Chapter 24 – Sydney
SYDNEY
Fucking fuck.
Whoever is sending me flowers needs to fire their florist. Immediately.
There’s a new delivery waiting for me outside my apartment, propped against the door, when I leave to meet Jade for our next Operation Sydney outing, and I can tell something is wrong even before I get a good look at them.
Sure enough, when I pick them up, the flowers are disgusting.
Moldy and dead, the stems wilted, bugs scurrying about, climbing over the stalks.
The smell alone is enough to make me gag. And I know for a fact they weren’t at my door last night when Bea and I came home from work, so there’s no chance this is on me. They were delivered like this, no question.
Whatever. I’m already running late since I couldn’t find a single clean pair of underwear this morning after my very hurried shower.
I make a mental note to catch up on my clearly overdue laundry as I carry the armful of mold and dead flowers downstairs with me, tossing them in the alley dumpster on my way to the bus.
It’s not like I was going to keep them, anyway.
Turns out lilies are toxic to cats, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting them anywhere near my precious baby chaos demon.
I barely make it to my bus in time, but I fear the damage is already done. I’m officially running late, and I know Jade will never let me hear the end of it.
Our attempt at pottery may have been a disaster, but these little weekly outings with her have become an anchor for me. In all the chaos of my life, they’re giving me something to look forward to, something that's mine.
This week, we opted to take a class at a brand-new cooking school that just opened across town, and I dramatically underestimated how long it would take to get there. The last thing I want to do is piss off Jade when we’re going to be standing over open flames.
Leaning back in my seat, I stare out the bus window, watching my neighborhood blur past. We ease to a stop at a red light, and that’s when I see him.
Ash.
He’s right there across the street, standing on the sidewalk like fate has dropped him off just for me, and the effect of seeing him is instant and overwhelming.
Something lights up inside of me, warming me.
I almost tell the driver to stop, to let me out early, the need to see him so strong it’s overpowering.
Maybe this is a sign. Last night, I let Sebastian in, just a little. Maybe it’s time to do the same with Ashton, maybe seeing him here is the universe’s way of letting me know I’m ready.
I stand up and reach for the pull cord to stop the bus before I realize he’s not alone.
My heart stutters and then stops.
He’s with a woman. A woman I recognize instantly.
Annika, Alec’s wife, approaches him, her white-blonde hair fluttering prettily in the breeze. I blink, and suddenly they’re hugging, Ashton wrapping his arms around her lower back, pulling her close to him, burying his face in her neck. It’s intimate. Too familiar.
My whole body goes cold as I stand there, watching them. He’s right there, just a pane of glass and a few feet separating us, but I’ve never felt further away from him.
I never pull the cord. The bus jolts forward, and we’re moving with the rest of the traffic, that split second of seeing him now gone, the two of them fading into the distance behind me. After a while, I force myself to sit back down in my seat, my hands shaking.
I was right. This was a sign, after all. A sign to stop waiting, to stop hoping this was all a misunderstanding that we could eventually solve and get past. There’s no getting past something like this. No future with them, when I’m the other woman.
I drag my hand over my cheek, wiping away the tears there, and force myself to stare straight ahead for the rest of the ride.
“Is there a reason why we keep picking activities that you excel at but embarrass me to my core?” I ask Jade. Sure enough, I am late, and by the time we walk into the new cooking school together, most of the students have already picked their stations and gotten started.
“What makes you think I’ll be any good at this?” she asks without a hint of irony.
“Jade, my love, my everything, you’re literally a baker,” I remind her.
“I get how you could come to that conclusion, but have you ever actually seen me cook?” Jade smirks. “Baking and cooking are completely different sciences! There are rules to baking. Precision, measurement, finesse. Cooking is like the wild west, and it stresses me out.”
“Great, so we picked something we’ll both fail miserably at, then?” Today is just getting worse and worse.
“We picked this so that maybe we can actually attempt to cook for ourselves once in a while instead of gorging on takeout every day.” Jade sits down at one of the open tables and pulls me down to sit next to her.
“What is with you today, anyway? You’re extra grumpy.
Which is funny, since I’m the one that had to wait outside in the cold for you to show up. ”
“Sorry. I’m just having a bad day.” The table in front of us is piled high with everything we’ll need for class.
I pull on my apron and assemble the ingredients in front of us just as the instructor makes his introductions.
I try to listen, to pay attention to everything he says, but I can’t focus.
And I have no idea what a “roux” is, but apparently that’s what we’re starting with, so I guess I’ll have to figure it out.
“Anything you want to talk about?” Jade whispers the question, but it’s still loud enough to earn us an annoyed look from Chef Ramirez, the instructor.
“Later…” I say quietly, trying to avoid an embarrassing reprimand in front of the whole class.
We start by chopping onions, carrots, and celery into, what theoretically should be, equally sized pieces. Today’s lesson is comfort foods, so we’re making a traditional chicken pot pie. I focus on putting together the filling, while Jade works on the pie crust.
“Okay, so, I guess there’s some baking in cooking,” Jade says smugly as she puts the finishing touches on what looks like a perfect crust.
“I could kill you, you know. And I know exactly where I would hide the body,” I threaten. An acrid smell fills the air around our station as the filling I’m working on starts to burn in the pot, and I frantically adjust the burners to turn the temperature down. “Do not test me.”
Jade leans over and scoops a spoonful of my mess out of the pot, chewing it slowly. “Why is your chicken so rubbery?” she asks.
I point my spatula threateningly at her. “One more word and it’s over, Jade. I swear.”
“Okay, okay, let me see if I can help.” Nudging me aside, she takes the spatula from me and scrapes the burnt bits from the bottom of my pan, adding in a little broth.
“That doesn’t look better,” I groan, assessing her progress.
“I doubt it’s salvageable,” Chef’s voice announces from directly behind us, and we both startle with a squeal.
“Jesus,” Jade gasps, clutching her chest. “How are you so stealthy?”
Chef harrumphs, turning up his nose as he heads toward the more promising students at the next table over.
I drop my voice to mutter, “That man is scary. How does he move so silently?”
“Definitely a spy,” Jade answers, watching him closely, her eyes narrowed. “You don’t move that quietly without professional training. I bet this whole place is a front.”
I hum in agreement and poke at the concoction in my pot.
He’s right. There really is no saving this chicken.
Sighing, I pick out the pieces, throwing them in the trash while Chef’s back is turned.
I should be vegetarian anyway. If I can’t properly cook meat, maybe that's my sign I shouldn’t be eating it at all.
Jade glances over, noticing what I’m doing, and grins.
“Should we bail?” she asks, hopefully. “I don’t think I want to eat a vegetable pie. Plus, I’m enjoying our trend of starting an activity and then just going drinking instead.”
“Same, honestly.” I square my shoulders and glance at Chef. “Wait until his back is turned and let’s book it?” I whisper conspiratorially.
We’re out the door and halfway across the street before he starts yelling. We’re probably making a bad name for ourselves around town at this rate, but by the time our ride-share drops us off at Twin Pines, we’ve forgotten all about our disastrous cooking class.
It’s busier than it was the last time we were here, the bar nearly full when we slide into two open barstools. Along with Seamus, there’s another bartender today, helping to take orders.
“Hey, Seamus,” I greet him with a wave.
He glances over at us and grins. “Looks like you’ve decided to become regulars again,” he says. “Fantastic! Two dirty martinis?”
“I think we’ll do a bottle of wine today. Red?” I ask Jade.
“Red,” she agrees, nodding.
“We have a Pinot Noir I’m sure you’ll love,” Seamus informs us, already moving across the bar to grab it, knowing we’re not about to turn down one of his recommendations.
The moment he’s out of earshot, Jade turns to me. “Okay, spill. Why do you look like someone kicked your dog?”
“I don’t have a dog,” I mutter, not wanting to get into it. I finally got my mind off seeing Ash with Alec’s wife, and the last thing I want to do is remember it. “And if someone kicked Bea, I think I might murder them.”
“Obviously,” Jade agrees. Seamus returns with two glasses and a bottle of red, opening it for us. “But I can imagine what you would look like if you did have a dog, and someone did kick it. And that’s how I imagine you looking right now.”
“What are we imagining Sydney doing?” Seamus quips. “Loop me in. I’d love to imagine her too.”
I scowl at him. “Quit it. You’re both incorrigible. Can I just have my wine, please and thank you?”
“Of course, beautiful.” He fills our glasses, leaving the bottle when he heads over to take orders from another group.