Page 33 of All Twerk, No Play

“Shitfaced,” Kate confirmed. “You made me promise that we’d figure it out together because you couldn’t go back to another shitty job with a sleazy boss who hit on you.”

Mallory burst into laughter. “True. I’m completely unemployable.”

“You didn’t have Grace then, babe. Neither of us knew what we were doing, yet you convinced me to open the gallery. We both made a million mistakes and worked way more hours than we should have.”

“Better than waiting tables,” Mallory repeated.

“And didn’t pay as well,” Kate replied, before reaching for Mallory’s hand. “We were terrified but we figured it out, because we’re scrappy bitches. It got easier when you hired Grace, but it was stillyourstudio. Even without Grace, you still have me. And now?” Kate surprised me by pointing a finger at me. “Now, you’ve got her. The scrappiest bitch of them all.”

Mallory’s hopeful face cautiously turned to me.

I hadn’t wanted to get this involved with her business. I’d intended to placate Alexander’s need to be close to his family. I’d wanted a tenant who would pay her rent on time so that when I walked away, this building wouldn’t become a financial liability.

But in the past hour, something inside me had shifted. I could blame it on the tequila, but that wasn’t it, not entirely. Mallory had rallied to my side instead of backing up her brother. I’d never expected that.

Then again, my only relevant experience was Beverly always validating Spencer’s behavior, no matter how foul.

Mallory’s lighthearted approach to life sometimes came off as flaky, but she was kind, fierce, and loyal. I recognized her latent ambition, just like I’d seen in her brother ten years ago. Maybe his had gone dormant, but seeing his sister’s success—or her exceeding his low expectations, growing beyond his reach—might wake him up.

Resolved, I held out my hand. “This isn’t a favor, Mallory, it’s a business transaction. I wouldn’t offer you space in my building if I didn’t believe you deserved it.”

She cursed under her breath and looked to Kate for a reassuring nod. Her small hand slid into mine and pumped firmly, triggering an electric current up my arm. “Ok, where do I sign?”

“I’ll have the paperwork ready tomorrow,” Connor said, walking up beside me and nudging my shoulder with the foil of the unopened champagne bottle. Because he’s the best goddamn assistant I could ask for, and worth every penny of his increased salary and relocation stipend.

“Now somebody’s definitely going to have to drive me home,” Mallory laughed as I smoothly popped the cork and Connor caught the overflow in a cheap champagne flute.

“To new beginnings,” I said, holding up the glass in a toast.

Mallory downed hers and held it out for a refill. “Never would have expected when you barged into the studio right before Christmas that it would turn into this. God, I was so pissed later when Kate told me I missed you.”

I hid my surprise that she remembered me at all—let alone that she was disappointed to not see me.

“You were there?” I asked Kate. I’d only come to collect Alexander, I hadn’t paid attention to the two dozen students. “You recognized me?”

“From that graduation photo in the Clarkes’ house,” Kate said with a playful smirk, taking the flute from Connor. "Also when we were seventeen Mallory was obsessed with you."

“Not obsessed. Impressed she could shut Alex up with a glare. Wish I could have seen it in December …”

“I wish I’d seen you, too,” I said, surprising myself by realizing that it was true. “You could have grabbed his other ear to set him straight.”

She released a melodious laugh. “I got the next best thing, though. Kate reenacted it for me.” Mallory said, nudging her friend. “Come on, Kate, show her.”

Kate nervously spun her engagement ring. “Nah, she doesn’t want to see—”

“Show her, show her!” Mallory said, plunking herself cross-legged in the center of the floor, dust bunnies fluttering beside her.

I covered my face, not wanting to see a dramatic reenactment of my frustration. “That’s ok, you don’t need—”

“Come on, please?” Connor sat with legs outstretched beside Mallory, tugging on my hand to join him. “I missed all of this, catch me up.”

Kate muttered a curse, holding out her hands in apology. “Let me state for the record that she’s making me do this. You know she won’t quit nagging, so it’s better to shut her up.”

“So noted,” I said, kneeling beside Connor on the cold wood floor, dreading the dust mites clinging to my skirt.

The dusk light shone a makeshift spotlight on Kate. She nervously looked down at her feet, exhaled a long breath, rolled her shoulders, then lifted her head. All the nerves were gone, her expression calm and focused.

“Ok, picture this: We’re in a self-defense class, paired up to practice wrist releases,” Kate said, throwing punching motions. “Everybody is yelling and laughing, music blaring loud and wild. All of a sudden … silence.” Kate snapped her fingers. Her body stilled. “We all whipped around to the speakers, where this sexy redhead was rocking a resting bitch face,” Kate crossed her arms and pursed her lips. Connor’s laughter burst out at her impression—even I felt a smile creep in. Kate lifted her chin, scanning the empty studio behind us, and spoke crisply, “I’m here for Alexander Clarke.”

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