28. 28
I check my phone for the seven thousandth time in the span of the forty-five-minute meeting, Mitchel giving me the side eye as the client asks a question I don’t hear.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“While yes, it does increase the cost some, bathrooms can be extremely difficult to add in later considering plumbing needs. I know it seems like an extravagance, considering it’s just the two of you that will be living in the home, but when people visit they’ll find comfort in having the bathroom in the room. It also allows for if an adult child ever needs to move back in, they can have their own suite. Or if you have live in help. It’s a huge selling point if you ever need to put the house on the market,” Mitchel says, saving me. “You can never have too many bathrooms.”
“I think he’s right, babe,” the blonde woman in the tight pink dress tells her husband, laying a hand on his forearm.
“Okay, let’s do that then. Was there anything else we were needing to make a decision on today?” he asks, checking his Rolex with impatience.
“No, that’s all for now. We are going to get a few permits in line, submit the plans to the city. All the formalities. Once we have everything back, we’ll break ground.”
“This is so amazing,” she says, clapping her perfectly manicured hands, the light catching on her giant diamond ring. I stand from the table, everyone following my lead.
“Mitchel has everything under control on your house. And I will personally be calling the city to see if we can expedite a few of the steps. They know we offer quality in every step, so we can normally fast track a few things.”
I reach out and shake both of their hands. Splitting off to my office while Mitchel shows them out, I check my phone once more and the lack of a text makes me crazy. After our night together, which turned into an incredible morning, and the agreement to remain friends, I’m trying not to let my seeming obsession overtake me.
All this weekend did was strengthen my conviction I want to attempt a relationship with Anya, but if she wants to be friends, that’s what we’ll do.
No matter how much it kills me.
“What the fuck, dude,” Mitchel says, shutting the door as he joins me. “They are spending five fucking million dollars and you wouldn’t stop checking your phone. Which is happening almost constantly since you got back from the wedding the other day. ”
“I might have hooked up with someone and I gave her my phone number and I’m waiting to hear from her,” I tell him, leaning back in my chair.
“Well, well, well. You little slut,” he says, shimming his shoulders. “Someone from the resort? How did you meet her?”
“It was a wedding guest.”
“Oh?”
“Lorelei brought Anastasia.”
“The girl from the show?” I nod. “The wife is rooting for her to win, you know. The press prefers Carmen, but she and you would never pair together long term.”
I drag my hands down my face before letting out a growl of frustration.
“Does everyone watch this stupid show? I swear I didn’t realize how many people were going to watch it. The cleaning guy the other day stopped me in the bathroom to tell me how stupid I was for sending Jasmine home. I was just trying to take a piss!”
“We just want to support you. You know that. Do we need to start hiring more hermits? Perhaps send a company wide memo to not talk about it?” he asks, suppressed laughter on his face.
“You’re fired.”
“You can’t fire me because you can’t stop looking at your phone for five seconds to even listen to a client.”
“Why are you in my office?”
“We need to go over the progress updates for the week.”
My hand reaches for my phone, but I successfully stop myself, keeping the slightest shred of my dignity, and focus on Mitchel once more .
Five minutes before close, I sit outside the bakery, knuckles white as I grip the steering wheel. I’ve been staring at the front door for the past ten minutes, but I can’t bring myself to get out.
“Just go in there. Just get out of the car,” I say to myself in the, thankfully, empty truck. “Open the door. Open the door. Do it. Do it now.”
My hand reaches out to the door handle, finally breaking through my nerves, and I make my way up to the bakery, remembering the hot kiss Anya and I shared the last time I was here. As I reach for the door, a man walks out.
His silk shirt is peacock blue, unbuttoned to below his sternum. A thick chain hangs round his neck with a diamond studded seventeen. Even without pads and a helmet on, I know Miles Lawson when I see him.
“Amazing catch the other day,” I say as I pass by him, through the door he holds open for me. It’s probably a regular occurrence to see Dom’s teammates around here wanting to support his sister.
“Thank you for saying that. Our quarterback put up an amazing toss,” he says before releasing the door and heading on his way.
A kid stands behind the counter, his mouth hanging open and a napkin in his frozen hand.
“You alright, kid?” I ask him, hoping he hasn’t gone into shock or something.
“That was Miles Lawson. He signed this for me. He shook my hand .” Awe drips from every word and I understand the feeling. My father took me to a few training camp sessions for the professional football team in Illinois. We would go for a few days and watch the teams practice, most of the players giving autographs and taking pictures after they were done for the day .
“His hand was huge!” he says with a giant smile on his face, before suddenly realizing I might need some help. “Oh, hi. Welcome to the Whimsical Whisk Bakery. Unfortunately, we are sold out today, but I can give you a coupon for another day for the inconvenience. We’ve been really busy since the owner was on some dating show. My mom watched it, but she said I wasn’t allowed to.” He rolls his eyes to show me what he thought of that rule and I try not to smile, liking the kid. “It’s not like I don’t know what boyfriends and girlfriends do. I have a girlfriend and we even kiss sometimes.”
“Kissing is a lot of fun, but maybe there are some other things she didn’t want you to see. Those shows aren’t really good for showing what relationships are really like.”
“Yeah, maybe. Were you wanting that coupon?”
“Actually, I was here looking for Anastasia. Is she here?”
“She’s in the back. She’s really popular today. Are you going to ask her out, too?” He takes off his apron and hits a few buttons on the iPad before moving to the front door and flipping the sign to closed.
“Too?” I ask.
“Yeah, Miles asked Anastasia out on a date.”
“He did? What did she say?” Equal parts jealousy and nerves hit me with such a power, I almost get lightheaded.
“I don’t know. She made me go in the back and wash dishes, but I told her to not let him leave before I could get an autograph. But I listened at the door and heard him ask her. I couldn’t hear her, though. Don’t tell her I was spying, okay? I don’t want to get fired. I really like this job.”
“It’ll be our little secret,” I promise. “Do you think you could go get her for me?”
“Sure! I’ll be right back. ”
He goes through the swinging door to the back room and I hear him call out to Anastasia.
“Anya, another guy is here to see you,” the shop boy says.
“What’s his name?” she says.
Hearing her voice makes my insides twist and I shove my shaking hands into my pockets. Maybe Courtney was right about how I’ve never had to work for women before. I don’t think I have ever been this nervous. Even when I asked Brittany out for the first time, I didn’t have a single nervous flutter in my entire body.
But now? I’m nothing but nervous flutters.
“I don’t know, I didn’t ask.”
“What does he look like?”
“Tall. Blond. Kind of like a biker that’s all dressed up for work.”
I smile at the kid’s assessment of me and it calms me. That is, until she pushes through the door. All I can hear is her moaning in pleasure and I have to focus everything I have on not getting hard.
“Parker? What are you doing here?” Her cheeks pinken and I have to redouble my efforts to think of anything except our time together.
Willing my body to relax, I give her the smile that has always made women melt.
“I was in the area and thought maybe I could take you to an early dinner or something. You know, as friends.”
“Oh, I actually have plans tonight,” she says, wringing the towel in her hands.
“No, you don’t. You were telling my mom earlier how you were going to get ahead on the baking for tomorrow.”
She looks at her employee, glaring.
“Those are plans, Liam. ”
“Not fun plans,” he grumbles and I have to trap my laugh as she puts her hands on her hips, giving him a no nonsense look.
“Shouldn’t you be heading home? Your mom will kill me if you’re late again.”
“Crap!” he says, before diving under the counter, coming up with a backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. “Nice to meet you.” He pushes through the door, sprinting off to the left.
“He’s funny,” I tell her, wishing I could kiss her lips and we could finish what we started the last time we were here.
“He’s a pain in my ass. But I love him. I really do have things to do tonight. I keep selling out since the third episode aired last night and I’m trying to get things ready tonight so I can bake more tomorrow morning,” she says, apologetic.
My heart drops, but I try not to show my disappointment.
“No problem. It was super last minute anyway. Just thought I’d ask. Have a good night.”
I turn toward the front door, keeping my body relaxed. Unbothered. A friend wouldn’t have their heart fall into their stomach at a rejection.
“I was going to run to the store later,” she says, stopping me as I start to push the door open. I turn my head back to her, willing her to continue. “I didn’t order enough of a few things. I’m still trying to get a grip on the new demand, so I need to go to the grocery store. We could go now, if you want.”
“You want me to go grocery shopping with you?” I ask.
“Friends go shopping together. I just need to grab a few things. You don’t have to go, I just thought I’d ask.” I see doubt creep onto her face and want to squash it immediately.
“Yes, let’s go grocery shopping. Do you want me to drive? ”
“That’d be great. Let me grab my purse.”
She goes into the back as I grab my keys from my pocket. I wish I had brought a change of clothes to the office so I wasn’t still in my uptight work clothes, but I can’t seem to care.
I’m with Anastasia and that’s all that matters.
The store is bustling with people stopping by before heading home from work. Everyone has a frenzied air about them, like they want to go in, grab what they need, and leave. But Anastasia takes her time. She lets people cut her off or anticipates their movements and stops short, allowing them an unimpeded path.
One of the wheels on the cart I’m pushing is spinning like a top and completely useless while another one randomly gets stuck, making an annoying noise as it drags across the floor.
“I think you picked the most messed up cart in the whole bunch,” I tell her as she reaches up for a thing of honey, her shirt riding up and letting me see an inch of her skin.
Only an inch, but an inch is enough to make my mouth water.
“You could have grabbed another one, but you were distracted by that balloon.”
“It looked like a penis and I was shocked they’d sell it.”
“It was obviously a mushroom.”
“A penis mushroom.”
“You’re ridiculous,” she says, putting the honey in the cart before making her way down the aisle. A woman passes us and her eyes widen as she does a double take, but luckily, she doesn’t say anything.
I should have considered people might recognize us. It happened a bit after the finale of House of Deceit .
No one else pays us any attention as we go through aisle after aisle. I’m surprised by the normalcy of the entire situation. I realize I haven’t been grocery shopping with another person since long before Brittany and I got divorced. We would go together on Sundays when we first got married, but eventually, she got tired of my impatience to leave and I got tired of her needing to read every single label.
After a particularly nasty fight in the middle of a store, we decided it would be best if she shopped on her own and I would make sure to bring everything in from the car and put it all away where it belonged. It worked for us, but I see now the casual intimacy we lost in not doing such a task together.
But Anya could read every label twice and I wouldn’t care.
“So Miles Lawson was at your shop today. That’s pretty cool,” I say with exactly zero preamble. She looks at me over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow.
“He’s my brother’s teammate. They come around every once in a while.”
“In silk shirts?” I mumble under my breath, feeling childish for being jealous.
She turns around, putting a hand out to stop the cart, making people break around us with scoffs.
“Go ahead and ask,” she says in an accusatory voice.
“Ask what?” I say, trying to feign ignorance, but I can tell she sees right through me. I know I’m going to regret this, but my jealousy won’t let me move off this path. “You’re going out with him, huh?”
“I haven’t decided. He broke up with his girlfriend while we were filming, but I’m not really sure about it. ”
“Friend to friend, you should go. He seems cool in the interviews I’ve seen.” I’ve been possessed. That’s the only explanation for the suggestion coming out of my mouth. I want her to sit at home and pine for me until she finally gives in and lets me take her out.
“Fine. Maybe I will. It’s not like there’s any reason I should say no.”
Her nostrils flare and I can tell I’m barreling down a dangerous path, with warning signs flashing, but I continue anyway. Like a complete and utter moron.
“Good.”
“Good.” She turns away from me in a huff.
At, possibly the worst time, another woman walks past us that looks like she should be in a swimsuit magazine and gives me a thorough look before winking at me.
I can see the flare of jealousy in Anya and the raging beast of a man inside me swells with pride while the civilized part of me is annoyed I enjoy it. Especially after I was the one that suggested she actually go out with Miles.
A hypocrite through and through.
“Looks like you could have a date of your own if you wanted,” she says, sniffing with indignation and turning around, stomping through the crowd to get to the next thing on her list.
The shopping trip continues and we start talking again, but now the conversation is stiff and stilted and I hate myself for ruining our outing with my jealousy.