Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
JOEY
“Feeling a bit more human, now?” asked Joey, seeing some colour flow to Vanessa’s cheeks for the first time that morning.
Not the first time, she reflected. That had been the crushing embarrassment shortly after Joey had woken her. This was something healthier.
“Ha, yes thanks,” said Vanessa. “I’m so sorry about last night. I’m never usually such a lush. God, this is good,” she added, tearing another piece off the Napolitana.
“Mmm, so much better than a pain au chocolat, don’t you think?” said Joey.
“Totally,” agreed Vanessa. “The chocolate’s creamier. The whole thing just feels altogether more indulgent.”
“From Naples originally, hence the name,” said Joey, “but a real staple here.”
“But really, though. I am sorry about last night. Thanks for getting me home.” Vanessa looked uncomfortable as she spoke.
Joey reached out her hand and patted Vanessa’s arm, briefly. “Don’t sweat it. It happens to us all.” She pulled her fingers back quickly, reminded of the moment Vanessa had instigated the night before.
“Not you, though,” said Vanessa. “You don’t drink, right?”
Joey gave her a wink. “Well I used to, so you can imagine there might have been a reason for me to stop. But you were fine. I got you to your front door and you clearly managed to get yourself into your apartment from there.”
Vanessa looked oddly relieved. Joey wondered whether she was remembering the moment when Joey had really thought they were about to kiss. She was probably pleased it hadn’t happened. There was no way Joey was Vanessa’s type. She was so luminous and outgoing. Joey was none of those things.
And besides, Joey didn’t do relationships.
A bit like booze. But she couldn’t help but remember the long, tanned legs that had greeted her at Vanessa’s front door that morning, stretching out beneath the sweatshirt she wore.
Even suffering what looked like an epic hangover, she still looked effortlessly beautiful, her hair tousled around her heart-shaped face.
Since when did Joey notice she shape of people’s faces?
Probably better than dwelling on the legs, she reckoned. God, those legs.
“Well, thanks for being chivalrous,” said Vanessa. “I think I’m over the worst of the hangover now, too.”
Joey emerged from her reverie. “Grand. The bakery will do that. It’s a kind of kill or cure, if you will.”
“Well, here’s to being alive,” said Vanessa, holding up her coffee glass.
“Cheers,” said Joey, clinking their cups.
Vanessa smiled. “I’m going to join one of Dani’s language classes so I can work on my Spanish.”
“Really?” said Joey, feeling genuine surprise.
“Si,” replied Vanessa.
“Muy bien,” said Joey. Maybe Vanessa wasn’t someone who was going to drift in and out again without taking care to learn anything meaningful.
The rest of the morning passed without incident, and after lunch Vanessa left for her lesson. Joey helped Carmen with the customers.
Once Joey finished work mid-afternoon, the rest of the day was hers. Her first port of call was always a shower to wash away the sweat of the bakery.
She stepped into the cooling water, letting it stream down her face and shoulders. She began washing her arms, her face, her hair. As she drew her hands down her torso her thoughts went unbidden to Vanessa, to last night. To the woman who looked as if she was about to throw herself at Joey.
Joey would never have let her. Of course not.
She was far too inebriated. But nonetheless, she couldn’t resist her curiosity.
What would it have been like to kiss those lips, to run her hands along those smooth, gorgeous legs?
She knew that Vanessa had only acted that way because she was drunk. But still.
Her body began to respond to her thoughts in a way that hadn’t happened in a long time. She imagined the relentlessly cheerful woman pressing her against the wall of the shower. But then she remember the relief in Vanessa’s face when she realised nothing had happened last night.
Joey stepped out of the shower and rubbed her hair vigorously with an old, rough towel.
Yes. Vanessa had been drunk. Why on earth would she look at Joey?
A woman like that could have anyone she wanted.
And Joey, well, Joey didn’t do relationships.
They didn’t end well. She had decided long ago to avoid things that didn’t serve her.
As she dressed, Joey reminded herself of the last time she’d let someone in.
The last time she’d been in a shower with another person, allowed herself to be vulnerable with another person.
She shook her head. No. She wasn’t ever going to let that happen again.
She pulled on some shorts and looked down at the anchor tattoo on her ankle – an anchor on a rope, intertwined with a shield.
A timely reminder. She had to be true to herself.
She picked up a book and a glass of ice-cold water and sat on the balcony.
The height of the buildings meant she was in shade as she escaped into the fictional fantasy world of the vampire series she was working her way through.
There was something freeing about these kinds of stories.
They were so far from her reality, and featured strong, heroic women who didn’t give a damn what anyone else thought of them.