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STEFAN
Angela Haddon has always been on my mind, but she has surprised me by coming into her own skin. Her confidence is amazing, and she didn’t used to have any. The top she’s wearing makes it easy to see directly down it, especially given my height. I try to resist, but give in. It’s crazy how much people can change. I remember her in high school, wanting so badly to be popular, but the seniors would knock her down a peg. A couple times I defended her when the guys would make fun of her, but they didn’t know her like I did. Not that I wanted them to.
There are times when Angela and I would hang out with Hendrix. Not intentionally, but I wouldn’t have anywhere to go, and the Haddon house was like my second home back then. We would sit on the couch and watch TV all night or until he got back from whatever date or party. She was my first kiss, and no, Hendrix knows nothing about it. I can’t count how many times I had to refrain myself from trying again as we got older. It’s interesting to see the beautiful woman she turned out to be, and how spunky she is. I love a girl with an attitude. Well, within reason.
I know she is off-limits, but there is nothing saying I can’t admire her. Her lips are full and a luscious pink. What wouldn’t I do to kiss her one more time? It’s quite clear she attracts men anywhere she goes, and she must be seeing someone. Why would anyone that looks like her be single? Unless it’s by choice. Hendrix would kill me if he caught me, but right now he’s too busy trying to be the center of attention to worry about what I’m doing. So, I take the opportunity to talk to her, find out what’s going on in her life, without being creepy.
“So, what are you up to now?” I ask her, taking the serving spoon and dishing some salad onto my plate. The thing is, I’m interested to see where she ended up. She was smart and always pictured her becoming a lawyer or doctor. That’s part of the reason everyone made fun of her in my graduating class. She always had her nose in a book, getting straight A’s. It came easier to her, it seems, but with her being in Grapevine still, I imagine she didn’t go a different route.
“Working at the fire station. Daddy needs somebody to carry on the family tradition.”
Now I understand. Underneath those jeans, she is most likely toned and muscular. Not in a body builder way, but in an athletic way. Her ass itself looks like a masterpiece. Why she would give up being a doctor or a lawyer to be a firefighter, I’ll never understand, but her want to please her father won. She still has time to do something else, but with her father breathing down her neck, it’ll never happen.
“How do you like it?” I ask.
She shrugs her shoulders. “Sick of seeing homes destroyed and families losing everything…”
I couldn’t be in that line of work. Seeing burned bodies and never knowing what you are walking to every time you leave on a call, my anxiety would give me a heart attack. I don’t know how she does it. It makes sense though, someone had to become a firefighter, it’s all Mr. Haddon ever talked about when we were younger.
I remember before graduation; their father would always question Hendrix about his future. The thing is, he never wanted to be a firefighter. And the more he pushed him, the more Hendrix would rebel. Mr. Haddon isn’t a bad father, but he didn’t want his kids to go out and live their dream, he wanted them to carry on his. That’s just not how it works. Doesn’t every parent know when you tell your kid they can’t do something, they find a way to do it anyway? Hendrix has always been the type to do the opposite of what his parents say, and I imagine he will always be like that.
“What about you, Leslie? What are you up to now? Firefighters, too?”
If anyone would have followed in her father’s footsteps, I imagine it would be Leslie, as she is the one that always had a close relationship with Mr. Haddon. She seems like the one that wants to please him the most.
“I’m a freelance editor now,” Leslie replies.
I finish chewing my food before responding. “So, you finally took the plunge huh? So, your dream of being at a big publisher, is that still the goal?”
Now more than ever, we have more people working from home, or doing side hustles that involve freelance. I’m proud of her for going after her dream. She has always been a book lover, and I still remember on her tenth birthday, when her mom asked what she wished for, it was to be an editor at a big publisher when she grew up.
“I think it’s just evolved. The publishing companies are going bankrupt, and authors save more money taking care of things themselves. Who wants to only get ten percent when they have the potential to get seventy?”
“It all comes back to money. Fifty to sixty percent is a big chunk of change if they are selling loads of books, but if the author can’t match that level of sales, aren’t they better off staying with the company?”
Honestly, it’s healthy to debate on topics, and I miss having conversations about things like this. When I’m in Dallas, all I do is work, and when I do have company, it’s just for sex. The women that we attract, well, they don’t have the wits it takes to even debate.
“It’s situational based. For some authors, it makes more sense to take control of that themselves, and others don’t want to mess with the marketing side. Most of my clients aren’t traditional, but I like it that way. They want to restrict what you can write about, and that’s not what an author wants to hear. They want to write something that they want and get it in front of readers. Traditional books these days, especially in the romance genre, they are all the same almost. It’s like they follow the same pattern and just change character names and backstories. I’ll stick with my self-published authors on my TBR.”
Everyone else is just eating away, and letting us go back and forth, except for the man next to her. We haven’t been introduced.
“I’m Stefan, by the way,” I say, reaching my hand across the table.
“Noah, and I am a writer, but don’t have anything published yet. I’m interested to see the dynamics from both sides someday.”
How ironic that an editor ended up with a writer? It’s like the perfect duo. Leslie has always been down to earth but very driven. She didn’t fuck around in school and knew that she would need to make her father happy, before she could pursue her own dream.
“Enough about that. Stefan and I are on the brink of bringing in an investor that could push us into the billionaire dollar category. We might be able to sell and walk away faster than we thought.” He holds up his beer.
Hendrix isn’t one that likes to be in the background, he’s an attention whore. I love him, he’s my best friend, but money has definitely gone to his head. He refuses to wait in line anywhere, and if someone doesn’t know him or recognize his name, he is appalled. A couple weeks ago, we went out for dinner, and he didn’t tip the waitress because she had no idea who he was. I didn’t tell him, but I went back and left a hundred-dollar bill for her to make up for the scene he caused.
“Alright, let’s not get ahead of ourselves and jinx it.”
Mr. Haddon is the first one to get up from the table, and everyone else follows suit. Dinner was delicious, but I’m ready for the Haddon tradition. Pictionary. I used to spend every Christmas Eve over here because my parents typically worked.
Mr. Haddon is very competitive. This is usually when you see a different side of him. He can be goofy and fun, but not very often.
“So, what do you say we do the old teams. Mom, Dad, and Hendrix, versus Angela, Stefan and I?” Leslie says.
Noah has opted out of playing the game and would rather be a spectator. He doesn’t know what he’s missing. I bet after a couple rounds; he will wish he would have agreed. Although, that would mean that someone else would have to step out.
We gather in our teams, and Leslie gives a pep talk to us, like we need it. It’s just a game, but I know she likes to beat her brother, so I go along with it.
Angela’s hand is on my shoulder as we are huddled up on the couch, and for a second, I forget Hendrix is right across from us. He has always told me his sisters are off limits. We aren’t teenagers anymore.
“Don’t get so handsy over there, sis.”
Hendrix likes to have control over everything. But maybe he needs to be put in his place. Not that I would ever risk our friendship to be with a woman, but maybe someday, someone will.
If Angela wasn’t my best friend’s sister, I would have asked her out a long time ago.
