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PEYTON
Small waves crashalong the shore. Salt licks my skin. Cocoa butter and the distinct smell of seaweed float through the air. Seagrasses ruffle in the wind between the parking lot and white sand. The sun bright and high in the cloudless blue sky.
I peek up from my romance thriller as Ani exits the water and treks back to our spot in the sand. For a woman in her late forties, Ani is smoking hot. I have never been sexually attracted to women, but will openly admit when they steal my attention. Ani works hard for everything in her life—physically, emotionally, and financially—and it shows.
Our friendship is one of the greatest gifts, and I thank my lucky stars she entered my checkout line years ago.
Ani has given me so much. More than I ever expected. She provided me with opportunities I wouldn’t have easily come by without her. But she is also a great friend. Without a doubt, one of my best friends—after Reese, of course.
Over the years, my tally of female friends has remained small. One—I don’t have time for petty nonsense. Drama happens, but I don’t need women who provoke and promote drama in my circle. Two—I enjoy the more laid-back nature of guy friends. Plus, guy friends give better hugs when you need them.
But Ani is the exception in my circle. Her drive and no-bullshit attitude make her admirable. She busts her ass for what she wants and ignores everyone who tells her she can’t have something or accomplish her goals. As a woman who wants more from life, I hold Ani in high esteem. With her guidance, I have the opportunity to become a better version of myself too.
Women empowering women tops crushing them beneath your heel any day of the week.
Ani flops down on the lounger next to me, slides her sunglasses into place, and sips her water. “The water feels amazing today. We need more beach dates.”
I bookmark my page and set the book in my bag. “Agreed.” I stare out at the water and how the sun shimmers along the surface like stars. In a blink, my thoughts drift to Micah and his starry-night-sky eyes.
Two weeks have passed since I hung out with him and his friends. Since he wrapped me in his arms and touched me more like a lover than a friend or coworker. Since he texted me from his bed and our conversation went from concerned to heated to confessional.
And since that night, Micah Reed has texted me daily.
Random and not-so random messages. Texts asking how my day was at Gulfside. A barrage of questions in an obvious attempt to learn every fine detail of who I am.
“Favorite style of music?”
“Favorite movie snack?”
“Last show you binge watched.”
“Place you want to visit, but haven’t.”
A different question hit my messages every day. Even days when we would see each other at work. Some I answered within minutes. Others I left unanswered for hours. Not because I didn’t have an answer, but because there is something thrilling about delayed gratification.
“You ready for tonight?”
Tonight… I have been ready and waiting for this day for ages. The day I become more than just a woman behind the bar. The day I take the next step.
“Yes. Already adjusted my schedule at Gulfside.”
“I love that you’ll still be there one day. They’re lucky to have you.”
When Ani called me last weekend and said things were moving forward at Roar, I spoke with human resources at Gulfside. And Ms. Jenkins. HR accepted the change without complication. They understood the younger staff wouldn’t stick to the same routine. But they were excited when we stayed. Ms. Jenkins, on the other hand, was a bit peeved. Not that I would only be at Gulfside one day a week, but that I’d still show up.
The woman loved me as much as Nana did. Wanted to see me thrive in the world. Wanted me to not be “one of those people that works more than lives.” I promised her this change would help me do that. But I still need Gulfside. Need the solace it provides when life is hectic. Need the conversations and interactions with Ms. Jenkins that parallel to those I shared with Nana. Moments I miss more than anything.
“The feeling is mutual.” I take a deep breath and lose focus as I stare out at the water. Then twist to face Ani. “How’s this going down?”
Her legs sweep over the edge of the lounger as she looks my way. A hand pushes her sunglasses into her hair. Eyes survey my face. “Are you nervous?”
Am I nervous? I scrutinize my own feelings. The expanding flutter beneath my diaphragm. The one that sparked to life when Ani called last weekend. But it was the same sensation when I agreed to work for her. Delight. Exhilaration. Having the chance to be more.
But I also can’t ignore the lump in my throat. The one I woke with this morning when realization kicked in. When I stared at the text notification on my phone.
“Morning, hellcat.”
It wasn’t necessarily the text that had my body in slight hysterics. Micah started texting me that same message following the night I hung out with him and his friends. And I love seeing it each morning.
Today, though, his message sent a wave of panic. Has me second-guessing what happens next. Not about the overall change at Roar, but how Micah will react with the announcement. Will he be pissed? Or will he praise me? For some stupid, girlish reason, his reaction matters. Suppose that’s what happens when you get closer with someone.
“Yes,” I answer honestly. “What if this pisses people off?”
“And by people, you mean Micah.” Ani poses it more as a statement than question.
I huff out the irritation I have with myself. Irritation over the fact that I am worried what a guy thinks. “Not just him.” Half-truth. “But also Gina and the others who have been there longer.”
Ani reaches for my hand and clasps it between hers. “This is happening because I want it to. It isn’t just about you. The move is also smart for business. Sean and I always mull over business decisions before putting them into action. Hard and heavy. This decision wasn’t made because we’re friends or on a whim. I believe in you and what you have to offer. And that’s why I’m doing this.”
My breath comes easier. “Thank you. Didn’t know I needed to hear that.”
“You’re welcome.” She drops my hand, then shifts to lie back on her lounger. “How do you think he’ll take it?”
She doesn’t have to say Micah’s name for me to know who she’s talking about. “Wish I knew. Things have changed between us. But I don’t know him well enough to answer.”
“Well, don’t let it worry you. He’s a grown man. If he can’t handle it, that’s his problem. Not yours.”
Every rational part of me knows Ani is right. That if Micah gets upset with tonight’s announcement, it is on him. But part of me still feels as if I am betraying him. Betraying the friendship—or whatever the hell -ship—we formed. Things between us get better with each passing day. I don’t want all that to go down the shitter.
I only hope he takes the news with a managerial mindset and does not let it bruise his ego.
* * *
