Page 44 of Mixed Connection
“I can’t answer that question for you. What I can say is that your intuition won’t steer you wrong. You’ve worked so hard on yourself the last few years, bettering your coping skills to handle whatever life throws at you. And this is no different,” she reassures me with a gentle smile.
“But what if—” No, fuck that. Fuck the what-ifs. I need to claim why I’m so consumed with not being an option. “This feels scarier. It feels different.”
“Cassidy, itisdifferent. And different is okay. I have every confidence in you being able to navigate this. Treat this like any other relationship—not one with a hot man,” she says chuckling lightly. “What would you do?”
I sigh before responding, “I would look at the relationship objectively and trust the foundation we’ve started to build. If this is meant to be, it will be, and I will have faith that we will both make the right decisions for ourselves.”
“See, you have those natural instincts within you. Don’t let fear hold you back from what you want because of what-ifs or else you’ll be stuck in the same place.”
“You’re right.” I smile at her, feeling a twinge of confidence build in my chest. “Thanks, Donna. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“I think we both just witnessed how far you’ve come from our first sessions. You figured it out on your own. I just nudged you a little bit,” she says. “Our session is up for the day, but I’m so glad you called me for a check in. It was lovely to hear from you, Cassidy.”
“Thank you as always, Donna. Have a good rest of your day.” We end the call and I take a deep breath.
Jameson has done nothing but show me he is trustworthy and honest. The questions that linger in my head are more of my own insecurities, and not anything he has or hasn’t done. I trust him and I think it’s time for us to have a conversation about what we are doing.
“Phone for you, Cass. They say it’s important!” Brianna yells from the back storage closet. I shake my head, pulling myself out of my thoughts before standing to pop my head out, looking at her as she covers the mouthpiece of the phone and shout-whispers at me, “They sound panicked and asked to speak to the owner.” She shrugs, her eyebrows climbing to her hairline.
I normally have all my calls routed to my cell phone during the day but I’ve been trying to delegate a bit more now that we’ve brought on Brianna full-time. Initially, she wanted to stay part-time but when she started talking about an art showcase she was going to miss out on, I may have mentioned we needed someonehere to assist during the day, which we do. I didn’t want her to feel pressured to say yes, having shared her work boundaries early on. B came in the morning one day and asked me if I would consider giving her a few more hours a week so she could save for the showcase. It felt natural to give her a permanent position, now she can make more money and have benefits. I told her by the time the showcase comes around, she would have accrued enough time to take the week and half off, paid. She leapt out of her chair and into my lap. I would have given her the time off regardless.
I wave a hand back at her and quicken my pace to the office. “Shaken Tropes, where your next steamy chapter is a sip away. What’s your pleasure?” I say, not really knowing who to expect.
“Hello, are you the owner of-of Shaken Tropes?’’ Her voice is tight but pleasant, and B was right, she does sound panicked. The line goes quiet, or as quiet as it can given the heavy breathing on the other side.
“Yes, one of them, I’m Cassidy. How can I help you?” We don’t often get complaints. Honestly, I have never had to take a call like this. Or at least what I’m assuming this is. A muffled cough comes through before they continue speaking.
“I, um. Well…Fucking hell.’’ The last two words are more of an angry whisper to herself. “Okay, well. I’m not sure if this is something you even offer, but my sister is getting married in a little over a month and I’m sorta-kinda planning her bachelorette weekend. I’ve got all these really fucking great literary events happening during her weekend, but one drunken night she yelled about wanting to go dancing in a library and your bar is the closest thing I could find to it. Please tell me this is something you can accommodate… pleeeease tell me you have a library we can dance in.”
Gobsmacked. I think she said all that in one single sentence, I don’t remember hearing her take a single breath as shestammered through her request. We normally like to keep the music low and vibey but I can’t bring myself to tell this girl no. She clearly wants to give her sister the best bachelorette party she could ask for and somehow I don’t think any of our customers would mind. If this takes off and our customers love it, we could make Dancing in the Library a monthly thing. Imagining music jamming in the background as people dance, drinks in hand, while others joke and talk with their friends over our loaded potato wedges. I pull my bottom lip into my mouth, holding on to it with my teeth as I grin. “Actually, yes, I do have a library you can dance in.”
“I knew it was a longshot but I—wait…You do!” The anxiety and panic from her voice are in the rear view. Replaced now, with a giant sigh of relief and joy. “Thank, fuck. Oh, my God. I am so sorry. I hate calling people. It makes me so nervous. You saying yes wasn’t a part of my script.” She laughs.
I’ve never been a fan of calling people either, if I can find a way to send an email, I will. I give her all the details and let her know not to worry about the deposit she was begging to pay me. She isn’t renting out the whole space and this feels like a small gift I can give to someone. It sounds like she could use a pick-me-up and I’m glad to be the one to deliver.
I learned her name is Candice. Her sister, Jennifer, is getting married in the next couple of months to the love of her life. Both her and her sister have always loved romance novels and Jennifer’s soon-to-be husband works in publishing. It sounded like Candice has a wonderful brother-in-law-to-be who could have been “written by a woman”—her words, not mine. But we both laughed nonetheless.
She apologized multiple times at her last minute request but again, they planned to come and enjoy what we already have. Which is exactly why, as soon as I ended the call with Candice, I dialed Lo’s number. I gushed about throwing the bacheloretteparty here. The library that I promised we had, now needs to get done as soon as possible. We have to turn Shaken Tropes into something those girls can really get down in.
I make my way back into the office to get all the details into the calendar so I don’t forget. I scribble a note for Lo on the desk calendar, she is going to get in touch with Crew Construction and Consult. I make it a point to emphasize that we all need to have a sit-down meeting to get it done, and if need be have Anderson call me directly. All hands on deck as they say.
I’m so glad I’m not working tonight, I’m exhausted from this week. My delicious bulldozer has been staying over at night, fawning over me until he devours me later in the evening. My skin warms thinking of the things he said to me this morning. I’ve come to think of him more and more as mine. Even though the commitment absolutely scares the shit out of me and we haven’t spoken about what we mean to one another, it pops up unbidden in my mind. I’m falling head over heels for him and I don’t want these feelings to end. I make my final notes in the calendar and close the office door, before making my way upstairs.
Loosening up my shoulders, I feel lighter already. This bachelorette party is exactly what I need after the break-in. Something I can throw my creative brain into and get back to normalcy. I’m not one of those people who can stay still when life throws punches, I need to be busy. My parents’ passing forced me to focus on finishing school and get Shaken Tropes off the ground. Keeping my mind focused on the future is how I find my sunshine.
Just as I’m slipping my feet into a pair of my fluffy slippers, my pocket chirps. I’ve never been so glad to be home alone when I see who text me because the goofy grin has become a permanent fixture on my face. Maybe he isn’t as much of a bulldozer as he is sunshine.
Bulldozer
Hey Babygirl, I’m jumping in the shower and heading over to you afterwards!
Before I can reply another text from him comes through.
Bulldozer
How do you feel about a change of plans?
What kind of change are you thinking?
