Page 8 of Mixed Connection
“I have to know”—Paloma looks at Janelle—“what is up with your boy Jameson?” My eyes go wide and I turn my head, blatantly staring at her. After hanging out with both Janelle and Jameson for most of the night, they seemed like they were as close of friends as Paloma and I, and I told her just that. I just didn’t think she would bring it up.
“What do you mean?” she asks curiously.
“Aren’t you two good friends?” Confusion is written all over Paloma’s face.
“I mean, we were close in high school. I kind of lost touch with everyone once I enlisted,” she says. “Cassidy, you two were eye fucking the entire night, what happened with that?”
I look around for the exits, why am I suddenly under attack?
“All thateye fuckingand your girl here can’t even get a text back.” Maybe it was me frantically throwing my number in his lap, but I know he was feeling the pull just as much as I was. “I gave him my number, but no call or text. I guess he wasn’t as interested as I thought he was,” I respond, absentmindedly pulling my wine glass to me and realize it’s empty. I shrug myshoulders, and run my finger over the rim of the glass, giving one of my hands something to do.
“Babe, you called me and told me the man looked”—Lo purses her lips— “hmm, how did you put it… Depraved!” She snickers and a blush sneaks up my neck and cheeks.
“Cass, I don’t know. He was eating you up. There is no way that man just up and ghosted you, not that I don’t believe you, because I do. But there has to be an explanation. Do you want me to call him? Kick him in his shin? I’m up for either option,” Janelle offers, toeing her foot softly at my shin.
I shake my head, huffing a frustrated sigh under my breath. “No babe, I’m fine. I’m going to chalk it up to a fun night with friends and those heavy-poured cherry bourbon sours,” I answer, letting her off the hook. If he wanted to connect, he would have. No matter what I say, I can still feel the sagging in my shoulders and the bits of hope I was holding on to flutter away.
Paloma grabs my knee and squeezes. “Enough about men, when are we going to the pool? We can plan our trip while tanning.”
“Lo is right! My parents changed it to a salt water system a few years back and let me tell you… my skin feels as smooooth as a baby’s butt when I get out,” Janelle exclaims as she wraps her arms around herself and rubs them in fake seduction.
Benny walks over, placing a hand on my shoulder before he lays the check on the table. I look down for a moment before snapping my now-narrowed eyes back to him, immediately stuffing my hand in my pocket to quickly pull out my wallet; I decided to come only with the necessities since I walked here. I can hear bits of commotion at the table as I struggle to pull out my credit card. I dare a peek at my best friends, hoping I beat them to the bill.
They are both furiously digging in their bags for their cards. “Trying to pay the tab first I see,” I tease, with a menacing voice. Whipping out my credit card, I slap it in Benny’s outstretched hand as whispered curses and laughs are released around the table. He knows the drill, Paloma and I are constantly attempting to pay the tab before the other.
Before Janelle gets in her rideshare, she looks over at Paloma and me, smiling brightly. We promised that next week, we will get together for a pool day at her parents’ house. We’ll flesh out our trip a bit more and pray Paloma doesn’t become a lobster. I make a mental note, as I wave goodbye to Janelle, that I will pack extra sunscreen just in case.
Paloma drops me off at the bar but doesn’t come up since we will see each other later to open up. Just as my hand reaches for the door I notice a blue and white notice attached to the door knob, I snatch it off and sloppily place it on my desk before making my way upstairs. I’m tipsy and really just want to relax before my shift. It’s probably something new happening at the Night Market. I make a mental note to read the advertisement or review their social media to confirm the events—I love that place.
Lo cut herself off at one drink early into brunch as she knew she would be driving, we are both very serious about drinking and driving, as in, we don’t. End of story. There are too many stories about drunk drivers and accidents, we don’t intend on being a part of the problem.
I strip my clothes off for an oversized Shaken Tropes t-shirt that I cut the neckline out of for more slouch, a pair of comfy shorts, and my bunny-eared fuzzy slippers that I should probably throw away, but I love them too much. All the others I tried to replace them with broke instantly and I don’t want to splurge on a new pair either. They are slippers for God’s sake,let me be comfy. The slap of my slippers against the hardwood floors echoes as I open the fridge and grab a bottled peach tea. I lift my laptop from the bartop counter and plop down on the couch.
The space I created on the top floor of the building is my own personal sanctuary. Plants are hanging all over the place, others set on shelves, really any place I can rest them. I made sure to place hooks along the border of the bay window, giving my favorite spot a place for my pothos to grow.
Though I didn’t want my home and business to be downtown, I still love looking at the skyline once the sun sets. I get a beautiful view of the town day and night.
Floating shelves sandwich the window, all of which house a few of my favorite reads, candles, and plants. I kick off my slippers and dig my toes into the soft, dark-green rug in my living room while I open my laptop to do a last minute inventory before getting down to the bar.
Social media is my Achilles heel and I catch myself scrolling after working through last minute inventory changes Paloma sent over. My eyebrows lift at seeing Jameson cross my screen again and before I can stop myself, I click on “add friend” and promptly slap the top of my laptop down, closing off the heat I feel rising in my cheeks. Sure the FBI is watching me through my camera as I buy more smut, but they will not be catching me blazing with embarrassment over digitally befriending a man, my old teenage freaking crush. I need to draw the line somewhere!
“You know what, it’s fine. So you sent him a friend request after he didn’t bother to text or call you. Maybe he lost it,” I grumble to myself. Though isn’t losing it just as bad? My phone pings with a notification showing me that Jameson accepted my friend request. Hmmm.
Then I notice the time and realize I must have had my head down in the wine order for longer than I thought. I really need to start getting ready. It may be a slower night but we love book club, which is always a hoot. It was an idea from one of our regulars. One night a week to come together, get out of the house, and talk spicy reads together. Paloma ran with it and now we host Toasted Book Club every week!
I know she can handle book club, but I want to be there in case Paloma wants to head out. Kicking off my slippers by my bedroom door, I grab one of the many black Shaken Tropes t-shirts I own and a pair of linen shorts.
Hey babes! Are you already downstairs?
Lo
Yeah, the last minute shipment for the case of wine just came in.
Ooh yummy! Maybe it’ll be slow enough to try it out.
Lo
Mmhm, but you know how the girls at book club get. Lol
