Unsettled (4 page)

AT ONE O’CLOCK I
headed downstairs to Muffins to eat my lunch. I preferred the ambiance of the coffee shop compared to the sterile lunch room housed inside the Copple suite, hands down. Up until lunch I had been swamped trying to finish cost of sale analysis before my Monday deadline.

It was still a little brisk outside, so I decided to search for seating inside. The smell of freshly baked goods and Arabica beans welcomed me as I entered the store. While I looked for a private table near the window, I found myself being tempted to purchase a container of their signature vegetable and grain country salad. My mouth watered as I toiled over whether or not to pony up the eight bucks for the dish. Ultimately I resisted the temptation and ate my ham sandwich and Caesar side salad I’d packed.

I arrived back to my desk at two o’clock and didn’t hear any more from Trent. The next time I glanced at the clock on my computer screen it was already five in the afternoon. I hurried to shut down my computer and gather my belongings. Trent was notorious for beckoning me to complete last-minute projects that were due “no later than COB.” I quickly learned that his super lame acronym stood for “close of business” which meant that I’d end up working unpaid overtime.

I quickly walked away from my desk and out of the building with one thought on my mind: Appleberry martinis.

As I attempted to pull open the front door to head home, someone simultaneously pushed the door inward from the opposite side. My face collided with the glass door due to the swift push. I placed my hand on my nose, rubbing it in circles.

“Ah! That hurt!” I grunted, underneath my breath. The nerve endings in my nose were on fire.

“Are you all right?” a vaguely familiar voice asked, stifling a laugh at my expense, I was sure.

It only took a few seconds for my mind to register that I was in front of the guy from earlier that morning.

“I’m fine,” I replied, exasperated. “What are you doing here? Are you some type of stalker?” All my years of watching murder mysteries made me hypersensitive to unfamiliar people and my surroundings.

I shifted my eyes away from his face so that I could focus on my throbbing nose…and stop admiring his features. I couldn’t help myself though—I looked again. Regardless of his good looks, I attempted to give him my fiercest evil eye, while I awaited his response to my question.

“Uh…I am not accustomed to laying out my daily agenda to strangers,” he responded, a cocky smile plastered on his face. “But I guess in this case I can make an exception. I’ve been locked up in meetings all day with Ron Evans in the Strategic Planning department.”

The cogs in my head started turning as I processed his response.
He was a client? Oh GAWD! I’m an idiot!
I attempted to recover from his admission without revealing my complete and utter embarrassment at my previous comment. In the moment I was thankful that my skin tone didn’t reveal the expansive blush that had crept up my neck to my cheeks.

“Oh…okay…” I said, flustered. His cologne and slightly cocky demeanor were affecting me and I wasn’t quite sure why.

“I’m Logan Colton by the way,” Logan said, extending his hand.

“Brooklyn Caldwell,” I answered, while taking his hand into mine, offering a cordial handshake.

“Nice to meet you, Brooklyn” he said, with a smirk. “Well I’d better get going before I’m late to this evening’s meet and greet” he said, unenthusiastically.

“Nice to meet you also, Mr. Colton,” I replied. I attempted to move past him and get out the door.

“Please call me Logan,” he replied, chuckling slightly.

“Logan it is then,” I responded curtly with a nod.

I proceeded out the door of Copple into the evening air, allowing the strong winds to funnel my hair around my face—the same way my brain was wrapped around perplexing thoughts of who I now knew to be Logan Colton.

3

I
arrived at Legends a quarter past five. The cobblestone building was always a welcome sight. The white and green Heineken sign glowed in the window next to the entrance. Fond memories of all the great laughs Alex and I shared at Legends crossed my mind as I pulled open the wood and wrought iron door and stepped into the dimly lit grill. I let the chatter and the slightly dank smell of rainwater from the floor mats wash over me. The bar was considerably busy for a chilly Thursday evening.

Alex and I had been coming to Legends on Thursday nights for over two years and had an unofficial standing reservation. There weren’t any red VIP ropes preventing others from sitting in our booth, but Griffin, the owner, had jokingly suggested on occasion that we carve our initials underneath the table. Alex and I liked Legends because it reminded us of Blue Martini, a lounge back in Los Angeles.

Brandon, the bartender, was standing in front of the illuminated steel Legends sign waiting on two guys in suits. He caught my eye from across the room and tossed a wink in my direction. As I strode down the planked walkway past the sapphire pendant lights, I smiled and quickly waved to him.

I made my way to the back of the grill and shrugged off my peacoat before I settled into our booth. Alex cracked a wide smile when I sat down.

“What took you so long Brooklyn? I started to think you weren’t coming.”

“Of course I was coming. I’m the one who reminded you this morning, remember?”

“True, but I know how much of a douche Trent can be. Knowing him, he’d make you stay late at work just to alphabetize his coffee collection or some shit like that.”

“Hey!” I cried, feigning irritation and pretending to plug my ears with my fingers. “I thought we agreed that his name was banned in our fun zone,” I said, rolling my eyes and attempting to hide the smile creeping across my face. Martinis, thoughts of my douche bag boss, and my inability to climb the corporate ladder were all recipes to drink myself into an alcohol-induced stupor.
Ignore, Ignore, Ignore.

“You’re right. I’m sorry Brooklyn. Here’s to your douche bag boss!” Alex playfully cajoled, raising her glass in a mocking toast while covering her mouth to stifle a giggle.

“Dang Alex, it seems like you’ve had your fill of martinis without me!” I teased while flailing my arm toward Lisa, our waitress, so that I could order a drink.

“I probably have; I told Lisa to have Brandon make ‘em strong tonight,” Alex immediately deadpanned and tilted her head slightly.

“Why, what’s going on…?” I asked, looking Alex directly in the eye and instinctively biting my lip. It was never good when Alex proclaimed she needed a stiff drink. Both of us were lightweights really.

“You know how stressed I get working at the firm. There is so much pressure, and I just pray that I passed the freaking exam! Every time I run into Morrison he uses our passing as an opportunity to quiz me with potential case scenarios and waits for my rebuttal. I am dealing with enough stress without having to make myself look smarter in front of one of the senior partners. I just have a lot on my plate, that’s all,” she sighed.

“You’ll be fine, I have faith in you. You killed the LSAT and blew through law school. I am sure you breezed through the bar exam. You’re super smart Alex” I said encouragingly.

I noticed that my pep talk hadn’t really spurred Alex’s spirits the way I had hoped.

“There’s something else that’s weighing on my mind, Brooklyn. I didn’t bring it up earlier because I really didn’t want you to freak out…” she said, sighing and wringing her hands. Red flags flew up, daggering the soft tissue of my brain. I felt the tension mounting in my chest.

“Spill…
you are freaking me out
,” I said, trying to keep my calm. I really just wanted to enjoy our night out, but based on Alex’s trepidation, that now seemed unlikely.

“Well, a few days ago Jay called me while I was at work...” she said, carefully gauging my reaction.

“And…?” I asked exasperated. I hated when Alex had to break news. Every situation turned into a national incident of detrimental proportions.

“Damon is coming to D.C. in a couple weeks…” she said in a barely audible whisper. Alex broke eye contact with me to rouse the pink infusion in her glass with the rock-candy stirring stick.

The minute Alex uttered his name I was pretty sure I stopped breathing for a second. I checked back into the conversation long enough to comprehend that Damon wanted to stay at our row house to spend some much-needed quality time with Jay, since they were best friends and all.

“I know how he hurt you, but Jay was hoping you’d be okay with him staying at the house. I told him I doubted it, but I thought I would check with you anyway. Brooklyn, did you hear what I said?” Alex’s question snapped me back into the present. Just then Lisa arrived with my martini in tow and placed it in front of me. Lisa had perfect timing.

“Thanks, Lisa,” I said.

I immediately took a sip of my drink to avoid flipping out. I stared back at Alex as I took another sip of my martini, letting the alcohol burn my vocal cords. I was having trouble coming up with something positive to say.

“Brooklyn?” she asked, again.

“Yeah, I heard you. Damon wants to stay at our place for a while; it’s not a huge deal Alex. We split up ages ago. I’ve moved on from him and I’m sure he has too. I thought you had something juicier to tell me, like Brandon hit on you! Now that would be news!” I let out a low purr and winked in an attempt to lighten the rapidly changing mood at our table. I could tell Alex didn’t believe me.

“I can’t change what happened with Damon,
he left me
. I am here in the great District of Columbia,” I fanned my hand in the air, for emphasis, “attempting to make a life for myself and that doesn’t include dwelling on my past.”

I sipped my martini again to mask my true feelings of sorrow. I wasn’t delusional enough to believe the web of deceit I was weaving for Alex’s benefit. I would never admit to her that I really left SoCal to escape all the memories of my relationship with Damon and the awkward chance encounters during the holiday season. It was embarrassing enough that a year after graduation, I was still shuffling clothes at Bloomingdale’s, the same part-time job I held while attending college.

“Brooklyn, don’t try to BS me. He shattered your soul. Don’t act like him visiting won’t bother you.”

I mustered up my best look of indifference. “Look Alex, all this crap happened a long time ago. It’s water under the bridge as far as I’m concerned. It wouldn’t be fair to Jay if I said Damon wasn’t welcome, that’s his family after all. I’d be a certified bitch if I said he should get a hotel room.” Although I secretly wished he would.

“There really is nothing else to say on the topic,” I said, I letting a fake smile form on my lips. After a few more awkward seconds, I began to drum roll my hands on the table.

“Let’s order another round and keep this evening upbeat before we both end up crying in a corner on D Street. Beating hobos away with a stick isn’t my idea of a good time! Aren’t we here to let loose?” I inquired smoothly, attempting to change the topic completely.

Alex cracked a small smile, and I could tell she was measuring my words thoughtfully.

“Yeah... I guess you’re right,” she said, nodding slowly. Her eyes turned from concern and began to regain their sparkle.

“Come to think of it, I seem to recall you promising to share the steamy details of unsaid late-night experimental trysts with one Jay Carter…” I said, raising my eyebrow.

“Oh…yeah!” she said, her face instantly lighting up like a jack-o’-lantern.

“Get to it then! We’ve just established for the umpteenth time today that my love life is practically non-existent. I want to hear the dirty details of your sex life so I can live vicariously through you!”

Alex took no time accepting my bait and surged into recounting her night of intimacy with Jay. By the time she got to the part where a swing was introduced into the role playing and Jay was moseying around in a hat yelling “YEEHA,” I had tears in my eyes from laughing so hard and picturing the whole fiasco playing out in their tiny bedroom.

After three rounds of martinis we decided to call it a night. I couldn’t drive us home since I had one too many drinks, and Alex was beyond her limit. Lisa offered to call us a cab and we accepted her kind gesture. We sat in our booth a while longer, babbling about insignificant nonsense. Occasionally one of us said something stupid that had us doubled over on our benches in snickering fits.

Eventually Lisa approached our booth to let us know that our taxi had arrived. Alex jumped out of the booth first, tipping slightly in her heels, causing her navy blue dress to swoosh at her knees. I was a little woozy myself, but I’d felt worse.

Alex called out to Brandon, pointing and making cheeky noises. “Until next time. Same time, same place!” she said, slurring slightly. Brandon looked at Alex and shook his head with a grin on his face.

“You guys get home safe!” Brandon called to us from the bar.

“We’ll be fine. See you next week,” I responded with a smile.

“Woo, I’m beat! It’s time to get some shut-eye!” Alex said as she shrugged into her coat and tossed three twenty-dollar bills on the table.