Aiden Cook is out of my league, might as well admit it. He’s a class act. He’s real and incredible and I blew my chance with someone so altruistic and wholesome the night I held up a restaurant at gunpoint. He’d give us a try—he’s said as much. But I’m even more positive now that he would stick with me, even if we weren’t the right fit. He’s a fixer. A loyalist. He’s already bandaged one of my broken wings. I can’t let him run around underneath me while I try to fly.
Right now, I need to focus on this miraculous opportunity I’ve been given and stop wishing for even more. Stop wishing for…him.
*
I’m sitting across from Jordyn on the rooftop of a hotel. In a bar called Monarch.
Plexiglass runs along most the perimeter of the space, attached to an overhead tent, keeping out the December cold while still allowing for a view. The fact that it’s after ten on a Friday night means the place is standing room only and it’s a wonder we managed to find a little corner of the lounge seating area to order drinks. Technically, I cannot afford this place—yet—and that is weighing pretty heavily on my mind, but Jordyn bought the first round and I can’t help but get absorbed in her story about the man who came into Vivant this afternoon and bought seven pairs of diamond studs to give his employees for Christmas.
Jordyn leans into our circle, her martini glass half full, a lemon twist floating on the clear surface. I would marvel over the fact that she can be so animated while telling a story and not spill a single drop, but her every movement is graceful and I’m no longer surprised. “First of all, that’s some spooky sister wives shit. If I get those earrings as a gift from my boss, I’m pawning those things before end of business day. Who wants the same jewelry as six co-workers? This man wouldn’t listen, of course. He knew best.” She takes a small sip, shivering as the vodka goes down. “Would you keep them, Stella?”
The bar might be way more upscale than I’m used to—and my night out hat hasn’t been worn in a while—but this isn’t a totally foreign setting to me. Sitting with people I half-know, drinking, letting myself slip into a slightly numb state where I don’t overthink every word out of my mouth. The vibe is completely different, however. We’re not trying to decide how we’re going to top the previous night or what wild stunt we can get away with. That lack of peer pressure is more intoxicating than the alcohol.
Is this what adulthood feels like? I could get used to it.
“No, I’d sell the earrings, too. But I would invest some of the profit and buy fakes. Maybe wear them to the office a few times to earn points.”
Everyone laughs, including Jordyn. “Did you hear that? This one is wise beyond her years. And that is why…” She raises her glass. “Our store was packed full of new customers today. They didn’t have black American Express cards, but dammit, we take Visa, too.”
We clink glasses, cheering. Someone starts a chant about having an ambition for commission, but the sound dies down abruptly when Seamus swaggers onto the scene. The saleswomen and managers gape at the custodian and his slightly sideways Yankees hat, but he only has eyes for Jordyn. I watch carefully for my friend’s reaction and notice the leap of pleasure on her face before she hides it behind a wall of irritation.
“What are you…following me now?”
“Nah, I was invited.” He scoots in between Jordyn and one of the perfume girls, grinning like a jack-o’-lantern. “Get you another one of those fancy drinks, Miss Jordyn?”
“I pay for my own drinks,” she snaps.
“I know.” He shakes his head slowly. “It’s a damn crime.”
Jordyn rolls her eyes, but she’s battling a smile. As someone who made fighting smiles into a lifestyle, I’m sure of it. “If I let you buy me a drink, you’re going to read something into it and there is nothing—let me say that again—nothing to read. This book is out of print, as far as you’re concerned.”
He doffs his hat, pressing it to his chest. “I just want to quench your thirst, my queen.”
“Oh my—” Jordyn covers her face with her free hand. “Fine. Go. Just go. It’s a lemon drop martini.” She pins me with an incredulous look when he walks away, moving triumphantly through the crowded rooftop on the balls of his feet. “I can’t even deal with that kid.”
I make sure no one else is paying attention before I speak. “You like him.”
Jordyn does a double-take.
“You. Like.” I pause for effect. “Him.”
“I take back what I said about you being wise.”
“What is holding you back exactly? From giving him a shot, I mean.”
“I’m sorry…” she draws out. “Did you miss the fact that he’s a baby compared to me? And hello, he is the weird friend from every sitcom you’ve ever watched.” She makes a show of crossing her legs. “He doesn’t get to date the main character.”
The act of grinning reminds me of Aiden and I get a little twinge in my throat. He won’t be here tonight. I mean, I highly doubt it. The general manager doesn’t come out with his employees. There’s probably something in the handbook about it. I should probably get to perusing more than the non-fraternization policy. Anyway, he’s not going to be here and that’s a good thing. We are boss and employee moving forward. That’s all.
I glance at the door before I can stop myself. Looking for his big shoulders. That bow tie.
Dammit.
“Stella.” Jordyn waves her hand in front of my face. “We were talking about me.”
“Right.” I breathe a laugh, realizing I’m being somewhat of a hypocrite. “Forget I said anything. I’m not telling you who to date. If you’re not interested, there’s a good reason.”
Jordyn nods. “That’s right. I’m just, you know…he’ll lose interest. Men always do.” Some of her usual self-assuredness slips. “My ex-boyfriend sure did. A day before our wedding.”
A weight drops in my belly. “Oh. Jordyn, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m better off,” she says quickly, shrugging. “But if a man with a 401k who wants children can’t even commit for the long term, Seamus sure as hell can’t, either. He’s still wet behind the ears. A caretaker is what he needs. And I’m not here to check some older woman box for him, you know?” When I start to respond to that, she slashes a hand through the air to signal a close to the discussion. “I don’t say this very often, but enough about me. Have you got your eye on anyone?”
That grin.
The Tennessee drawl.
How he holds me.
How easy it is to talk to him.
“No,” I say gruffly, surprised when it hurts to deny a bond with Aiden. Stomach plunging hurt. “Nobody yet. Maybe in the new year.”
She hums, scrutinizing me a little too closely. With an exaggerated movement, she turns toward the entrance of Monarch. “Totally unrelated, I wonder if Mr. Cook will actually show up this time.”
I choke on a sip of my drink. “Totally unrelated. Sure.”
Jordyn pats my knee. “Don’t worry, I’m the only one who saw you two in the backseat of his car this morning. I distracted the other managers by telling them I saw Michael B. Jordan on the street corner.”