follows me inside. He’s carrying a grocery bag. “I brought ice cream and what I’ve been told is your favorite wine.”
God, I love Kat.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I don’t have to do anything,” he agrees as he saunters all sexy-like into my kitchen and stows the ice cream in the freezer, then finds a wineglass and pours me some wine. “But I don’t like the thought of you being here, unhappy, alone.”
“I’m not unhappy. I’m moody.”
I cross my arms over my chest and glare at Jake. God, I look horrific. Can’t a girl have a pity party for one in peace?
“I won’t bother you.” His eyes have sobered, and he’s staring at me now, waiting for me to kick him the hell out.
Which I’m sure I should do. Right now. I have a movie to watch, wine to drink, and pizza to eat.
But instead I sit on the couch and gesture for him to sit on the opposite side.
“I’m watching a girl movie,” I inform him. “And I’m not changing it.”
“Good plan.”
“And I’m eating lots of food, and I’ll probably belch. I’m not very pretty tonight.”
“You’re always gorgeous, and none of that offends me.” His lips twitch as he sits, not touching me. His hands are clenching in and out of fists, and I can tell he wants to pull me to him, but he’s respecting my need for some space.
So, I resume the movie, offer him a slice of pizza, and we sit in silence as we watch The Fault in Our Stars. This movie always makes me cry. Always.
Especially just before the very end. God, it’s a shot to the heart.
But Jake pulls my feet into his lap and just rubs them firmly. He doesn’t pat my leg and say, “It’s only a movie.”
He simply stays with me.
When the movie ends, I flip off the TV, wipe my eyes, and turn to look at Jake, who’s still rubbing my feet.
“You’re good at the girl’s-night-in thing.”
“My best friend since I was fifteen years old is a girl,” he replies with a smile. “I’ve had a little practice.”
I return his smile, finally feeling somewhat better. I’m glad he has Christina. I’m glad that she’s been there for him, through everything.
True friends are hard to find.
“She seems nice.” I lean my head against the back of the couch and watch his strong hands as they move up and down my legs.
“She’s awesome,” he replies. “And speaking of her, she wanted me to ask you if you’d like to come for dinner at her house sometime in the next week. I’m supposed to find out what night works best for you.”
“Isn’t it a bit early to meet the family?” I ask sarcastically, and frantically try to come up with a reason that I shouldn’t go. This makes things . . . serious.
“Look at me.” I oblige, and immediately feel like a bitch when I see the concern and a little hurt in his amazing green eyes. “What do you have to be afraid of? You’ve already met her.”
“This will be different,” I whisper.
“It’ll be on her turf instead of yours,” he guesses correctly. I simply shrug. “Life happens outside of our comfort zones, sweetness. And she wants to spend some time with you. Not because she’s uberprotective of me, but because she loves me and she knows you’re important to me, so she wants to get to know you a bit.”
“I get it. If the girls didn’t get to interact with you at the restaurant, they’d want the same thing. They may want you to hang with us outside of work anyway, now that I think of it.”
“Of course they will, they love me.” He smiles. “Really, Addie, this isn’t a huge deal. She’s my friend. We’ll just go have dinner and you can get to know each other. You’ll like her.”
“I already do,” I admit, pleating the blanket in my lap. “Both she and Kevin seem really great.”
“So what night should I tell her?” he asks with a wink.
“Well, since I’m playing hooky tonight, let’s say Sunday night?”
“Works for me,” he replies.
“How did the other song go on Monday with Steve?”
He tilts his head in surprise. “It was good. It’ll be a hit for him.”
“I’m glad.” I nod and flip through the movie channels, looking for another girl movie.
“Thank you.”
My eyes whip to his. “For what?”
“For asking.”
He squeezes my foot once, then lets go and I crawl across the couch to him. I still don’t want to be held, but I lay my head in his lap and sigh when he runs his fingers through my hair.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“For what?”
“Being here. Even though I didn’t know I wanted you here.”
His hand pauses for a moment, then resumes brushing gently through my hair.
“You don’t ever have to thank me for being here.”
“And you don’t ever have to thank me for asking.”