Chapter 11
ELEVEN
“I won’t ever let you go again.”
Ty’s words were haunting me. Like nasty little snakes, they slithered in and out of my subconscious. They slithered in there so much that my Sunday night had been ruined. Too bad for me, this was the Monday-est Monday of them all.
Once I was out of my house, I made my way next door to Rachel’s.
I had cultivated our friendship enough, and it was time to unleash the extent of my Astridness.
Rachel seemed shy, but we got along well, which meant it was time to take our friendship to the next level.
Good thing people couldn’t read thoughts, or they would think I was a psycho.
I made my way to her house and knocked. When she opened the door, she was already dressed and ready to go.
“Why are you so cool?” It was a rhetorical question. Honestly, I should have started with a hello.
Rachel was currently working on the campaign for the mayor of Willow Grove. He wasn’t a good guy. And I knew this from all the tips about him having an affair that flooded my column. The good guys didn’t cheat. Cheating was like a gateway sin that led you to bigger and more evil things.
Rachel had what I considered a big girl job, so she had to dress the part. Ronnie couldn’t give two shits about what we wore to work as long as we weren’t naked and in sweatpants. He was cool with casual or formal attire.
Rachel is who I aspired to be when I was older. Someone with their shit together, not just financially, but in looks.
She wore high-waisted tan pants that were flared at the bottom.
They were tailored to perfection because she was already wearing her heels, and you could only see one inch of them.
On top, she had a square-neck crop top. If I hadn’t already suspected that Rachel came from money—because, hello, tailoring one’s clothes screamed money—the Hermès belt wrapped around her waist would have been a dead giveaway.
“Good morning, Astrid. How may I help you?”
She was also polite as ever.
“I had a really shitty afternoon yesterday, and I need coffee before I go to work today. I need good coffee, and judging by the smell of the espresso you just brewed, you’ve got the kind of caffeine I need.”
She looked at me, and the eye bags in my eyes, and stepped aside, letting me in.
“Nice pad,” I told her as I took in her house.
The outside was outdated, like most houses around here, but the inside was pure class. It was like an oasis of relaxation.
She had light wooden floors, a cream carpet, and gray sofas. Her walls were a darker shade of gray, and something about the decor just screamed old money.
It was like stepping into a showroom at a furniture store. Meanwhile, my house was a mismatch of things from over the years. I liked to think our house had character.
“Thank you,” she replied softly. “It feels homey.”
“If working for the pervy mayor doesn’t work out, interior design is your calling.”
At that, she smiled.
I followed her to her kitchen, and it was white and black with marble countertops.
It was beautiful.
It was not my style, but it was beautiful all the same.
I was more of a farm-style kind of girly.
On one of the walls, Rachel had a nice coffee bar.
It had three shelves at the top, with glasses and mugs.
On the counter was a chrome Nespresso. Her syrups were in glass jars with labels that said the contents in fancy cursive writing.
“I want to be you when I grow up,” I stated.
“Did you just call me old?” she questioned in good nature.
I immediately shook my head.
“Noooo, it was totally a compliment. You are goals.”
She giggled.
“To-go cups are under the cupboard. I have instant cold foam, or you can use the frother if you have something else in mind.”
“I’ve been preparing for this moment for a while,” I admitted. “Something about watching people make coffee relaxes me.”
She just shrugged this off and instead went to the fridge, opening the bottom part where the frozen items were, and pulled out a small tray.
She had bubble ice.
That was like the ultimate wealth move right there.
I grabbed a clear plastic cup and added about three-fourths of ice, then milk with two pumps of caramel syrup. I brewed a double shot of espresso, and as the aroma filled the air, I couldn’t help but think about the damn hot chocolate.
It was as tasty as I remembered.
After my little tête-à-tête with Ty, I jumped in the shower. I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that he looked like he wanted to kiss me. In fact, it wasn’t the first time my delulu brain had tried to gaslight me into thinking something like that might be going down.
At one point, my brain and my heart were both on Team Ty. Now, it seemed like my heart hated him, but my brain had yet to catch up.
I put the lid on my coffee and added a straw, and then I took a sip and sighed.
“Good?” Rachel asked as she leaned on her kitchen island.
“You have no idea,” I said while I turned to face her. “I love you,” I let her know. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Lupe with all my heart, but it sucks that Sunny Pines has Emma’s, and it’s too out of the way for me to justify making that commute.”
Something flashed in her face when I said Emma’s, but she quickly masked it.
“Well, you’re welcome to have coffee here anytime you’d like.”
At this, I beamed.
“You mean that?”
It was what I was hoping for, but having her bring it up was awesome. I wanted a friend that I didn’t have to feel like I was chasing after. Been there, done that, have the scars on my heart to prove it.
“My home is your home.”
I jumped up and down.
“You won’t regret it,” I told her. “I’m going to be the best friend you’ve ever had.”
Her smile dropped for a second, and then her lips tipped back up.
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever had any friends before,” she admitted.
My mouth went slack at her admission before quickly closing it.
“Well, at least you haven’t experienced the knife they can stick in your back when they betray you. Count yourself lucky. That hurts more than any breakup.”
She tilted her head to the side.
“Endings hurt no matter what,” she told me. “All we can do is grow from them.”
I raised my cup toward her.
“Life lessons can be a real bitch.”
She nodded.
“Hey, do you want to go to Zeke’s on Friday with me? I used to try to sneak in there all the time when I was underage. It would be a shame not to go now that I am legal.”
My eyes were hurting from staring at my screen. I needed to write a piece for the paper. Ronnie wanted something happy and upbeat that the Sunday readers would love. The problem was the disconnect I felt with my town. Happy and upbeat wasn’t something I seemed to be able to muster right now.
“Astrid!”
Speaking of the devil.
I slid out of my cubicle and walked into Ronnie’s office. He didn’t make a show of looking up from his work. He acted like being the editor in chief of this paper was such a hard task that he couldn’t be spared for a few seconds.
It looked like the asshole brought me in to stroke his ego. I waited silently and patiently until he finally deemed it okay to look up at me.
About two minutes later, he gave me his attention.
His eyes briefly scanned my face, then quickly made their way down my body, making me feel slimy.
Voicing this aloud was such a double-edged sword, though.
I wasn’t the prettiest girl in the world, and no one in the office had said a thing about Ronnie.
When you worked with men, you had to tread carefully. I didn’t want to be labeled that girl. Men could be pettier than girls, and I already knew firsthand how badly your reputation could be ruined because of someone else.
“We were invited to the Midwest Reporters Association. It will be held in this state this year, and I want you to go with me.”
At this, I stood a little straighter and perked up at the idea of writing a piece that could actually impact my community.
“Yes, of course. I can’t wait,” I let him know. “And would I have free rein to report on it for my column?”
He gave me a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“We will talk about it later. Just wanted to let you know so you would make sure to be free for that weekend,” he said as he handed me a small invitation to the event.
I said my thanks and began to walk away. Right before I made it through the door, he spoke again.
“Make sure to wear something nice,” he advised me.
Augh, he had to ruin it.
I didn’t even bother to turn around and reassure him I would.
“Everything okay with Ronnie?” Ori asked.
I wanted to talk to someone about what I was feeling, but Oriana had never complained about him, and I was still too cowardly to bring it up first.
“Yeah,” I whispered. “He was just getting on my nerves.”
She nodded, probably still pissed at him for making her leave her story.
“Don’t let him get to you. He just wants to make sure the paper keeps going strong.”
Maybe it was all in my head, judging by the way Ori dismissed him. An annoying guy and a perve were two different things.