Chapter 10 Naomi
My appointment with Carol went smoothly—nothing out of the ordinary. The Montgomerys loved the designs and were thrilled to start on the new nursery plans. We wrapped up in under an hour, and I was free to move on with my day.
Sliding into my car, the cool leather seat embraces me as I set my sights on Aisha’s wellness studio, Alumbración.
The drive is a familiar one, yet today the cityscape whizzes by with a sense of urgency, the afternoon sun casting long shadows on the pavement.
I arrive with ten minutes to spare before her last yoga class of the day.
Typically, I relish the tranquility of her Ebb and Flow sunrise session, where the golden light filters gently through the windows, relaxing my body and helping me get my head on right to face the day.
But today, oversleeping derailed my routine.
The studio is as serene as ever, with soft music playing in the background and the faint scent of eucalyptus hanging in the air. I barely make it through the door before Courtney White, Aisha’s assistant, bolts out from behind the desk like a ray of chaotic sunshine.
“Oh my GOD! Ni! We missed you this morning!” she squeals, wrapping her arms around me in a crushing hug.
“Hey, Court. Yeah, I overslept.” I chuckle, squeezing her back.
Her face scrunches in concern. “Are you okay? You’re not getting sick, are you? I heard there’s a new strain of The Vid going around. You know it’s always mutating or whatever.”
I laughed softly. “I’m fine. Just tired—too many late nights prepping for the anniversary party.”
“Oh em gee, ten years! Congrats! I’ll be there for sure. I heard the guest list is swanky, so I feel special just being invited!” She squeaks.
“You’re family, Court. You don’t need an invitation,” I assure her, smiling warmly.
She’d moved from San Francisco to Los Angeles a few years ago with barely anyone to call her own, so Aisha and I had unofficially adopted her. She’d become the little sister neither of us had ever had.
“I’d know that ass anywhere.”
Courtney’s reply is interrupted by a voice that grates like nails on glass, and bile threatens to rise in the back of my throat. Court rolls her eyes and ducks back behind the desk, muttering, “Here we go.”
I clench my jaw, my teeth grinding together as I turn around to meet Mark Presscot’s smirk, Taylor Vendetta trailing close behind.
“Why are you like this?” Taylor mutters, exasperated, before greeting me with a warm smile. “Hey, Ni.” He kisses my cheek, sliding an arm around my back in a familiar gesture that always softens me.
“Hey, Tay.” I beam up at him, the sour taste Mark left immediately fading away.
The contrast between them is glaring. Mark acts out, and Taylor is always there to soften his friend’s nauseating behavior.
The only way I can stomach Mark is if Taylor is there.
The man is a golden retriever—sweet, reliable, and affectionate.
But Mark is… Mark. Relentless, crude, and endlessly annoying.
Yet somehow, they’d been inseparable since high school.
We all went to school together, so his antics aren’t new, but Mark’s brand of charm never fails to get under my skin.
Mark pouts dramatically. “How come he gets a kiss, and I get hostility?”
“Because I’m not a pig,” Taylor shoots back, winking at me.
Mark clutches his chest as if he’s been mortally wounded. “I’m a gentleman,” he protests.
“Not even close,” Aisha quips, her voice low as she emerges from the hallway. The soundproofed rooms behind her. Thankfully, it keeps her clients blissfully unaware of the lawlessness we bring into her studio.
“See?” Taylor says, pointing at Aisha. “Vindicated.” He claps Mark on the shoulder.
“Alright, we’re off,” Taylor continues. “Next class starts soon, and this one’s got a personal training session.
” He leans over the desk, giving Courtney a tender kiss, his thumb grazing her cheek.
“I’ll see you later,” he murmurs, leaving her blushing the prettiest shade pink.
“Okay.” She breathes, light and airy, her eyes never leaving him, even as Mark slings his arm around his friend’s neck, looping him into a playful headlock.
“Come on, lover boy.” Mark chuckles. Taylor finally gets away just in time to catch Courtney’s blown kiss, holding it to his chest, stumbling as if he’s been shot by Cupid's arrow.
“Yuck,” Mark grumbles, but we all know he’s just jealous. He’d wanted Courtney badly when he first met her, but our sweet angel baby never gave him the time of day, no matter how hard he tried. And he’d tried. Hard.
A smile stretches across my face. After everything Courtney has faced —the little she felt comfortable sharing—she deserves someone like Taylor—a lovesick puppy who adores her bubbly energy. Not a fuckboy like Mark.
“Let’s go, Mark,” Taylor says, playfully swatting his friend on the chest.
“You’re not my dad,” Mark mumbles, though he follows.
“And thank fuck for that,” Taylor quips,“Although I feel like you would be a better person if I were.”
“Fuck you.
“Fuck you.” Taylor’s laughter echoes as they disappear into the employee locker room.
Aisha catches Courtney by the shoulders when she backs into her, “I’m so sorry!” Courtney squeals, snapping her palm over her mouth.
I get lost in my thoughts, thinking about what it might feel like to have such strong feelings for someone, someone who makes me feel stupidly flustered, walking on a cloud and tripping over my own two feet.
“It’s fine.” Aisha giggles. “You are too cute. Listen, make sure those knuckleheads don’t forget to clean up the rooms before y’all lock up. Okay?”
“Of course, and I’ll grab the new shipment for the juice bar.” Leaning over the counter, Courtney starts writing a to-do list for herself.
“Make sure none of the fruits are bruised," Aisha says, rounding the front desk, stepping back toward me. I know she's trying to make it quick, but Aisha can't bring herself to leave her team without several reminders. Over the years, Courtney started writing them down to give Aisha peace of mind.
“I’ll have Taylor change the filters in the air purifiers as well,” Courtney says, chewing on the cap of her pen.
“You’re God-sent,” she says, pressing her palms together before turning towards me. “Let’s go, Ni.”
She snaps me out of my improbable thoughts, holding the studio door open for me to head to my car.
As we step out of Aisha’s yoga studio, chatting and laughing, the hot Cali air greets us. We’re already planning what indulgent treats we’ll grab at the Mers when a scene in front of us catches my attention.
Two men, identical in appearance but starkly different in demeanor, are causing a stir outside the studio. “Little brother,” he calls in a taunting voice towards the front doors. “You can’t hide in there forever! Come out, come out!”
Aisha’s eyes narrow, her protective instincts kicking in. With a quick glance at me, she steps towards him, her voice firm. “You need to leave. Now. This is private property.”
The calmer twin holds up his hands, trying to placate her. “Pardon us, miss. My brother’s a bit… unorthodox. We don’t mean any harm; we are just looking for Taylor.” His voice is doused in southern charm.
His brother saunters forward with a wild look in his eyes, a smirk curling his lips. "Yeah, pardon me," he purrs, his gaze falling down Aisha's body. "We just came to give our little brother a visit. Family matters, you understand?" His southern accent is much rougher, sending a chill down my spine
Aisha doesn’t flinch, her glare as sharp as her words as she looks up at him, “You have three seconds to get the fuck off this property before I make sure you regret ever setting foot here.”
Dark amusement curls his lips as he steps closer. I don’t like it. There’s something about him that feels too aware, too calculating.
“A sharp tongue and a fiery spirit,” he purrs, eyes dragging over Aisha in a way that makes my skin crawl. “I like that.”
Aisha holds her own. She crosses her arms, her expression a mix of disdain and boredom. “You’ll like the taste of pavement more. Keep talking.”
I almost smirk at that, but the moment sours when the man’s attention shifts, landing directly on me.
Something in his expression changes. His lips curl, his eyes sharpening into something dangerous.
“How you doing, butterfly?” he murmurs, voice silky but wrong, like a blade hidden in velvet.
A cold chill slithers down my spine. My breath catches, a reaction I hate—one I refuse to let him see.
Aisha moves closer, her stance protective, her body a silent reassurance of the asphalt she promised. I should say something, push back, but my throat tightens around the weight of his words.
“Two,” Aisha states boldly, tugging her phone from her pocket.
He chuckles and it is a dark, unsettling sound. “We’ll be seeing you around, little brother,” he bellows loudly in the direction of the studio, but I doubt Taylor has heard him. “And you too, gorgeous,” he drops his voice to a whisper, throwing Aisha a wink before backing away.
It’s only when they hit the stop sign at the end of the block that I find my words. “What the hell was that?”
“Oh, those were Taylor’s lovely brothers.” She sighs as we walk arm in arm to the car. “This is the second time they have come around. We hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting them in high school. Now I can see why.”
Taylor always played his cards close to his chest when it came to his family.
Even as good friends, we never got invited to his house.
Whenever it came up, Taylor always changed the subject.
And now it’s clear as day why a red stain would flood across his face at the mere mention of working on a project at his house; why he’d never failed to quickly suggest another venue.
The familiarity of the unhinged twin’s voice was far too unnerving. And why did he call me a butterfly?
“Okay, big-body Benz!” Aisha exclaims, pulling me out of my thoughts.