2. Faye
2
FAYE
“Sorry I’m late!”
Shuffling his way through the crowd filling Samuel’s this evening, Bash made Faye’s heart stumble that old, familiar missed beat. Her eyes naturally clocked his windswept form squeezing through the line at the bar towards them.
They’d crammed their group of five around one table sticky with condensing residue of their drinks, while the live band crooned the beginnings of another jazz piece for their warm-up. Samuel’s was the hottest jazz ticket north of the river on an ordinary day, but entrance to their themed nights were an even rarer win. This was their third year in a row where they’d managed to snag tickets for a Christmas show, courtesy of Bash who was the last to arrive, full of apologies for the incident that caused his tube station to close for half an hour.
He said hello to everyone, garnered a run-down of how Maisie’s grandma’s broken wrist had happened yesterday (an incident involving a hefty amount of lubricant and Vera’s seventy-three year old boyfriend. Maisie hadn’t wanted to know the details).
“I have your drink.” Faye scooted the glass over an inch as Bash shrugged himself out of his winter coat and draped it over the chair they’d managed to save for him from the vultures who’d eyed it for half an hour.
Each of his movements were hard to ignore. He was hard to ignore. It was a feat Faye’d been attempting and repeatedly failing ever since she was eighteen.
Breathing in steadily, she casually fluffed out her bottle-blonde hair which touched her shoulders and took him in. His forest green jumper over a white t-shirt softened him with all of the rounded necklines and seams – an outfit meaning he’d spent his day in casual meetings with his business partner, Bennet, or poring over sketches with a fine toothed comb.
“Thanks, Faye.” Sniffling his pink nose bitten by the winter’s chill outside, Bash glugged a swig of amber, getting foam caught on the five o’clock shadow over his lip, before sitting down. He pulled off the beanie from his head and proceeded to neaten up his dishevelled hair. It was still dark after all this time, practically black in the low light of the ceiling lamp between them. And thick – the kind of thickness many females would go to war over.
Faye had told him so.
Many times.
It was a tight squeeze as the five of them huddled around their table. Faye sat semi-sideways to avoid her thigh from being perpetually pressed against Bash’s. Not that she’d have minded … if it wasn’t for the lack of air conditioning to cool her in a space packed down to every last burgundy leather seat. The lamps hanging from the low ceiling burned golden warmth which would’ve made her feel like she was being baked in an oven if it was summer.
“Work was busy today, I take it?” Freddy pushed the bowl of salted peanuts towards Bash with a fingertip, the movement riding up his t-shirt’s long sleeve and exposing an inch of his tattooed arm.
Exasperation flared in Bash’s eyes. “Do you know how many millionaires want to redecorate properties in London just so they can host parties over the Christmas season? ”
“As many as those wanting flowers arranged in their grand lobbies, gala rooms, and displays?” Sienna chipped in.
“Bad day, huh?” Freddy grimaced and Faye did too at the both of them. Sienna shrugged, but Bash’s blankness was indifferent.
“Good, actually.” He surprised them, scooping up a palmful of nuts. “We won two new clients for spring and I finished some mockups of a project for this January.” He took another swig of his drink. “I just wanted the day to be done.”
Something was off in that statement.
Faye put her hand on his back and rubbed a soothing circle, yet her eyes fell and her hand did too when Bash looked across his shoulder at her. It wasn’t a warning, but more like curiosity in his eyes as if he hadn’t expected the touch. His lips began to curl up in a smile that made her traitorous heart jump.
“Well, you’re here now,” she said gladly. “The band’s just finishing their opening warm up.”
“Sit back and forget about it,” Maisie added.
Another more vibrant smile pulled on Bash’s lips and he turned the conversation around. “How are you guys? Fred?”
At thirty years old, Freddy Bergesen was too young to have the dark circles blotting under his Nordic blue eyes, and his ashen blonde hair had sprouted greys in the last few months. Faye wished she could hug him more, but he didn’t share the same propensity for physical touch as Bash did.
“The twins aren’t settling,” Freddy grumbled, his gaze firmly down within his pint. “We’re trying, but Connor is overwhelmed. He just started back at work. Christmas doesn’t seem to be cheering anybody up and those kids are just … miserable.”
Faye’s shoulders sank. None of what had happened to Freddy this year was fair.
“You all just lost an amazing woman, it's going to take time to heal,” Maisie said to him, the natural bounce in her voice calming.
“I know. But trying to grieve and co-parent your dead sister’s kids with her husband is—I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound so … ” Fr eddy curled his fingers in a tense squeeze around air and the gesture finished his sentence for him.
“It’s alright.” Faye leaned forwards and covered the back of his hand on the table.
Bright eyes glanced at her first, then the others. “I needed to come out tonight. Thanks for this.”
“Who has the boys?” Bash asked.
“My parents.”
“Speaking of parents … ” Sienna slid in, setting her glass down and folding her arms. “Amber just got engaged on her birthday last night, and my parents are being their usual selves about it.” Faye sensed by Sienna’s stiff shoulders that a wine-and-cheesecake night to talk this out would be imminent.
“Oh no. What have they said?” She almost didn't want to know the answer, feeling her chest seizing in anticipation. She’d been lucky that she and her step-sister had always gotten along, but Sienna hadn’t been so lucky.
“The usual: that I’m not trying hard enough. ‘Amber is so perfect. Amber has it all figured out’. And now she’s gone and cuffed a rich fiancé.” With a backdrop of low lights and instruments still warming up, Sienna only looked miserable, still in her blouse from work. The white was bright against her warm copper skin. “I think my parents forget sometimes that not everybody wants the same pretentious things as they do.”
Freddy had his pint glass halfway to his lips when he asked, “Would they listen if you told them that?”
Sienna’s dark eyes rolled to him. “I’ve given up trying.”
Bash clapped his hand on her shoulder. “You, Sienna, are slaying your life.” Faye was sure he hadn’t ever said ‘slaying’ like that in his thirty years. “Only you can tell you what you want to do.”
She needed to start carrying round ice packs to help make the heart Bash melted in her solid again .
A defeated smile twitched on Sienna’s full, dark lips. “Okay, enough about me. Maise?”
Faye hadn’t seen the nervousness she did then in Maisie’s expression since the last time the redhead had psyched herself up by shifting her ample bosom under her sundress and drawing in the belt accentuating her curves, before sliding up to a man at the bar they’d been in. Her flittering gaze was agitating, too.
“I think I’m going to be moving away,” Maisie blurted.
“What do you mean? To where?” Four voices all wondered roughly the same thing.
With the slight movement of Maisie’s pale, freckled arms, Faye knew she’d begun to wring her hands together beneath the table. “My family have been talking about someone moving closer to Nain ? * , and at the moment I’m the only one whose job means they can go easily.” Her brows ticked up. “The perks of being remote. So … with her fall yesterday, I think I’ll be leaving for Wales soon.”
Faye’s throat became tight. Her palms, clammy. “For good?”
“I hope not, but it looks that way for now.”
“When are you going?”
Maisie bit on her lip. “ Nain’s boyfriend is helping her for now, and I want to be with my family here for Christmas and with you guys for New Year, so I think straight after that.”
Faye’s heart smacked against her chest; that was only a couple of weeks away. One of her best friends was going to be gone and the stab of sadness felt too close to home.
She swallowed down her tongue and the shaky feeling high up in her chest as Bash said, “We love you, Maise. You’ll always have us here.”
Maisie looked close to tears. “Thank you. I just wanted to tell you all before any plans were confirmed.” At the last word, her hazel eyes flicked to Faye, and the guilt she’d been steadily feeling trickling into her body throughout the conversation doubled down on its effort to unsettle her.
Faye knew what that look was for, and why. She tried to hide how the unexpected news made her eyes water behind a forceful smile. The lamps were low enough that maybe no one would notice them glimmering as she raised her glass to her lips.
Wales was only a couple of hours away – it could be worse. Distance didn’t have to mean the end of a friendship, but Faye had always thrived with her friends nearby. They were like family, and when you came from a broken one, friendship that was steady meant so much more.
A touch at her knee gave a gentle squeeze and her eyes shot to Bash. He didn’t look at her, listening to their friends continue the conversation she’d blocked out, but he squeezed her knee again as if to say he was there for her, that her sadness was okay. Faye didn’t doubt he’d feel it too. His heart was too big to feel nothing at all for Maisie leaving. Bash was just better than her. More thoughtful, less selfish. He would give Maisie all of his support before he even thought about himself being left behind.
So why hadn’t she told him that she was going to be?—
“You haven’t said how your day was.”
Faye blinked herself back to the room. Back to Bash.
“Good, as usual. I finished a design for another doughnut,” she said. “Actually—” She lifted her purse from her lap and dug about for her phone. “Would you mind looking at it, please? I already love it but I trust your opinion.”
Bash passed her a smile. “Sure.” He waited for her to find the image on her phone and hand it over while the others chatted without them.
“It’s one of the new Christmas designs.” Faye watched his fingers expand the image she’d spent a couple of spare hours illustrating last night, his other hand finding its way to his hair. He kept it short but not close cut, long enough for curls to just start to want to break through on top if only he’d let them, and with the ripe old age of thirty, he’d begun greying at the temples in an endearing way.
Bash’s lips set in a shallow curve while his eyes roamed across the screen for a minute. If there was anyone Faye could trust to give her their honest opinion, it was him. Which is why he was always the first to see the illustrations of anything she baked.
All throughout university, they’d helped one another with their creative ideas – starting from the art society where they’d met. Faye liked bright and bold, whereas Bash was more natural elegance and sleek in his work. So when she’d had to formulate a suggested rebranding of a non-existent luxury timepiece company, he’d been the one she’d gone to, and when he’d been given a brief for redesigning an eccentric actor’s home with ‘eclectic’ tastes, he’d shown up at her bedroom door that same hour.
But whereas Bash was now the co-CEO of PD Eid, May the 4th, International Dog Day. Now Christmas was only two weeks away, she’d begun to circulate festive doughnuts into the menu of Baked By The Dozen . She knew of other bakeries that’d been serving their Christmas themed delights since mid-November, but she’d wanted to wait and not push the festivities too early.
She should probably think of putting decorations up in the bakery, too. Some of the shelves looked a little bare.
Bash gave a definitive hum as he straightened his head. “I’d eat it.”
A smile curled onto Faye’s lips. “You say that about everything I make.”
“Well that’s because everything that you make tastes amazing.”
Her eyes rolled though she couldn’t help but keep her smile. Bash only ever got to taste those perfect endings to her laborious creative sessions, so he knew no better. Faye could always find something wrong, or where she lacked. At least ninety percent of what she experimented with in the kitchen ended up in the bin.
But that was the beauty of baking, wasn’t it? Finding ways to make something taste even better? The fun-ness of trial and error? It was infuriating too, yes, but when something finally turned out perfect, that time and error was worth it.
Though the thought of expanding Baked’s menu beyond what it currently was made Faye’s stomach swim.
“The design though … ” she prompted.
“It’s really good. What are you going to use for the Rudolf nose?”
“I was thinking maybe one of those little hard coated chocolates? I’ll have to see if I can buy the red ones in bulk.” And soon. “But I could just ice it or use paste.” Which would take up even more time but was definitely cheaper than having to order in the sweets specifically.
“The chocolates sound good,” Bash mused while the high hat, piano, and saxophone played their light Christmas tune.
“And I thought of using mini pretzels for the antlers.” Faye twirled her finger around the design still illuminated on the phone screen, ignoring how their fingers had brushed when she’d reached to reclaim it.
“Lady reindeer. Nice.”
“Huh?”
Bemusement gleamed in Bash’s eyes as he bobbed his head in time to the live music. “Santa’s reindeer? They’re all females. Males lose their antlers in winter.”
Why was Faye not surprised he knew that?
“You’re an idiot,” she said affectionately and slid her phone back into her purse.
“I know.” Bash’s shoulders bunched up when he grinned in return.
An old teddy of Faye’s sat on the mini desk in the corner of her living room and reminded her of him, though she’d never tell him that. Perhaps she could be subtle with it and buy him one of those teddy-bear hoodies that’ve been popular the last few winters for Christmas? Bash would certainly look good in one.
Though she shouldn’t be thinking of what he looked good in at all. Their relationship was completely platonic, as it had been for years. Yet here was where Faye found herself most days, and just like the drop of liquid rolling down her cocktail glass, she allowed for those thoughts to slip away once more.
Bash glanced over at the band. “I’m just going to use the bathroom. I’ll be back.”
“Actually, I need to go too.” Freddy, all six foot of Danish muscle, unfurled from his seat, and they slipped away together through the crowded tables. It wasn’t uncommon knowledge that on nights like these the pair stole a quick break from all of the oestrogen in the room for a brotherly catch up.
Tapping her foot to the music, Faye tracked Bash as he went. Inevitably her gaze dipped for the briefest second to how his jeans hugged his?—
“You are so smitten.” Maisie’s voice floated with as much delicacy as a crash landing goose across the table.
Faye snapped herself back around and gave the whole game away that she had in fact been staring at Bash’s?—
“I am not,” she said with the confidence of a cake about to sink in the middle, her foot ceasing to enjoy the tune.
Two pairs of glittering eyes and smirking lips met her.
“Yes you are,” Sienna chimed in. She’d worn the spiral curls of her raven hair down tonight, and the springy volume was as loud as her voice.
Faye’s browline raised higher. “I. Am. Not.”
“Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”
“Because it’s not true.” Her insistence fell on deaf ears.
Maisie leant over the table. “At least five women have walked past Bash tonight – too close, by the way – and the only one he’s been looking at is you. He never takes his eyes off of you.”
Faye’s focus fell to the table, a fingertip moving back and forth against the neck of her half-empty glass. “He’s attentive.”
The picture of casual elegance, Sienna sat back and sipped on her drink. “You’re making our point very easy. You two should just marry each other.”
Marry each other.
A knot of yes please and as if knotted in Faye’s stomach as her eyes bulged at the suggestion.
“Have you told him yet?” Maisie leaned closer and dipped her voice.
“That he’s attentive?” Though Faye knew that’s not what Maisie had meant – her leaving confession minutes ago had served more than just one purpose.
“No. That you found a place in Manchester. That you’re going to be leav?—”
“Right then.” Bash appeared out of thin air.
“What are you doing?” Faye’s gaze shot between his fingers that started lifting her hand off of the table and his eyes. Eyes that always made her feel as though she had his entire attention, that nothing could pull him away from her right then.
“You’re dancing with me.” Bash tipped his head in a gesture at the space of floor beside the band. “Come on.”
“No. No I?—”
“It’s jazz themed Christmas music, we only get this once a year,” he cut in quickly as the song transitioned from one to the next, jostling her arm with an encouraging smile. “Please Peanut?”
How could Faye say no when Bambi batted his big anime eyes like that? They were her weakness. She trusted that if she really didn't want to, he’d let her go. But it was Christmas, and she’d worked hard all year. She deserved a dance.
“Okay, fine.” Faye feigned reluctance and let Bash pull her to her feet. She wouldn’t want to seem too eager in front of the two ladies who looked very smug right then.
Maisie pursed her lips and leant back in her seat, though Faye caught the glance she sneaked to Sienna.
As a jazzified version of Frosty the Snowman began to play, Faye found herself in that little space of floor between an older couple and two gentlemen around their own age, being pulled in by a hand on her waist.
Excitement secretly partied in her veins. Bash was a good dancer. A little cheesy but in the right way and light on his feet. He’d never stood on her toes before, which was worth some praise.
“Ready?” His grin was too wide for her to say no – as if she’d rather be anywhere else than dancing with him – so Faye nodded.
Her right hand hadn’t left his and Bash raised them both up between them, with her other finding its way to feel the solidness of his shoulder blade.
Her heeled boots brought her eyes only level with his nose. Bash was tall enough that when Faye hugged him around the neck, she had no choice but to push up on her toes and then stretch her ribs another couple of inches more.
Around in a circle, they danced a two-step back and forth to the upbeat keys and high hat of the band not ten feet away.
Their friends watched them. Every time Faye faced their table, she saw their attempts to hide their whispers and smiles behind their glasses as they ducked their heads together. Even Freddy had a smirk on his face.
At one point, Bash gently pushed her away so she could spin back under his straightened arm, laughing at the old-fashioned feeling of it. Drawing so close and then pulling apart made Faye’s pulse rise and fall in equal measure.
The saxophone kicked in for a chorus, adding in flares and runs of notes, and Bash wiggled his shoulders – an exaggerated shimmy bringing a cheek-aching smile to Faye’s lips, forcing her to look away before her hand on the muscles of his shoulder decided to wander. Hold him closer. Find the hair at the nape of his neck and curl her fingers there.
She’d watched him grow out of boyish good looks and turn into a man, but still that spark of their youthful days remained. A spark that reignited flames she’d tried over and over again to put out, yet failed and spread through her like wildfire without rain each time Bash looked at her so tenderly.
His name had been traced in ink upon her heart.
And she wished forever that he might do the same.
* ? Welsh: Grandma