Chapter 17
A mistake was made when I allowed myself to be vulnerable in front of Benoit Bardot.
I keep making mistakes with that man, keep allowing him access to me in a way that I’ve never allowed anyone else.
It’s infuriating.
It’s… intoxicating.
It cannot happen again.
Which is why after coming home from Bardot family dinner the other night, I immediately got on my dating app and found someone to go to the Bardot Brothers Coffee Co. grand opening with.
Because things with Ben make sense to me.
Well, they used to make sense to me. I had him in this box in my brain labeled “NEMESIS” in all caps.
He was tucked onto a shelf with all of the other boxes with labels like “WORK IDIOT” and “GYM GIRL.” Everyone fit nicely inside of their box, and I knew what to expect of them.
Until he fucked it up. He doesn’t feel so nemesis-y anymore, and that’s messing up my boxes. So, naturally, I’m going to do my best to get him firmly back where he belongs. Keep his identity as the high school rival that I was always competing with.
Was I though?
Looking back, I’m even more confused. Was I the only one actually competing?
The thought irks me.
That feeling like I’m missing something, some big, important thing that everyone else is in on, but I don’t have the ability to put it together the same way.
It’s one of the reasons I did mourn my friendship with Maya when it ended. At least I could always count on her to be straightforward with me. To catch me up on whatever social cues I was missing, even if she didn’t realize that’s what she was doing.
There’s a large jigsaw puzzle in pieces on my coffee table. It’s an apt metaphor for my life, which is currently also in pieces. I’ve gotten the edges put together when there’s a knock on my door. Ernest hops off the couch, scrambling over to the door to greet my date.
Connor technically lives in the next town over, but I had to adjust my radius after my last date. The pool of eligible, and age appropriate, people in Sassafras is miniscule. He was a good sport when I suggested trying out a new coffee shop for our date.
I open the door to reveal an aesthetically attractive man.
He’s about a head taller than me with light brown hair and glasses.
His voice is a deep timbre when he greets me before turning his attention to Ernest. “Cute dog,” he comments, bending down to scratch under his chin. “When did he have his leg amputated?”
“Before I got him,” I reply. “Wait right here, let me grab my shoes and then we can go.”
They should have already finished the ribbon cutting ceremony by now. I didn’t feel like I should be there for that part of the day. I don’t think I could handle feeling like an intrusion on such an important event.
Turning off the episode of Dateline I had on as background noise, I slip into my Doc Martens that take me three times to put on properly so the sock line doesn’t bunch against my toes.
Today I’ve paired them with cutoff jean shorts and a crop tank top.
The midsummer heat wave has been rough on someone as chronically overheated as I am.
When I get back to the front door, Connor is standing there awkwardly staring into the space. “It’s kind of dark in here.”
I have no idea how to respond to that, so I just say, “Yup,” before moving past him out of the apartment.
“Does your dog just roam free while you’re gone?” he asks.
“Ernest is a good boy,” I reply. “He won’t get into any trouble.”
Connor shoves his hands into his pockets, nodding. “I’ve always heard it’s better for them to be in a crate during the day.”
Again, I don’t know what to say. It’s not like I’m going to take advice from this man that I’ve only just met. “Do you have any pets?” I ask. Maybe he’s a secret dog trainer and that’s why he feels the need to comment on mine.
“No pets. I’m a lifelong learner though, so I was listening to a podcast the other day about how to best train your dog.”
I’m proud of the restraint I’m exercising in not rolling my eyes. “Yeah, but it’s a little different listening to a podcast about something versus actually doing the thing.”
He doesn’t take my hint to shut up, instead launching into a spiel about how many different things he’s learned from podcasts. I bet he’s one of those men that feels confident that he would be able to pilot a plane without any actual training.
The good news is his podcast diatribe lasts until we park in front of the brand new Bardot Brothers Coffee Co., preventing me from having to make small talk. Really, he should start his own podcast about how much he loves podcasts.
Getting out of the car, I see there’s a line out the door and a group of people crowded outside with branded coffee cups already in their hands.
I feel a sense of pride looking around at the grand opening hoopla.
For Jules, obviously.
Not for Ben.
“There’s no way this coffee is good enough to wait in that line,” Connor says, setting me on the defensive.
“It’s really good, actually,” I reply, walking to the end of the line, mad that this man just made me give a compliment in Ben’s general direction.
We wait in line, Connor making small talk while I add in the occasional mhmm, “for sure,” and “yeah” so he thinks I’m listening.
What I’m actually doing is watching Benoit—in his slutty glasses—be stupidly competent at running a bustling business. It’s hot. It’s pissing me off.
He’s taking orders while Jules is making the coffee.
Ben is effortless as he interacts with each person, chatting with them just long enough to keep drinks moving at a steady pace for Jules.
It’s impressive, watching how well they work together.
If you really pay attention, you see the signs of their twin telepathy.
A small nod from Jules has Ben wrapping up a conversation or Ben’s hands grip the register which prompts Jules to take over with a certain customer.
It would be fascinating to have that kind of connection with someone.
I’m so caught up in their back and forth, it takes me a moment to realize that Ben is staring back at me through the window. He has a stupid grin on his face, and I’m fighting hard to make sure mine isn’t sporting a matching one. We stand there like that for one breath… two.
And then Ben’s face contorts. I’m confused for a moment before I catch my reflection in the window. Before I see that Connor’s hand has come to the small of my back and is urging me forward in line. For the first time, I think I might have fucked up by bringing a date.
Ben flags down Gabe to take over the register, right as we walk into the shop. He explains a few things to Gabe and then rounds the corner, heading straight in our direction.
“Red.” He dips his head in greeting. “Glad you could make it.”
“The place looks great,” I reply, watching as Ben eyes Connor. “Oh, this is—”
“Connor Page. Nice to meet you.” Connor sticks out his hand for a shake, Ben grasping it a little too hard.
He doesn’t reply to Connor, instead turning to face me, and I ready myself for whatever he’s about to say. “Odd choice.”
Odd choice?
“I—” Connor starts, pausing when Ben lifts a hand in his direction.
“Don’t be rude, Benjamin,” I snap.
He shrugs his shoulders. “I’m just saying.” He turns and gives Connor another once over. “Looks a bit like the bargain version.”
“The bargain version of what?” Connor asks, obviously having a hard time keeping up with our conversation.
“Of me.” Ben winks.
“Oh for fuck’s—”
Connor looks between the two of us, interrupting with, “Am I missing something?”
Ben claps Connor on the shoulder. “You, I’m assuming, are missing a lot of things, Conrad.”
“It’s Connor,” he replies, peeling Ben’s hand off of him.
“Doesn’t matter.” Ben rubs his hands together. “I won’t ever see you again, anyway. Gotta get back to work.” He points his finger at me as he slowly backs up.
“Don’t say it,” I plead.
He opens his mouth, closing it just as quickly with a flex of his jaw. “Once he’s run off, you stay,” Ben commands.
“No,” I retort.
But I do.
Connor stays long enough to get a cup of coffee and then makes up some excuse about how he completely forgot he was meeting his grandma this afternoon. I don’t look at Ben when Connor leaves, but I can feel him watching me.
I find a seat by the window, continuing to observe the shop operations.
Thea and Chloe come over and sit with me for a while before they both decide it’s time for a nap.
Gabe brings his computer by at some point so we can get my first few shifts scheduled in the coming weeks.
Elaine even sits with me for a while, talking all-things psychology and my shift from the engineering world.
The entire time I feel Ben’s gaze. Every time I look up, he’s watching. He’s not even a little bit subtle about it.
I hate that it’s comforting.
I hate that it’s familiar.
And, most of all, I hate that I don’t hate his attention on me.
Eventually, though, I realize I need to go home and let Ernest out. Maybe take a bath. Maybe make sure my vibrator is charged.
Or maybe…
As if he can sense my impending departure, Ben takes another break from behind the counter, dropping into the seat across from me.
His long legs take up so much space. The veins on his forearms are bulging as he folds his arms together and leans toward me. “Thanks for coming today.” The sincerity in his voice has me looking up to meet his eyes. “Even though you brought Bargain Basement Benoit with you.”
“He likes podcasts,” I groan, knowing he’ll understand my lament.
“Gross.” Ben wrinkles his nose. “At least listen to an audiobook.”
That makes me laugh. A real, deep belly laugh. Something I didn’t even know I was capable of. And fuck, Ben’s face lights up.
“Come over tonight,” he says, eyes searching mine. Back and forth, back and forth.
“I can’t,” I reply.
His shoulders slump so minutely I barely notice it happen. “Another date?”
“Yeah…” I watch Ben tense—maybe it’s a little bit fun torturing him. “With Ernest,” I finish.
“Ernest,” Ben repeats. “Your dog.”
“Mhmm,” I nod. “But… you could come over to mine?”
Ben responds in a similar manner to when Ernest is offered a treat. He instantly perks up, his head notching to the side. “Yes,” he replies, planting his large hands on the table and pushing himself up. “I’ll… I’ll text you. After I’m done. But I’m walking away now before you change your mind.”
I chuckle to myself. “Goodbye, Benjamin. See you later.”
His goofy smile is back. “See you later, Red.”