Apples & Oranges (The This & That Series) (17 page)

BOOK: Apples & Oranges (The This & That Series)
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“Thanks a bunch, Trey!” A man called from inside a Hyndai that resembled a tic tac with wheels. “Tell your yiayia hi for me.”

             
Trey peeled his eyes away from mine long enough to give him a nod before he fired up his engine and pulled out of the parking lot. As soon as the mobile breath mint moved, it revealed two people caught in an embrace at the far end of the garage.

             
Demo and Stacia.

             
His hands were on her overly tanned shoulders, and her fingers were tangled in his dark hair. Their mouths were mashed together in in a kiss that was as frantic as it was passionate, the sound of moaning and damp lip smacking ringing out over the sound of the passing traffic.

             
Anger filled my body like a pitcher, hot and bubbly like lava. “What. The.
Hell
?” I snarled, pulling my arm back and launching the plate of cookies at the two of them.

             
“Oh, snap!” Trey said behind me.

When the plate landed with a deafening shatter at their feet, Demo’s
open eyes landed on me.

“Marisol!” He croaked, pushing
Stacia away and stepping towards me. His boots crackled on the shards of broken glass. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

“Oh, no you don’t.” I held up a finger and wagged it at Demo. “Don’t use a line like that on me. I
invented
that line, do you understand me?”

Stacia
turned around and surveyed all of the glass. “Crazy bitch.”

Swallowing back my tears, I forced myself to throw my head back and laugh. “Honey, you have no idea.”

Demo approached me like a tiger about to pounce. His hands out, his posture crouched and cautious. “Listen, Marisol,
she
was kissing
me
. Not the other way around. I was trying to make her leave.”

“With your tongue down her throat?” I leveled a glare at him. “Really, Demo?”
              “Demo, stop playing games with the poor woman,” Stacia said, putting her hands on her bony hips. “Tell her about us.”

“Shut up,
Stacia.” He pointed to a bright red car parked down the block. “Go home.”

Stacia
seethed in her spot, steam practically pouring out her nostrils. “Are you kidding me?”

“No. Go.” Demo turned back to me, his eyes wide and apologetic. “Listen, Marisol, let’s go into the office, and talk—”

I reached into my purse and pulled out my keys. “No need.” Walking backwards away from him, I nudged my head in Trey’s direction, who was still standing there with arms raised like I’d been holding up the shop. “But do yourself a favor next time, Demo. Don’t put your nephew in charge of recon. He sucks at it.”

“Recon? What?” He glowered at Trey. “That isn’t what he was doing.”

“Whatever, Demo.” I turned and stalked back to where my car was parked. I could hear his heavy footsteps following me. “Honestly, it doesn’t even matter. Because it’s not like we were exclusive, or anything.”

“In my eyes, we were,” he growled.

I turned around and rested a hand on the car roof casually. Stacia gave me the finger behind Demo’s back. “It sure didn’t look exclusive to me. And frankly, I think your friend over there thinks differently.”


She
kissed
me
.” He laced his fingers around the back of his neck and started to pace. “I told you that I had a past, and that I dated Stacia. She’s having a hard time letting go, that’s all.”

“It’s hard to let go when the man is dry humping you in the parking lot of his work,” I said flatly.

“I wasn’t dry humping her!” Demo drug a hand down his face. “She threw herself at me. I was just trying to—”

“If you say let her down easy, I’m going to vomit. Seriously.” I unlocked my car, and threw my purse inside. Yanking my sunglasses off of the dashboard, I shoved them onto my face, practically knocking myself out in the process.
Anything to hide the emotion that was clogging my throat and liquefying my eyes. The last thing I needed was for him to see how crushed I felt. “Listen to me, Demo. See whomever you want. Kiss whomever you want. Screw whomever you want. I don’t care. We were just having fun acting like two chaste little teenagers. But I get it. An adult man has
needs.
I’ve heard it all before. And the truth is, an adult woman has needs, too. Which is why… I’ve got a date… tomorrow.”

             
The lie fell out of my mouth and bounced on the pavement at Demo’s feet. His mouth dropped open, and he gaped at me. “You’re going on a date?”

             
The wheels on Stacia’s car squealed as she peeled away from the curb, and I laughed bitterly. “Yeah.” I shrugged, pretending to be nonchalant even though I wanted to lie down in the backseat of my car to weep and suck my thumb for a while. “After the Rosewood Bridge Club tea party tomorrow I’m going out with a business associate. He’s an ad exec in town for the week. We’re old friends, if you know what I’m saying.” I paused dramatically. “You’re not upset, are you?”

             
Silence stretched out between us, the only sound filling the space was the air compressor in the garage, which I was pretty sure Trey was doing on purpose. Finally, after about a minute-long stare down, Demo straightened his shoulders and wiped sweat off of his tanned brow.

             
“Nope,” he said finally. “Have a good time, Marisol.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Fifteen

 

             
I popped a flower shaped cucumber sandwich into my mouth and chewed thoughtfully. Thanks to Yiayia’s baklava a while back—and the tacos from Miguel/Mike’s truck—I’d spent more time on the treadmill at the gym than in my own bed at night. The white bread lathered in cream cheese I was chewing on wasn’t going to help the situation, but I didn’t care. I’d been dumped. Again. And I wasn’t taking it well.

             
Every time I saw my friends with their husbands, I mourned the absence of such a relationship in my own life. Take Candace and Brian, for instance. They’d been mad for each other for since they were nineteen, and from what Candace told me, the passion was as hot as it had been when they’d lost their virginity to each other. Their life together—the house, the kids, the matching ugly Christmas sweater holiday photo cards they sent out every year—was like the gold ring on the carousel I was trying desperately to grab. But kept falling short.

             
I really thought I’d found it in Demo.

             
He was different. He occupied all my thoughts, and I felt his presence around me even when we were apart. It didn’t matter to me how much of an A hole he acted like, because I knew there was this caring, family oriented man deep down inside, underneath his crusty mechanic exterior. The idea of merely kissing him made my skin warm and sweat prick at my hairline. He made me fantasize—not about being tied up with silk scarves or having sex in an elevator, like I used to wonder about—but about waking up to the sound of Saturday cartoons playing downstairs, or the chaos that an Antonopolous family Christmas dinner would bring into my otherwise empty home.

             
The truth was… I was starting to think I—gulp—loved him.

             
Shoving another cucumber sandwich into my mouth, I tried to bury my unrequited feelings beneath a blanket of cream cheese.

             
After all these years, and all those men, I’d finally fallen. At the feet of a mechanic. Who has a giant Greek family. And a girlfriend named Stacia.

             
THUD. I bent at the waist, and my head hit the wooden tabletop. I whimpered.

             
“Oh, dear,” Lexie said as she and Candace came into the kitchen to find me bent at the waist and hunched over the table. “It’s taken a turn for the worse.”

             
They’d spend the bulk of the tea party correcting my mistakes. When I’d placed the petit fours down on the tables before serving the scones, Candace had swooped in to replace the silver platter. When I’d served rose bush tea instead of earl grey, Lexie had apologized for my faux pas and won over the room of old ladies with a story about baby Ian. After over a decade of friendship that (mostly) involved me acting superior and confident, I’d been reduced to a weepy, red-nosed, lovesick sap.

             
If this was love, I was done. This crap was for the birds.

             
Candace put her arms around me, and lifted me back into a standing position. “Mar? Come on. Pull it together. We need you.”

             
“I want to go home.” I sniffled and wiped my nose on a crumpled napkin. “You two can handle the tea party. It’s practically over now. We can all split. They won’t even miss us. Pack up the trays.”

             
“They haven’t even paid us yet.” Lexie pointed out. “You need to find Mrs. Harrison and ask for final payment. She still owes a hundred and sixty-four dollars.”

             
“You can get it,” I whined. I was usually the one who collected final payment from our clients. But my no-nonsense attitude had been replaced by Eeyore’s pitiful “poor me” gig. And it hurt even more that I actually knew—thanks to Candace’s kids—who Eeyore was.

             
Candace rubbed my arms. “Come on. Perk up for me.”

             
“I can’t…” I wiped my eyes. “I don’t want to.”

             
“Well, you have to,” she said, smiling gently. “There’s someone—”

             
“It’s so easy for the two of you.” I wriggled away from my friends and went to grab a couple more cucumber sandwiches. “You’re both happily married to
doctors,
for hell’s sake. You’ve got kids and carpools, and I’ve got an empty house and an annoying, pissed off cat—”

             
“I told you not to get that thing,” Lexie interrupted.

             
“I love Cocinero!”
I bellowed, before dissolving into tears again. Lexie put their fingers to her lips, and Candace put an arm around my shoulders as I dropped my voice down lower. “But honestly. Look at you two. It’s so easy for you to tell me to perk up. You’ve both got the perfect lives. Your husbands are best friends, and your families barbeque together every weekend. Aren’t they golfing together tomorrow?”

             
They nodded in unison. “What does that have to do with anything?” Lexie asked.

             
Candace elbowed her. “Marisol wants what we have.”
              Part of me wanted to argue with her. Point out the fact that fifty percent of all marriages wind up going through a divorce, and that they’ll spend the rest of their lives screwing the same man. But I knew it was a moot point. Because now all I wanted was to spent the rest of my own life screwing the same man.

             
Didn’t see that one coming.

             
Too bad I’d lied to him and told him I had a hot date with an imaginary businessman.

             
Lexie took one of my hands in hers. “Listen, Mar. I know you’re feeling awful right now, but all is not lost. What you’re feeling… it’s called
love.
And I know you’re scared, because it’s such a big feeling, and everything. But it’s
normal.
And if you tell Demo how you’re feeling, I’m almost certain he’ll say he’s feeling it, too. That’s how it works, you see.”

             
“Stop talking to me like I’m eight years old,” I snapped, blowing my nose. “I know what love is.”

             
“But you admit you’ve never felt it before,” Candace said gently.

             
“Well, not for a man. Hell, I don’t even know if I love my own parents.” I looked up at my friends, the only people in the world I’d ever cared about more than myself. “I’ve only ever loved you guys. And that stupid cat.”

             
Candace and Lexie froze, their eyes wide.

After about five seconds,
Lexie blinked. “I’m sorry. Um… what?”

             
I gestured at the two of them. “You guys. I love you guys. You’re like the only family I’ve ever known. Don’t you know that?”

             
Candace pressed a hand to her chest. “I feel like we’re having a major breakthrough here.”

             
“Me too, right?” Lexie wiped the corner of her eyes. “I mean, I always knew you cared about us. I mean, why on earth would you choose Spokane of all places to settle down?”

             
“It’s because you guys, and your husbands and kids, are everything.” Another fresh crop of tears filled my eyes. “Wherever you guys are, that’s home.”

             
Lexie sniffled and put her arm around Candace. “We love you, too, Marisol.”

             
Candace reached out and wiped a tear off the end of my chin. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

             
“What for?” I reluctantly let her tug me towards a nearby sink. “I just had an emotional breakthrough. Shouldn’t that make me exempt from work for the rest of the night?”

             
“Under normal circumstances, yes.” Lexie turned on the cold water, dunked her hands, and started patting my puffy face. “But tonight you have something to do.”

             
“What?” I grumbled. “I’ve already lost love and professed love in one night.”

             
“True.” Candace tugged my hair out of its ponytail and ran her hands through it. “But there’s someone here to see you.”

             
My insides froze. “Excuse me?”

             
Lexie beamed like a proud mother. “Your face isn’t red anymore. Except your nose. That’ll go away in a while.”

             
I grabbed her shoulders. “Who’s here?”

             
“Well, go outside and see for yourself,” she giggled.

             
Sure enough, outside the back kitchen door stood Demo, with a bouquet of purple and white lilacs in his arms. Once again, he’d recently showered and shaved, as his face was soft and devoid of all whiskers, and his hair had been combed and gelled into submission. He was wearing wrinkled cargo khakis—I would have bet money that those were his nicest pair of pants—and a light grey tee shirt.

             
“Um, hi?” he said as I approached.

             
I prayed he couldn’t see my red nose in the dwindling sunlight. “What are you doing here?”

             
“Stopping you from going on a date with another guy.” Demo handed me the bouquet. “These are from my yard. I’ve got more than I can stand, so when they die, I’ll bring you some more.”

             
I smelled them. They were so fragrant and sweet, I sighed blissfully. “They’re great. Thank you.”

             
Demo’s gaze intensified. “I’ll bring you fresh ones every single day, if I have to. I’m sorry, Marisol.”

             
I looked up at him and bit the insides of my cheeks to keep from tearing up. Again. “I’m sorry, too.”

             
“I should have called after our date, and I know it.” He shook his head. “It’s just that I didn’t want to scare you away. You keep telling me that you’ve never stayed in a relationship, so I didn’t want to come across to strong.”

             
I winced. Lexie was right. I hated it when that happened. “I know. And I could have called, too.”

             
“What I think is happening here,” he said with a smile. “Is a case of two people who have no idea
how
to be in a relationship
want
to be in a relationship.”

             
I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re probably right.”

             
“Listen, Stacia and me… we’re not dating.” Demo shook his head, frowning. “We went out a few times a couple of months ago. We met at a bar, and fooled around. I…” He pressed his lips together, and his face reddened. “I slept with her a few times. That’s why she’s having a hard time letting go. I never promised her anything. I was always honest with her and told her I didn’t want a relationship. But I think she thought I’d come around.”

             
This story was all too familiar for me. I’d lost count of how many times I’d slithered out of someone’s bed, knowing he wanted a commitment from me I would never deliver on. “And you didn’t?” I sighed.

             
“No.” He shook his head. “She keeps coming to my place and to Triple D’s. She shows up and talks to Yiayia, who can’t stand her. Yesterday she just lunged at me. I was pushing her away when you saw us. I wasn’t kissing her back, Marisol. I swear it.”

             
I smiled. “I knew I liked Yiayia for a good reason.”

Demo sighed. “That’s why I’ve been moving slow with you. I don’t want to go to
o far, too fast. I’m trying to make this last, because…” His words petered out, and he shrugged. “I don’t know. I just feel more for you.”

             
“I know.” I reached out and laced my fingers with his. “I feel more, too.”

             
Tell him you love him.

             
No. Too fast. Don’t scare him away.

             
Tell him!

             
I opened my mouth at the same time he spoke again.

             
“Can I take you somewhere?” Demo asked softly. “Somewhere important?”

             
“Sure.” I beamed, tugging him towards his tow truck parked on the street. “Whisk me away, Mr. Apple.”

             
“Apple?” He looked at me quizzically, but I just laughed.

 

***

 

              “Holy crap,” I breathed as soon as we pulled onto Lincoln Lane. We were a few blocks north of the park where we’d watched the play, only it had been transformed into a gorgeous block party that had taken over the whole street. There were twinkling lights and paper lanterns hanging between the telephone poles; multicolored flags strung along rectangular tables that bore every kind of food imaginable (mostly Greek, of course); and a deejay was playing fiftie’s’ music while couples, old and young, danced. It was magical.

BOOK: Apples & Oranges (The This & That Series)
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