Chapter Thirteen
“How are you feeling?” Sawyer asked her sister as she set the pizza box down on the counter of Courtney’s kitchen, along with the container of chicken wings.
“Like a fucking beached whale who’s not allowed to sleep. Like, ever.” Courtney’s house was open concept, so Sawyer could see her from the kitchen even as she sat on the couch with her feet up and a pillow shoved behind the small of her back.
“I’m sorry. You want pizza?”
“Is the Pope Catholic? Of course I want fucking pizza.”
“I see Mom was right when she said your discomfort has done wonders for your language,” Sawyer said with a soft laugh.
“Fuck you.” Courtney held up her middle finger.
Sawyer laughed louder as she slid two slices onto a plate, added some wings, poured a glass of water, and delivered them to her sister. “I’m having wine, just so you know,” she said.
“And fuck you again.”
“You’re lovely when you’re pregnant. I can’t wait for you to have a dozen more kids.”
“When hell freezes over.” Courtney took a bite of her pizza as Sawyer sat down next to her and handed her a napkin.
“Good?”
Courtney hummed as she chewed. “Heavenly. I am a bottomless pit. If I could eat twenty-four hours a day, I abso-fucking-lutely would.”
They sat quietly and ate for a moment or two before the entire reason for Sawyer’s visit burst out of her as if she had no control over her voice. “I slept with Jenna last night.”
Courtney stopped chewing and stared at her. Sawyer didn’t look at her, but she could feel it, and she had to fight hard to keep from squirming. Courtney swallowed loudly and said, “I’m sorry, what?”
Sawyer sighed. “Yeah.”
“Okay.” Courtney nodded and seemed to take a moment to get her bearings. “Okay. And?”
“And what?”
An annoyed sigh. “And how was it? What did you talk about afterward? Are you okay? Is she okay? Are you gonna do it again? Are you girlfriends now?” She took another bite of pizza and said around it, “I have questions.”
“Clearly.” Sawyer laughed through her nose.
Then she took a deep breath and answered.
“It was amazing. Like, truly amazing. We haven’t talked about it because I haven’t seen her today.
I had to work, and then I came here. We’ve texted a tiny bit, but that’s all.
” She grimaced, trying to hide the guilt she felt at having snuck out that morning and hauling ass to work early. “I did leave her a note.”
“Wait. You left her a note.”
“Yes.”
“What did it say?”
“Um…” Sawyer tried to recall what she’d jotted on the sticky note she’d found in the kitchen. “ ‘Had a great time. Early meeting. Talk later.’ ”
“Oh, so romantic and heartfelt,” Courtney said with a roll of her eyes. “So, you left while she was still sleeping?” At Sawyer’s embarrassed nod, she shook her head and asked, “What the hell am I going to do with you?”
“I don’t know,” Sawyer whined. “I panicked.”
“Obvies. But why?”
“Because Amanda had come by earlier and Jenna talked to her and—”
Courtney cut her off with a groan. “Jesus fucking Christ, that woman. What is the hold she has on you? I don’t understand it.”
Sawyer blew out a breath and her voice lowered. “I don’t either. I mean, it’s not a hold anymore, but she messes with my head. She does it from afar. I don’t even see her, and she can still mess with my head.”
“Sawyer.” Courtney said her name sternly and waited until Sawyer looked at her. “Listen to me. I’ve said this to you a million times, but I do feel like you’re finally in a place where you might actually hear me.”
Sawyer’s small grin came unbidden.
Courtney reached over and grasped her hand, held it tight.
“You’re amazing. You’re kind and loving and smart and beautiful.
Any woman would be lucky to have you. I hate that Amanda has made you doubt any of those things.
She’s a manipulative narcissist, and you doubting yourself is what she lives for.
It’s how she keeps control. It’s why she’s never made you feel good about yourself.
Because if you do, you’ll see that you deserve so much better than her. ”
Sawyer nodded. She knew all of this was true, but it was sometimes hard to take it all to heart.
“Now, Jenna? She’s the real deal.”
“You think?”
“Hundred percent. And if you can’t see that, you need to get your eyes checked, dear sister of mine.” She chewed a piece of pizza and swallowed it before adding, “Don’t hurt her. Okay?”
“I don’t want to. Believe me, I really don’t.
” That was the absolute truth, and Sawyer had been sitting with it all day.
“I shouldn’t have bolted this morning, but it all felt so…
heavy. You know? My past with Amanda, this new possibility with Jenna.
And then there’s the fact that maybe Jenna doesn’t even want anything that’s a ‘possibility.’ ” She made the air quotes.
“Maybe it was just sex, plain and simple.” She wasn’t sure she could face that either.
She picked up her wine and sat back against the couch.
“I’m not sure what to do,” she whispered.
Courtney put a chicken wing into her mouth and, like a cartoon character would, pulled out a clean bone. Sawyer never understood how she did that. Even as kids, she was fascinated. Courtney’s eyes bored into her as she said, “Talk. To. Her.” She scoffed and added, “You fucking idiot.”
Jenna shoved a book too hard and the stack next to it teetered for a moment, then toppled over, spilling across the floor of the aisle. There was nobody in the store but her right then, and she allowed herself a moment to groan. Loudly and with immense feeling.
Then she dropped to her butt on the floor next to the scattered books and sat there.
What the actual fuck?
When did her bullshit detector become so broken?
She’d been sure things between her and Sawyer had been good, that they’d been not only on the same page but on the same paragraph. The same sentence, even. The night had been incredible. Hadn’t it? They fit together perfectly. Didn’t they? The sex was off-the-charts terrific. Wasn’t it?
Had she been mistaken the entire time? Misreading the signals? Misinterpreting things she heard? Saw? Felt? Because she’d woken up to a sticky note.
A fucking sticky note.
The thing that had thrown the entire fanbase of Sex and the City off the deep end: the dreaded sticky note.
“Goddamn it,” she muttered as she began stacking the books up again so she could shelve them. She picked one up and read the synopsis on the back, which talked about how the female main character didn’t trust the male main character as far as she could throw him, but she was so drawn to him anyway…
“Run,” Jenna said aloud to the empty shop, coupling it with an eye roll. She scanned for the character’s name. “Shana. Run now, Shana. Run fast and far. And for the love of God,” she put her face close to the cover as she hissed, “do not have sex with him!”
She shelved the remaining books, then dusted a bit, placed some orders, rang up some customers, and basically did her best to keep herself busy while her phone stayed infuriatingly quiet.
Delia arrived in the early afternoon, and when Dakota came in a few minutes later carrying two cups, she took one look at Jenna and indicated the chairs in the back.
“Come. Sit. Talk.”
Jenna sighed and hung her head for a moment.
“Go,” Dee said from behind the counter. “I’ve got this.”
In the back of the shop, Jenna dropped into the chair next to Dakota, across from the loveseat, and took one of the cups. “That obvious, huh?”
“Girl, I’ve known you too long not to be able to read your face in a split second.” Dakota took a sip of her coffee, then added, “And you suck at masking. You really need to get yourself a resting bitch face like mine.”
That made Jenna laugh softly.
“The girl next door?” Dakota asked.
Blowing out a long breath, Jenna nodded.
“What happened?”
She spent the next few minutes relaying the events of the previous evening, from Sawyer running out to the hospital to Amanda showing up to the way Sawyer had come to her rather than go into her own place to the sex.
At that, she fell back against the chair with a whimper.
“God, Dakota, it was so good. So. Freaking. Good.” She waved an all-encompassing hand.
“I don’t mean to sound like one of these books I sell, but we fit together perfectly. ”
“Like two puzzle pieces?” Dakota said with a gleam in her eye.
“Yes.” Jenna sat up. “Fucking yes. Just like that. It was almost frightening, it was that good.”
“And then?”
“And then I woke up to an empty bed and a sticky note.”
“Oh, shit.”
Jenna nodded. “Yup.” She had to stay angry or she’d cry, and crying in front of Dakota wasn’t something she wanted to do. She didn’t want her friend to know how deeply this thing hurt—no, she wanted to shrug and be flippant about it.
“What did it say?” Dakota leaned forward toward her, clearly invested.
“ ‘Had a great time. Early meeting. Talk later.’ ” Yes, she’d memorized it, because how hard was it to memorize eight generic words?
“Okay. Not terrible.” When Jenna gave her a slightly wide-eyed look, she tipped her head at her. “It’s not. Did you text her?”
“I did. She texted back. It was all very surface-y and impersonal.”
“All right. Again, not terrible. Her job is busy, right?”
“Yeah.” They sat there, sipping their coffee.
The bell over the door rang a few times here and there, and Jenna saw a customer or two wandering the aisles, heard Delia talking from the front, and they continued to sip.
Dakota’s eyes were on her, she could feel them, and she avoided her gaze for as long as she could before finally sighing. “What?”
Dakota’s voice went soft as she asked, “Are you okay?”
To her horror, Jenna’s eyes welled up, and she squeezed them shut, muttering “Goddamn it” as she willed the unshed tears away, mentally tried to push them back into her tear ducts. “I am not going to cry over this. Over her.”