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“Just talk to him. If it’s just sex, great. Then have fun. But if you both want more, then you should go for it and not let any of the bullshit hold you back. No one else’s opinion matters. Except mine. And I fully support all of this relationship!” Selena beams at me like a proud dance mom. This whole conversation is mortifying.
“You swear you won’t tell Jacks?”
“I promise I won’t tell him. But if he figures it out, I can’t lie to him. We don’t lie to each other. Is that good enough?”
“That’s perfect. There’s no way he’s figuring this out on his own.”
Selena grins. “I know. It’s a good thing he’s so pretty.”
“We should probably get back,” I tell her, looking at the time on my phone.
“Fine. But is that misting hose I saw hooked up yet? Because if the testosterone hasn’t aired out, I will hose them all down.”
“Yes. And you’d have my full support in that, I promise.” Glancing up at the counter, I don’t see our order. “Is the food ready? Do you think they just forgot to bring it out?”
“I told them to hold it for forty minutes, so we’d have lots of time to talk. Should be ready right about now.” When Selena turns to look at the counter, drinks and food magically appear.
It’s almost more than the two of us can carry, but with the help of some canvas tote bags Selena swipes from the merchandise display, we manage.
“These tote bags are really nice. Where do you get them from?”
“I can’t remember the name, but I’ll email it to you. Oh, and I was so busy talking to you about you-know-who that I forgot to mention I had an idea for a collab we could do for your shop.”
“Really?”
“Unless you don’t want to? But I was thinking like cookie dough lotion or shower scrub. Or cupcake. Birthday cake? And we create a ton of coffee grounds every day. You could use them in your products or even use them to help fertilize all your plants? I should have thought of that before now. What about a brownie body wash?”
“I think that would smell amazing, but it might look like you’re rubbing poop all over yourself. I love this idea though. You really want to do this?”
“Of course, why wouldn't I?”
“Because you already have two successful businesses, and I have an old thrift store full of trash?”
Selena grins. “You have an old thrift store full of trash now. But the trash will be gone today. There are more pickup trucks and hands than you can count, ready and willing to haul this junk away. The place needs a fresh coat of paint, and then it’s going to be amazing. This is what women are supposed to do. Give other women a hand up. We’re not in competition. We’re better when all of us succeed. And it’s okay to ask for help. People who love you want to help you.” Selena manages a little bow, precarious with all the drinks and food she’s carrying. “And thank you for coming to my TedTalk!”
“If I wouldn’t crush the croissants and spill the coffees, I would hug you right now!” I promise her seriously. “Jameson’s building me some shelves for the shop.”
“Building shelves? Is that what they’re calling it now?”
“Real shelves. Made of wood. Hardwood.” I shake my head, laughing. “I’m not making this better, am I?”
“Not even a little bit. But I’m available any time you want to talk about Jameson’s hard wood.”
“He’s going to be your brother!”
“In law! It’s fine.” Selena walks the last few steps to my shop, and tugs the slightly open door all the way open with the toe of her ballerina flat. “You just let me know if you want to hear about Jackson’s hard wood.”
“I’d rather vomit nails than talk about Jacks’ dick. In my world, he doesn’t even have one. Like a pretty little Ken doll.”
“Thanks as always, Lil. You’re great for my ego,” Jacks says with a grin.
I risk a glance over at Jameson. He has a big smile on his face. When his eyes catch mine, I’m pretty sure he’s happy to hear all about how disgusted I am at the thought of his brother’s dick.
“Let me get that for you, baby,” Jacks says to Selena as he rushes forward to take the trays of coffees she’s carrying from her. “You should have called me to come and get all this stuff.”
Because heaven forbid a woman actually carry anything for more than five seconds. Like Selena’s not capable of carrying a couple of trays of iced coffee ten more feet? Actually, it reminds me of something—when Jameson wouldn’t let me carry my paint back to the shop.
I’m standing in the doorway remembering, when warm hands brush against mine and steal the bags of food from my hands and then the one over my shoulder.
