Lipstick & Lattes Page 15

  I release the air from my lungs. “I don’t care. No. That’s a lie. I think I do care. Fifteen minutes ago I was prepared to ignore this message and pretend it didn’t exist.” I gaze back into the window at Ed, who is now chatting with Leann, his bearded smile puncturing my heart. “Ed’s not who I thought he was.”

  “Why? Because you got some message on Craigslist? Life’s throwing a lot of curve balls at you. You want to hide in the dugout, sit out a few innings. But you know what? Everyone needs you.” She takes my phone from my lap, opens her purse, and throws it in. “Screw the app. Screw Stephen. Ed’s a good guy. So what if he’s not that guy? He’s him. He cares about you.”

  “Does he, Hannah? If he can throw away the coffee shop in an instant, something he has built for the past twelve years, who’s to say he won’t do the same to me? How do I know he won’t up and leave the second things get tough between us? My parents sold my grandma’s house, the dog I love is going to be taken from me, Josie’s moving out. Everything is going wrong. I’m better off stopping this now before I fall in love more than I already am.”

  “No.” She’s stern, scolding me for my words. “You’re being ridiculous.”

  People say God doesn’t give you more than you can handle, but maybe, just maybe, you still need to recognize when enough is enough. That’s on you. I can’t take another loss, another disappointment.

  “Maybe. But it’s my right to be. Don’t I deserve to write the ending I want?”

  “This is what you want—to end things with a great guy because he’s doubting himself? I think you’re being selfish.”

  I whip my head around. “I can be selfish. This is my life.” My eyes are moistening. Hold back the tears, Whitney. Be strong.

  “Yes, it is, and you can do what you want. As your best friend, though, it’s my obligation to tell you that you shouldn’t give up on someone because he’s afraid. I understand you want a happy ending, but since when do you get to choreograph it? Your happy ending shouldn’t follow a formula. Leave that to the books and movies. Give Ed a chance.”

  Isn’t that what I did? My parents, after many years of lying to me, finally admitted their disappointment in me. All these years I spent believing a lie. I don’t want Ed to keep the café open on account of me and bleed money to the point he has to file bankruptcy. I can’t live with him resenting me.

  Her car radio shows it’s almost three-thirty. “I have to meet Stephen at the Redbox. Can you drive me?”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “Dead serious.” She’s waiting for me to tell her I’m kidding, but I’m not. “I’m curious. Wouldn’t you be? Wouldn’t you want to know who was on the other side of that message? I could have been beat down that night and this guy saved me. I at least owe him a thank you.”

  “A beat down is a pretty strong description, don’t you think?” She curls her leg up onto the seat and rubs the side of her face.

  “I don’t know. Maybe? Who knows what that guy was planning? All I can tell you is that someone had my back. Someone told me to get the hell out of there and held back a maniac. He could have slapped me back. He could have punched me. Or he could have apologized and walked away. All I know is that this Stephen guy stepped in when no one else did. Everyone else stood in a crowd with their phones out like the paparazzi and let me fend for myself.”

  She puts her leg back down and loses eye contact with me. Her face saddens and her body stiffens. “I’m sorry, Whitney. I was one of those people.”

  “What?” How can she even think that? “No, you’re not.”

  “Yes, I am. I wasn’t taking any pictures or video with my phone, but I never should have let it get that far. I should have grabbed you and gotten you away from him right away.”

  No. My best friend can’t think this way. I won’t have it. “What happened was scary. For all we know, he could have attacked you, too. You did the right thing.”

  “I just… I know how you felt when that asshole commented on what you were wearing. I don’t care if you’re standing there naked, it doesn’t give anyone the right to assume you want something sexual from them.”

  I’m nodding my head and letting her get this off her chest. Her concern is important to me even though she doesn’t need to be. “He was a jerk. Let’s leave it at that.”

  “Sounds good.” She bites her bottom lip and softens her eyes. “I am sorry, though.”

  I smile and pull her in for a hug. “I know.” My hand runs up and down her back and I pull her tighter. “I know.” If there’s anything I am sure of in this life, it’s that I’ll always have Hannah.

  We separate, and she shakes her head as she starts the car. “I’m going on the record to say this is a mistake.”

  A second of doubt washes over me, but as I imagine Ed placing a For Sale sign in the café window, and him walking away from me, it disappears. I need to do this.

  ••••••••

  “He said he’d be here at 3:30. He should be here already.” Hannah and I made it to the store in record time. I’m more of a rule follower when it comes to driving, but she weaves in and out of traffic like it’s nobody’s business. I’m surprised she’s only ever received one speeding ticket as long as I’ve known her. She thinks the speed limit is whatever is posted plus ten. Minimum. Careless, yes, but she got me here on time.

  I keep checking my phone for both the time and any messages that perhaps Stephen isn’t coming. Maybe he got stuck in traffic. Or possibly he’s helping his grandmother make dinner. Or he’s volunteering somewhere. He’s a nice guy, I’m sure, and helps out wherever he can. If he doesn’t show, there must be a good explanation, not that he showed up and saw me and left. Oh no. What if that’s it? What if he saw me, and I scared him off?

  “Are you nervous?”

  “No, why?”

  “Because you’re wearing out the concrete floor. Pretty soon we’re going to fall through the crater you’ve dug.”

  I stop. “Sorry. I guess I’m a bit nervous.”

  “Just a little.” She pinches her thumb and index finger together. “I’m here. Don’t be nervous.”

  Easy for her to say. She’s not about to meet what could be my knight in shining armor. I’m reliving all the same feelings I had the day I met Ed. The anticipation, the fear, the doubt. It’s all here. This time I’m not alone, though. “You’re staying the whole time, right?”

  “Of course I am. You were such a dumbass to go the first time by yourself. I’m not leaving your side.”

  Hannah’s the best. I can always count on her no matter what. Even if I am being slightly crazy. I have to meet this guy. Even if things work out with Ed, I’ll always wonder about Stephen. I can’t live with that on my conscious.

  I check my phone again and it’s 3:45. Maybe I should give up. He’s obviously not coming. As I’m about to tell Hannah we can leave, the sliding doors open and my stomach drops when I see the person walking through.

  Bryant’s face isn’t one I can easily erase from my mind. The curve of his jaw, the discolored strand of hair running down the left side. Those dark eyes so filled with anger. “What the hell are you doing here?” I grit my teeth as I speak. The very last person I expected to see was the jerk from Vogue.

  Hannah grabs my arm. “We should get out of here.” She glances over at Bryant. “And probably call the cops.”

  He waves his hands in surrender. “Ladies, I came here to apologize. Please just hear me out.”

  Hear him out? Why on Earth would I want to do that? Everything comes back to me. I can hear the music, the people staring at us, his cold words, and the look on his face when I slapped him.

  “Are you supposed to be Stephen?” It all comes together for me now. “Are you the one who sent me the message?” I hold up my cracked phone that I want to now throw at him.

  “The guy who gave me a black eye certainly exists, but I don’t know who he is. I wanted to apologize and had no idea how to contact you. My friend and I searched
Facebook trying to see if we had mutual friends somehow, we asked people at the club, finally we tried Craigslist and there you were. But wow, did I have to sift through some nasty stuff to find you.”

  He thinks I care about what he has to say. He thinks I give a damn that he spent all this time trying to find me when he sought me out and lied to me to get me here. “Oh well.”

  “Okay, I deserve that.”

  I fold my arms and jut my hip out. “What the hell is it with you guys? You think you can make everything pretty or say a few nice words and suddenly us women will fall at your feet. What do you want?”

  “So you’ll hear me out?”

  “You have two minutes.” I hold up my fingers to confirm this. Hannah is standing nearby, observing but not interrupting. I’m sure she’ll jump in if I need her.

  He rubs his hands together, and I shudder in disgust. Those are the hands that touched me where they weren’t supposed to. Those are the hands that attacked me, invading my most personal space.

  “I was really, really drunk that night.”

  “No excuse.”

  “Let’s get out of here, Whitney.”

  She’s right. Why am I even entertaining the idea of hearing what he has to say? What he did to me is unforgivable. I’m lucky it didn’t go further than it did. I’m stupid to talk to him. At all.

  The doors open and when I start to walk out, Bryant pleads with me to listen. “You said I have two minutes. Please, let me finish.”

  “Whitney, you don’t have to listen to him. Let’s go.”

  I’d be lying if I said my curiosity isn’t piqued. After that night, what could he possibly say to me? “Nothing you can say to me will make me forget what happened.” I’m giving him the disclosure. He can continue if he wants, but nothing will alter my opinion of him.

  “I’m sorry about that. I was really attracted to you—I still am—but I didn’t know how to approach you that night, and once I have had more than enough beers in me, I get a little crazy.”

  “That seems like a sorry excuse to try to clear your conscious about your hatred toward women.”

  “I don’t hate women.”

  “Yes, you do. What you did is disgusting. Inexcusable.” I check the time. “Your two minutes are almost up.”

  “I know what I did wasn’t a gentleman thing to do.”

  “You’re damn right.” I interrupt him to agree. I’m about done with this conversation.

  “Please just let me finish. I’m awkward around women, and I really like you and want to have a chance with you.”

  “That’s really…. honest, Bryant.” That’s the most I can give him. Honesty. But I’m ready to leave and never want to see this weasel’s face again. “I’ll never date someone like you, so I’m done with this conversation. Maybe next time you’ll learn to keep your hands to yourself before you wind up in jail.”

  He drops his hands to his sides and puts them in his pockets. “You’re right. Damn it. I do this all the time.”

  “Do what?” So help me if he’s done this more than once.

  “Mess everything up.” He slicks back the sides of his hair. “I always do something that screws it up.”

  “What you did is far more than a screw up. I suggest you get some counseling or something. No one deserves to be treated how you treated me that night.”

  He tries to look at me, but I can’t make eye contact with this man. I can’t believe I even considered this as a possibility over Ed. Ed’s perfect. He’s handsome, supportive, and cares for me. Why am I fighting against the current? I should be riding it, with him beside me. Should he decide to close up shop, that’s up to him, and I should support him. Given the chance he wants to try and stay afloat, I’ll do what I can. This is dumb—this doubt I’m having within myself. Even if everyone else in the world fails me, that doesn’t mean he will.

  Bryant pulls his keys from his pocket and swings them around. I wish the ring would get caught on his finger. “Well, thanks for showing up, even if it didn’t go how I planned. You kind of made my day, just seeing you and having the chance to apologize.”

  I don’t care about his day. I never want to see him again. Ever. “I’m sorry I came then.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  I click on the TV and allow my eyes a moment to adjust to the bright screen. It’s almost one in the morning, and I’ve been tossing and turning since ten-thirty. I hit the mute button quickly before MASH blares through the speakers. I don’t want to wake Josie up.

  There is nothing on television this early in the morning, or this late at night, depending on how you look at it. MASH, Cheers, infomercials, or The 700 Club seem to be my only options. When I find a station playing Must Love Dogs, I finally stop. This is one of my favorite romantic movies to watch. Gosh, I miss Ed. And Sienna. We raised five hundred dollars for The Humane Society. Sienna still hasn’t been adopted. A lot of prospective adopters are worried about her past and how it will affect her temperament. I wanted to text Ed so many times, but I was too embarrassed. He texted me to tell me thank you and I haven’t replied. Partly because I’m scared, but mostly because I’ve been painting and working. Now it’s a week later, and I’m miserable.

  I’m almost to the end of the movie, and weeping instead of fast asleep as I hoped to be, when Josie comes into the living room and sits down beside me. I’m going to miss her so much.

  “What are you doing up?” She hugs a pillow to her chest and brings her knees in as well.

  “I couldn’t sleep.” Everything changes tomorrow. There will be an empty room in this apartment.

  “No? Is that guy keeping you up?”

  “Ed? No. I’m sure I’ll talk to him soon. He’s not the one that I’m thinking about.”

  “Who then? Someone new?”

  She’s seriously clueless. I look around at the boxes surrounding us, the ones that I can see within the shadows of the light from the TV. We’ve shared the past two years of our lives together. We’re not best friends, but were something just as important. Roommates. Close roommates. The next best thing. Josie has been there for me when I come home from work upset about something or after I had a bad date and need someone to drink wine and eat ice cream with. She helped kick my butt into shape by demanding I take classes at her gym. Sure, I may have stopped going, but still. She’s a part of me, part of my life, now she’s leaving.

  “You.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you. I can’t believe that this is the last night we’re going to be together in this place.”

  Josie finds the remote and turns down the volume on the TV. “Don’t. Don’t get all sappy on me and pull your Whitney crap.”

  “Excuse me? My Whitney crap? What’s that?”

  “You know, when you get all teary-eyed and sentimental and want to hug and shit.”

  I’m keeping my tears close to me, locked away behind my eyes and they’re escaping through my breaking heart. Still, she knows they’re there. “This.”

  “This. Care to finish the sentence?”

  “This is what I’ll miss. Your flat-out honesty and your ability to make me laugh. Your refusal to use a filter even though it’s there. I know it’s there. I’ve seen it.”

  “If you need me to yell at you for the decision you’re thinking about making and shouldn’t, call me. If you want honesty about how fat you look in the skirt you want to buy, text me a picture. I’ll still be here. I’m only moving a few blocks away.”

  “I know. It just won’t be the same.”

  She’s quiet now, and I’m positive she wants to ‘pull Whitney crap’ and hug me and cry. I wait patiently until it happens.

  “I’m going to miss the shit out of you. Hannah better take good care of you.”

  “She will.”

  “Well she’s doing a pretty crappy job already if she took you to see that guy. You do know that people disappear and are murdered that way.”

  She truly is concerned, yelling at me and squeezing me so tight I might
explode. “Josie, how do you know I’m not the bad guy?”

  She cocks her head and wrinkles form on her forehead. “What do you mean?”

  I reach my hand behind me and take a hold of the pillow. I grip it as I say, “Prepare to die!”

  I catch her completely off guard as I whip the pillow at her. I manage to get a couple of good hits in before she’s hitting me back. We engage in this pillow fight for a couple of minutes until we both have finally reached exhaustion. Instead of going back to our bedrooms, we curl up with each other on the couch and fall asleep, taking advantage of our last night together as roommates.

  ••••••••

  The night of the musical arrives, and I’m beyond excited. I can’t believe a customer was kind enough to give us tickets simply for carrying the eyeliner she needed!

  It’s been two weeks since I’ve seen Ed, though we’ve exchanged a few texts. Hannah thinks I should run into his arms and confess my love to him, but I can’t do that. I don’t know what I want. Right now I need to focus on finding a new roommate or a higher paying job to be able to afford the apartment on my own. Josie thought she was being funny when she suggested I take out a Craigslist ad for a roommate. I didn’t.

  Hannah picks me up thirty minutes before the show, and we’re both dressed to the nines. I’m wearing my most expensive dress with a matching handbag, and I spent an additional twenty minutes on my makeup. If I see Vivian, I want to look my best. I’m in the makeup business. My face can literally make or break my career.

  “How was work today?” We’re standing in line with our tickets, waiting for the line to move forward. It’s a large turnout, but I wouldn’t expect anything different for Wicked. I’m so excited it’s come to our town.

  “Busy.” Hannah ponders her day for a moment. “I think I sold about fifteen different products, and I did about five makeovers. That’s a pretty good day.”

  “I’d say. I was glad to have today off. Who am I kidding? I’m always happy to have a day off!”

  Hannah snaps her ticket on my arm as she laughs. “Let me tell you, though, I’m relieved Val agreed to take my shift the next two days so I can pack.”