Brenda
It had been a helluva long, stressful week at work for Cyndi and me.
The Christmas season had people coming in droves.
That was common this time of year, but it was worse this year.
The reason was the O’Sheeran brothers. It seemed that by them shopping with us, countless people came to do the same.
Some I knew wanted to find gifts for themselves or others.
However, the majority seemed to be hoping to encounter the mobsters.
Cyndi and I were the only ones in St. Augustine who didn’t want them to return.
We’d talked a few times, when we were home together, about how much the two O’Sheerans affected us.
We both agreed that, as sexy and intriguing as they were, they weren’t for us.
We weren’t like those three bitches who came into the store that day.
The ones treating us like dirt under their designer heels.
We’d been sent off without a word from either man.
Then, after the three ladies left, they dared to approach us and act as if nothing was wrong. Their later offer for dinner didn’t erase the fact that they dismissed us as if we didn’t matter. I thought Sean would defend us. He didn’t.
But our exile across the room was the wake-up call Cyndi and I needed.
Their offer of dinner as a thank you was just an excuse.
No doubt they thought we’d be so thankful that the illustrious O’Sheerans had paid attention to us for a few minutes that we’d fall into bed with them as “dessert.” And if we had, we would’ve been kicked out of it hours later, never to see them again.
If there was any doubt of it, all we had to do was remember the countless magazine and newspaper articles written about them and the myriad of women they escorted all over.
A new one every time. I didn’t need to sleep with Sean to relieve my sexual frustration.
He might not know it, but I had options.
It was those thoughts and more that led to tonight and the date I was about to go on.
Well, make it the dates Cyndi and I had accepted.
I’d wondered several times if this was a mistake, but every time I began to think that, I recalled those socialites, then Sean, and finally Cormac.
They were out of our league, but not everyone was, including our dates.
Tuesday after work, we’d been lounging around the apartment watching television.
A knock on the door had startled us. Rising to answer it, I crept to the door.
I grabbed the baseball bat leaning in the corner next to the entrance.
It was there for protection. It was dark, and only a fool opened their door at night, especially if they were a woman.
Our neighborhood wasn’t the worst, but it could be better.
We stayed inside and off the streets after dark.
“Who is it?” I called out. Cyndi was right behind me. She held a crowbar in her hands.
“Brenda, it’s Malcolm and Johnny Cooper,” a man replied.
Even through the door, I recognized his voice.
He had a drawl to it that was unmistakable.
It matched the one his brother Johnny had.
Relaxing slightly, I lowered my bat, but retained a hold on it.
Unlocking the door, I cracked it open about six inches.
In the faint street lamp lighting, I saw Malcolm’s face.
“Hey there, pretty girl. Sorry for stopping by unannounced, but we happened to be in the neighborhood. Johnny and I wanted to see the two of you. May we come in? I promise we won’t stay long.”
I exchanged a lingering look with Cyndi over my shoulder before I moved back, swinging the door open wider.
“Sure, you can come in. Hello, Malcolm, Johnny.”
“Hello, Brenda, Cyndi. It’s good to see you both. You’re looking wonderful,” Johnny said, casting a sweet smile my way and a sexy one toward my best friend. Malcolm was giving me the sexy variety, too.
The brothers grew up with Cyndi and me. They were a few years older than us.
When we were kids and teenagers, we had huge crushes on them.
By the time we were old enough to do anything about those crushes, they’d faded and become more like friendships.
It wasn’t long after that that the guys had started asking us to go out with them.
We declined, explaining that we saw them as brothers and friends.
They hated it. Every so often, they’d ask if we’d go out with them.
We knew they hoped we’d change our minds.
I guess anything could happen, though I thought it was unlikely to happen between us.
After gesturing for them to sit and asking if they wanted anything, we sat down to face them.
“What brings you here at night?” Cyndi asked.
“We didn’t lie about being in the neighborhood. We were visiting Granny. She hasn’t been feeling well. Anyway, we came by to see how you’re doing,” Malcolm explained.
“Oh, I’m sorry she’s feeling poorly. We had no idea. We’ll go see her,” I exclaimed.
Their granny, Ms. Paulette, raised them. She’d been the grandma to the whole pack of kids in our neighborhood growing up. Even if someone had grandparents of their own, they still were treated like they were Ms. Paulette’s.
“She’d like that. It’s a respiratory infection she can’t seem to shake. We tried to get her to stay with us, but you know how she is. She won’t leave her house,” Johnny told us as he shook his head.
I chuckled. “She’s a stubborn one. That’s for sure. But don’t worry, we’ll keep an eye on her. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To ask us to do that,” I stated.
“No, actually, we’re not, though we appreciate you offering. We truly wanted to make sure you’re both doing alright. It’s been too long since we’ve seen each other,” Malcolm replied.
From there, we exchanged some general chitchat over what we’d been doing at work and personally for about ten minutes before the topic changed.
“We don’t want to keep you up too late. You have work tomorrow, and so do we. It was great to catch up. We need more time to do it right. I know you and Brenda always tell us no, but we have to ask. Will you please say yes to dinner and maybe a drink afterward?” Johnny asked Cyndi.
I was about to shoot them down when Malcom held up his hand.
“Brenda, I know what you’re gonna say. You only see us as friends.
If that’s all we can be, then so be it. But if there’s even a one percent chance we could grow into something more, we’d hate ourselves for missing the chance.
Please, Brenda, say yes to dinner and dancing.
I swear it can be dinner and done if you find you hate it or you feel I’m pushing boundaries,” Malcolm stated.
At the same time he was making his petition to me, Johnny was doing the same with Cyndi. There was a tiny bit of back-and-forth, but less than usual. In the end, both Cyndi and I gave in. I found out later it was for the same reason I did.
We liked the two men, and we were sick and tired of thinking about the O’Sheeran brothers. It was our way of putting those mobsters where they belonged—out of our minds. When Johnny and Malcolm left, a plan was in place to go to dinner, and then from there, we’d see on Friday night.
The ringing of the doorbell shook me out of thoughts of backing out and memories of how this came to be. Cyndi beat me to the door this time.