In other words,someone like mewas easy. Weak. In the next breath, he’d asked me to skip my monthly visit with my grandad so we could stay in and catch up onAltered Carbon. Apparently, his ‘stronger woman’ didn’t haveNetflix.
For years, I’d done nothing but doubt myself in Neal’s presence. That, and concede, yield, and compromise. Now, I used his words to incite myself. To fight back. To stop the cycle of putting others’ feelings before myown.
Emboldened, I charged back to the counter. My adrenaline kicked in, and fleetingly, I even wondered if I’d have the courage to ask out mister gold-tie, green-eyes after this. But just as I approached, he swiveled on his heel, and we collided with only the drink tray betweenus.
“Goddamnit,” he said, jumping back as iced coffee exploded on myblouse.
My mouth hung open as I raised my arms.Goddamn itwas right. I hadn’t accounted for accidents this late in the game. I definitely didn’t have time to go home and change, but I’d have a hard enough time getting a roomful of men to take me seriouslywithouta wetblouse.
Balancing the tray of surviving drinks in one hand, he tossed the fallen one with his other and grabbed a handful of napkins. “Today of all days,” he muttered. “And the only drink I actuallyneeded.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, and offered, “I’ll replaceit.”
“It’s fine.” He dabbed at coffee splatter on his shirt then squatted to clean up the spill. “Just watch where you’re going. Someone like you will get run over in thiscity.”
I paled, only mildly aware the coffee shop had gone quiet. I didn’t have to ask what he meant bysomeone like me. I wasn’t big enough, not just in stature but in presence, to command consideration. The man didn’t seem to care thatmyblouse was drenched in cold, stickyliquid.
It wasn’t even that he’d said it in front of everyone, including Luciano, but that he’d so easily narrowed in on the insecurities Neal had left me with. A lump formed in my throat as people stared at us, but he didn’t notice as he struggled to mop up every drop with thenapkins.
In a fitted pencil skirt, I couldn’t even bend down to help. “Luciano,” I said, hating how my voice cracked. “There’s a spill overhere.”
“He shouldn’t have to clean up your mess,” the mansaid.
My mess.Run over.Someone like me. What had happened in the last five minutes to turn “number one boss” into such a jerk? I’d spent half a year trying to move on from an ex who’d made me feel as small as this man was trying to. I was insignificant. In the way.Inconvenient.
Tears heated the backs of my eyes, but I swallowed throughthem.
I hadn’t recognized Neal’s behavior for what it was back then, but I was stronger now. This man didn’t get to speak down to me just because he was bigger, more articulate, and more charming than most. Maybe nobody had ever stood up to him out of fear, but I forced myself to channel my inner George—or in Lu’s words, “the bitchwithin.”
“This isn’tmymess,” I said. “It’s as much your fault as mine, and at least I owned up to it.” My voice firmed, and I straightened my back. “Youpretend to be a nice guy to get what you want, and then you dump all over the rest of us because you think you’re better.” A man bold enough to wear a gold tie surely assumed his devastating smile could get him out of anything. Not anymore. I’d never gotten the chance to tell Neal off the way he deserved, so for my former self, I continued, “Well, guess what? You’renotbetter. You’re worse. You told that woman to apologize, but you should take your own advice, you entitledasshole.”
He froze in the middle of sopping up the drink and raised his beautiful green eyes to mine. “You’ll call a stranger an asshole, but you can’t even stand up for your supposedfriend?”
As triumph coursed through me, shame followed. I remembered now why I hated confrontation. I wasn’t good at it. I always folded. And more often than not, panic stole my words, leaving me without a defense. What could I even say? The man was right. I’d left a lifelong friend high and dry. As much as I wanted to think standing up for myself meant my confidence had finally returned, it was still hanging by a tenuousthread.
A few hot, frustrated tears slid over my cheeks. I quickly turned my face away, horrified that I’d given him the satisfaction of seeing me cry. Without looking back, I turned on my heel and bolted out of thecafé.
2
Sebastian
With handfulsof soggy napkins and coffee splatter on my freshly pressed Tom Ford shirt, I stared out the door after a woman who’d just called me anentitled assholein front of a café full ofpeople.
Life was really testing me this morning. It was one of the first days of fall, the crisp, colorful kind that would’ve normally made for a great start to the week—but not this one. Not even a beautiful woman or a grenade of an insult could make me forget thedate.
As I’d hung up with Justin moments ago, my first instinct had been to call my mom and ask for advice. It didn’t seem fair that Icouldn’t.
Not that anything about her death had seemedfair.
Could it really be possible that as of today, she’d been gone one wholeyear?
Each time that reality came crashing down, it was no less crushing, but this morning, I needed her more than ever. As if I wasn’t already navigating an emotional minefield of memories, I’d just found out my job was under threat too. The universe had pretty much dumped an ice-cold, extra-cream-and-sugar coffee on my Monday—and all over an auburn-haired beauty whose freckles disappeared when her facereddened.
A fact I only knew because I’d upset her. I’d made her cry.Me.
What would Mom have said to the way I’d spoken to her? Without a doubt, there would’ve been a verbal ass-whooping. The hole in my soul deepened a little with the knowledge that my mother would never put me in my place again—then hug me and tell me how to fixit.
A mop appeared in my line of sight. Luciano, thebarista.
