Chapter 24
“Lunch? Really?” Cherish looked up at Febe. She finished the sentence she was typing and waited for Febe’s reply. Surely, she had heard Febe wrong. It seemed like a lifetime since they had gone to lunch together.
“Yes.” Febe chuckled, a real laugh that washed fond memories of the past over Cherish’s mind. “You’ve spent far too many lunches grabbing small bites of food while you continued to type away at your keyboard.”
“Not that many.” Cherish’s words were weak, even to her own ears. The lingering hostility between the two of them hadn’t been resolved. It had simply been ignored, as so many other things that continued to slip in between them making the distance greater.
“Do you think I don’t know what’s going on in my own office?” Febe quirked one side of her lip and a single eyebrow.
Such a look had once pulled all the heat in Cherish’s body straight between her legs. And while a smaller flutter still beat beneath her skin, like the wings of a butterfly, the effect was nothing in comparison. Now, without her consent, her eyes flicked over to Haylee’s empty desk, and then to the printing alcove before settling back on her screen. Cherish’s face chilled, blood rushed from her head, skipped over her hips and rushed in a pool all the way down to her toes.
“Come on, Cherry.” Febe’s laugh snapped Cherish’s head up and their eyes met. “Let me take you to lunch.”
“And what about the phones?”
“I’ve already redirected them.”
“You…” Cherish’s jaw dropped.
“Yes.” Febe didn’t laugh this time and behind her eyes was a worried sadness that formed a lump in Cherish’s throat. “I know it’s been a while since I’ve bothered to do some things. And I’m sorry for that. But I do still remember how.”
Cherish nodded deliberately and slowly as her eyebrows pulled together. She might be buying herself time, or she might be entirely unsure how to think at all. Either way, she locked her computer.
“Sure. Where are we going?” Cherish hoped she was the only one who heard the scraped sound of her words as she forced them over the lump that hadn’t entirely moved on yet.
“Le Rochelle’s, of course.”
The name solidified the lump in her throat. Of all the places. Of course Febe would know her favorite—damn her. The original bet with Haylee reared its ugly head and guilt swirled in Cherish’s empty stomach. She had been starving and had even gone so far as to think about ordering some delivery. Now, she headed to her favorite restaurant with Febe and probably wouldn’t even be able to eat a single bite.
“If that’s all right?”
Cherish forced a smile and nodded again. She could have declined, but Febe would ask why. The guilt churned like the sea in a storm, and her hands shook as she reached for the office door.
Febe caught her eyes.
“Oh Cherry, relax.” Febe misread the worry in Cherish’s eyes as she grabbed her assistant’s arm and linked it with her own. Cherish must have made a sound, maybe a squeak. “No one is around. I don’t have to be the ice bitch all the time, do I?”
Cherish shook her head, her smile relaxing a little more. Maybe this could work to her advantage.
The drive relaxed Cherish’s shoulders and pushed the lump down her throat so that she could make some small talk with Febe. But the moment they pulled up at Le Rochelle’s the knots in Cherish’s shoulders wound up and tightened more than they had in a while now. The headache started again, pulling her shoulders up and straight into the base of her skull.
Febe allowed the valet to open her door and passed them the keys without question. Cherish gaped open mouthed. This was Bernie’s car. Febe never let anyone touch it.
“I know.” Febe called over her shoulder as she swiveled in her seat, legs now out of the door. “But it’s not her. It’s just a car in the end.”
Cherish had to shake herself out of her confusion.
Despite her own concerns about what this lunch might mean, about the guilt over a bet concerning her friend, her chest swelled at the sight of a friend she hadn’t seen for far too long. And she was definitely not referring to the ice bitch boss everyone else seemed to see when they looked at Febe. This was her caring and deeply emotional friend, the one who put on a front because she was scared to let anyone in.
Despite having worked for her for this long, having seen and heard some things Cherish herself hadn’t always agreed with, she still found it impossible to truly see the apparent ice bitch.
Sure, Febe had come across cold and firm, but there had always been purpose and reason behind her demand to be taken seriously, especially as a woman running a business. That was something Cherish had never faulted Febe for.
Cherish’s breath caught as they stepped into the foyer. There was a reason the place had the best reputation, and why it had pushed Cherish over on the bet. A dinner at Le Rochelle’s would win any woman’s heart.
Or so Cherish had once thought.
She had naturally thought it had to be every woman’s swoonworthy dream because the woman she had wanted to make swoon over her loved it here. The woman who strode alongside her now. The same woman who had introduced her to the fine dining of the rich and powerful.
Cherish wanted to roll her eyes at herself. Her thoughts returned to Haylee once more. She imagined Haylee would be just as happy in comfy clothes, some trash on the TV, and a pizza delivered by Sel’s. The idea shocked her as something she missed from home, that easy comfort of calm simple nights.
“Cherish?” Febe asked, concern etched on her face, her head angled slightly to catch Cherish’s eyes with her own. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah.” Cherish laughed, and oh it felt so nice, the warm genuineness of it relaxing her more than the drive had. “Just reminiscing about the good old days.”
“Oh?” Febe smiled with curiosity and sadness.
Emotions flitted across Febe’s cheeks, but the distance between it and Febe’s smile brought relief to Cherish. Febe spoke to the tall woman who stood at the podium. The woman was stunning, but a little too thin for Cherish’s liking. Frowning, Cherish looked from the woman to Febe. They were quite well matched in size and shape. Cherish groaned. When had Haylee become such a fixture in her mind that every conversation, every thought became a comparison?
Determined to be present with Febe for lunch, Cherish continued their conversation as they were led to a table by the swaying hips of the too-thin hostess.
The meal was pleasant, and Cherish was able to force her thoughts to remain in the moment, and on Febe. But as they waited for coffee as a substitute for dessert, Febe made all of Cherish’s hard work unravel in one simple question.
“How is Haylee working out?”
Cherish couldn’t have been more grateful that she didn’t have a mouthful of coffee, because she had little doubt she would have spit it across the table and directly into Febe’s face. Sucking in a sharp breath, Cherish debated how she could get out of answering this line of questioning.
“What do you mean?” Was it just her or did her voice sound as though she had just screamed for several hours? In the throes of bliss with her…with her what? Girlfriend? Fuck buddy? Coworker with benefits? None of it sat right with her.
“With the job.”
“Oh.” Cherish pulled in her eyebrows. Would Febe finally bring up the elephant in the room? “She’s been fine. A little quieter since…”
“Ah.” Febe nodded, both eyebrows rising as she folded her hands delicately one over the other on the table in front of her.
So maybe the elephant just rolled over and went back to sleep.
It had been forever, at least it seemed that way, since things crept up between them. The beginning of those things being Bernie’s death. Had Bernie truly been the thing that kept Febe human and reachable?
Pain lanced in Cherish’s chest, the pain behind her eyes beginning its slow tempo. But it wouldn’t be long until it raced through her skull uncontrollably. Tiredness washed over her, tiredness from everything she had done and everything she had worked toward.
“I’m sorry.” The words slipped out, unexpectedly for both of them if the shock written on Febe’s face was anything to go by.
“What for?” Febe asked, confirming what Cherish had seen in her eyes and the scrunch of her features.
“For what I said in your office.”
At that moment, their coffee arrived, and Cherish wanted to both kill and kiss the short pixie-haired waitress who delivered them.
“Thank you,” Febe looked up, reading her name tag, “Geena.”
Cherish’s heart rattled a little in her chest. It had been so long since she had seen this Febe. The one who always thanked the staff no matter where they were. She hoped Febe hadn’t lost that beautiful way of hers, but she hadn’t seen it because their monthly lunches had ended with that two-in-the-morning phone call. Two words that broke everything.
She’s gone.
“Cherry.” Febe reached over the table and placed her hand over Cherish’s. The touch stilled Cherish into silence, the feeling of Febe’s smooth fingers on hers so tender. It felt misplaced after all this time. “I didn’t bring you to lunch for an apology.”
“Then why did you?”
“Because your brother told me if I wanted our friendship back, I would have to be the one to mend it.”
Cherish’s body sank in the chair. Confusion and hurt washed over her. Fuck Stuart for meddling. Again. That hadn’t been why she’d called him.
“Don’t.” Febe shook her head, pity in those crystal blue eyes. “Stop whatever bad thing you’re thinking right now.”
“You didn’t want to mend it until you spoke to him?”
“Of course I did,” Febe said. “I just never realized I had made it so hard for you to reach out to me.”
“You needed to work through it in your own way.” Cherish looked down at her coffee, wishing Febe would let go of her hand. Steam still swirled from the surface as if nothing had changed. As if tears didn’t sting Cherish’s eyes.
“Yes, I did.” Febe pulled her hand away and picked up her drink. Cherish trembled as she sipped her own coffee and closed her eyes, pretending to indulge in the rich smooth blend. But she couldn’t stop her mind from spinning.
“So what changed?” Cherish didn’t want to ask it, not really. She had no doubts what the answer would be, but she had to hear it.
“Our heated conversation in my office.” Febe’s smile let Cherish know her own thoughts were written all over her face. “I called Stuart and complained about the entire thing, and in true Stuart fashion, he listened like a saint. Then after a few calming words to make me think I wasn’t entirely unjustified in my anger, poured a bucket of cold water on me. So to speak.”
Despite the rotten twisted fear in her stomach, Cherish couldn’t hold back the laugh. “Oh yeah, that’s Stuart to a T.”
Febe nodded and chuckled along for a moment.
“So did he suggest lunch? Did he tell you to wait long enough for the tension in the office to dissipate a little?” It seemed to be the truth already, but the coffee turned to ash on her tongue, and she wanted to escape this conversation at the first opportunity.
“No. The idea was entirely my own.”
Cherish wanted to say something, but she truly didn’t know how to react to Febe’s openness. She fumbled with her cup on the table, cursing herself silently that she didn’t have better control. This woman always tore that from her in seconds flat. How did she manage it?
“So, how is Haylee?”
Cherish played with the dainty handle of the coffee cup, her stomach demanding she cut off her hand if she tried to force another sip of coffee at this moment. “She’s been a little distant for the last week or so.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why?” Cherish narrowed her eyes.
Febe tilted her head, eyebrows raising as though Cherish shouldn’t have asked that question, but she had to. Was this Febe’s way of letting Cherish know it was time to hire yet another new assistant?
“Are you firing her?” Was that a tremble in Cherish’s voice?
“No.” Febe pushed her shoulders back in her chair. Cherish only barely managed to hold back the smirk. This had always been one of Febe’s tells. It was the waving of a flag, saying, all right, let’s get serious.
“Why are you apologizing then? I thought this wasn’t an apology lunch.”
Febe sighed heavily, her shoulders dropping now. “I’m apologizing to my friend who is hurting because our relationship hasn’t been what it should be. I’m sorry I haven’t been here.”
They fell into a gentle companionship. Cherish wanted to tell Febe it was okay, that she understood, but Febe wasn’t wrong. The hurt was there, and in this moment, it was stark and painful. Febe finished her coffee and set it on the table, eyeing Cherish over.
“Concerning our argument, I need to know that Haylee is passionate about the project and why. When we decided to add a specialty for the queer community—your idea—I understood your passion for it. Haylee hasn’t given me any reason to think she’ll stick around to see this project out. And with her work history…” Febe trailed off.
Cherish understood. She’d had those same thoughts, and even with knowing a bit more of the story than Febe did, she still questioned why this was so important for Haylee.
“There has to be passion,” Febe added.
“I know.”
“Is there a family member of hers who served? Someone who died? A friend perhaps?”
“I don’t know. She doesn’t exactly talk about her family much. Just her brother.” Cherish nervously wrung her hands together under the table.
“And that’s the problem.” Febe gently lowered her cup to the saucer when she realized it was empty, the tiniest clatter of sound echoed. “Do you remember how Bernie always was? She damn near glowed when she talked about her ideas for the foundation.” Tears filled Febe’s gaze. “You couldn’t shut her up about the things she was passionate about.”
“Yeah, I remember.” That age-old ache for Bernie hit Cherish hard and unexpectedly. She hated when it did that. She hated that Bernie had created so much hurt all because she wasn’t here anymore.
“Can you honestly tell me Haylee shows the same level of passion? Or even a similar passion?” Febe crossed her arms, her gaze direct on Cherish.
“No.” The word she forced out of her lungs was a betrayal. She knew it as soon as she spoke.
Cherish continued to stare at her almost full coffee she knew would be left behind despite how amazing it tasted. “I’ll talk to her.”
Febe stood and gave Cherish a small wink. “We better be back in the office before some headstrong therapist decides they run the business instead of me.”
Cherish did as she always did. She dutifully followed.