He wasn’t smiling like normal though. His face was red and I knew it wasn’t just because he was hot. He looked mad. But he wasn’t looking at me anymore, he was looking behind me and even as everyone started to move away, Cooper didn’t. Instead, he stuck his foot out to the side and tripped Derek over.
On purpose!
“Be mean to her again and you’ll regret it,” he spat, turning to look at me for two whole seconds before running over to stand next to Sebastian, as if nothing even happened.
As if he hadn’t just implanted himself in my heart.
I stared at his email reply disbelievingly.
Sounds good. Freetomorrow?
Excuse me?
Four fudge-stick words. FOUR! The number alone was enough to make me sweaty.
Was he serious right now? Four words.
Was four words even worthy of an email? May as well have sent a passive aggressive thumbs up.
It was obvious after my four-hour debate on how to word my email, he spent less than five seconds drafting a reply with no salutation or farewell.
Still rudeandarrogant apparently.
Hitting reply, I didn’t spend hours pondering whether to maintain any semblance of professionalism when he clearly couldn’t have been bothered. In just four words, he reminded me how much of a nuisance I was. And with that, a flurry of feelings I’d worked hard to forget came gushing back. Once again, even as a thirty-two-year-old, I was still that annoying younger sibling in desperate need of saving.
Hi Cooper,
Yes, I am free tomorrow.
I’m working in the morning - how does 4:00 pm sound?
Evangeline.
Changing the font to white, I added a final line, meant only for me.
I do hope you are fisted without lube in themeantime.
Ex oh.
It wasn’t my finest moment and didn’t align with my,I am mature and not in need of savingcampaign, but it did leave me feeling satisfied. Sometimes the quiet wins clapped the loudest and I grinned like a fool knowing I could throw some spice at my potential boss with him being none the wiser. After all, I wasjust a kid.
White font for the win, ladies and gentlemen.
Golden Spades Distillery was nothing like I imagined.
While I’d obviously stalked the absolute shit out of this place as soon as it opened, followed its Instagram via an anonymous account and done a quick online search for the street view, being here felt different. A large brass sign identifying his brand and logo sat stark against the black brickwork lining the building with a twisty vibrant green vine carefully placed around the edges. The harmonious balance of the man-made and natural feel worked at enhancing the warmth and vitality of the greenery giving a wild and unexpected beauty to the place.
Two large oak barrels hugged the entryway, each adorning their own lush, leafy foliage, further highlighting the industrial and organic aesthetic. Surprisingly impressed with the quality and details, I headed inside to see how the rest looked.
The smell of wood grain wafted through the air, the barrels lining the walls held by ricks, their round tops a trypophobia nightmare as they impressively lay positioned along the perimeter.
It was beautiful and a calming presence washed through me as I looked around, genuinely fascinated and feeling perhaps this was a fortuitous opportunity after all. Despite the list of reasons this could be awkward, the surroundings were already working to soothe. Perhaps seeing him again wasn’t going to be prodigious as it was only a few short weeks ago that I’d straddled the back of hismotorbike, cast in the role of damsel in distress… a part I played so well by now.
But today was uniquely obtuse.
It felt for most of my life I was the one who was on the outside. Younger, immature and lacking any kind of wisdom that he or my brother seemed to have. Yet today I was here for something I knew, and I knew well. There was comfort in that knowledge which was my guiding strength to push my shoulders back and wander further inside.
I was intelligent, confident and not the same person he once knew. I would slip that masked ambivalence around myself and do what was needed to graduate. There really was no other choice at this point. If Golden Spades Distillery didn’t take me, I would have no choice but to pay back the scholarship. The not so kind email I received this morning from the department handling said opportunities made the deadline clear with a subject line reading: Forty-Eight Hours.
