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  “Not everyone needs you to save them.” She rolls her eyes in annoyance. “It’s time for you to quit only focusing on work and open your heart back up. There is room in your life for both.”

  “So … you’re telling me to sleep with her?”

  Her eyes narrow. “No. That isn’t what I’m saying, and you know it. I’m saying that you need to stop focusing so much on what other people need and start focusing on yourself. That girl is the first girl you’ve even blinked at in almost a year.”

  “Listen, she needed a job, so I gave her one. I’m not trying to find a damn relationship. Besides, only one person actually needs me right now.”

  Her frustration with me grows to an ultimate level. “I saw the way you were looking at her while you went over things I’ve been handling for years. You never would have given up your precious building time had the other assistant been here today. I stood back and watched while the two of you were so consumed with one another that neither of you noticed anyone else had come into the room. Be in denial all you want, but don’t try to make me look like I’m the crazy one here. You and that girl could probably end up together if you would just let down your stupid, thick walls.”

  My best friend has clearly lost her mind. If I were honest with myself though, I’d admit that I hadn’t noticed her come in and that I might actually agree with her. It’s a good thing I’m not being honest with myself at the moment.

  “I need to get to the job site. Are you going to be good to help her for the rest of the day?” I attempt to shrug off my annoyance but fail miserably. It seeps out in my every word.

  “Yeah, Brazen, I’m good. I’d be even better if you pulled your head out of your ass. Work on that.”

  I leave Sunday in the kitchen and ditch the office altogether without a word to Noah. Her head lifts as I fly by, but I need to put some distance between me and what Sunday just said.

  I slam my truck door harder than necessary. I power down the music in frustration. It might not be professional, but in the silence of my vehicle, wanting to learn everything I can about my new assistant is what consumes my thoughts. The way she hummed while I went over instructions and how cute it was that she clicked her pen when she was deep in thought.

  This working relationship is going to be much more difficult than I thought, which is something I already knew. It just took me until now to admit it to myself.

  Noah

  Work was interesting, to say the least.

  Brazen was kind and patient with me, but when we noticed Sunday, everything shifted. Even though I couldn’t make out the words, I could hear her elevated voice after they went in the room. When Brazen left, he couldn’t get away fast enough, and after he was gone, I couldn’t get a read on Sunday. She was tough but not unkind, and she seemed to study me intently.

  Was she pissed Brazen had hired me without consulting her, or was it something more? Did those two have a relationship outside of work that she felt I was intruding on? I guess I’ll find out soon enough.

  The bizarre situation can’t upset me. Nothing can.

  Anything is better than being at Golden Heights.

  I can do this job. I know I can, and I’m not going to give them a reason to let me go. I’ll do whatever I need to in order to prove my worth and show them that it wasn’t a mistake to take a chance on me.

  I’m almost home when my feet come to a slow stop. I tilt my head, considering, and decide that fate is giving me a pat on the shoulder, as if to say, You made the right choice.

  Not two blocks away from my house is the Lake Olive Arts Center.

  When I was eight, a guest teacher came to my school. In my low-income area, we didn’t have many classes outside of the core academics, but every once in a while, someone would come to teach us something new. From the second the cheap, vibrant blue water paint smeared across my canvas, I knew I had found my peace.

  Art is an escape that transports me to a world I understand.

  I push the door open, and that same euphoria from ten years ago manifests deep within. Color. So much of it, and it’s all over. Walking into the center feels comparable to seeing Brazen without a shirt on. My pupils dilate, and my eyes widen, as if they are trying to take in everything all at once. A warm sensation runs through my body, and my enthusiasm skyrockets.

  Charcoal drawings. Oil paintings. Magnificent sculptures. Almost every artistic medium is displayed throughout this front room. These are the moments I cherish, brief blips of time where everything I once dreamed about becomes a reality.

  “Can I help you?”

  I’m so in awe that I didn’t notice that a man had appeared behind the counter, and I’m pretty sure I still look awestruck when I turn my attention to him.

  “Do you have classes here?” I will not bounce up and down in front of a stranger.

  He comes from behind the counter and heads in my direction. His dreads fall behind his back as he moves. My eyes travel down his paint-stained clothes, and I wish I had brought something a little less work appropriate that I could change into and dirty.

  “We have just about anything you can think of.” He hands me a brochure, and I glance at his name tag. Aaron. “What are you interested in?”

  “What am I not?”

  We share a smile, and then Aaron proceeds to sign me up for as many classes as I can. Drawing, painting, sculpting … I hit them all, including a couple of special classes from my Orbit List.

  I’m still so giddy about the classes that I hardly care that, by the time I get home, one of my heels is blistered from walking so far. Though I do make a mental note to remember my sneakers tomorrow.

  The house is loud when I walk in. Someone is blasting music and The Weeknd’s soulful voice cuts over the whirl of the vacuum. Benson is lost to his surroundings as he dances through the living room, pushing the vacuum in haphazard lines over the carpet. A grin widens over my face. Almost losing my balance, I jump onto the couch and stand proudly, passionately belting out every lyric with emphasis to “Lust for Life.”

  Of course, he’s spooked by my surprise appearance at first but then calms himself, except for a small tic. Benson gives me eye contact for the first time, and hope rises inside me. Slowly, he resumes his dance while returning to his chore and belts out the female parts of the song. Without words of conversation to one another, we bond. Lana Del Rey and The Weeknd bring us together.

  When the song is over, I plop down on my butt to catch my breath. Benson follows.

  “The pair of you look like idiots.” Madison’s words are playful as she laughs from her spot in the doorway.

  “Noah likes Lana Del Rey,” Benson tells Madison, as if it’s the world’s greatest fact.

  “That’s awesome, Benny.” She plops down on the couch between us. “See? I told you she wasn’t an undercover government agent.”

  “I would look great in a regal-looking suit. Maybe I shouldn’t rule that option out for my future.” I offer up a cheeky smile.

  I’m beginning to see Benson in full picture, and he might be more than just a little quirky, but that’s okay with me. I care about a person’s heart and not much else.

  The tic in his jaw fires off again, and he turns to Madison. “Maddy, I’ve told you that you can never be too careful. You’ve opened our home to all kinds of danger. Just because Noah seems to be working out okay, it doesn’t mean things couldn’t have ended up very differently. We could have ended up with someone who would sneak radioactive poison into our shampoo when we weren’t looking.” Benson works himself up and begins to shake.

  “We’ve been over this! Noah is as sweet and innocent as they come. Look at her!” She gestures my way, and then they both turn to look at me.

  I shrug, not really knowing what else to do.

  “We’re perfectly safe. Noah probably couldn’t even hurt a spider!”

  I’m watching their argument like a ping-pong game, back and forth from Madison to Benson as they keeping hitting the ball over the net to the
other, until Benson directs his attention back at me.

  “Is she telling the truth, or do you have plans to plot against us? There are a lot of people that are up to no good. Are you one of them?”

  I’d have sworn the question came from a small child if I hadn’t seen Benson ask me himself.

  I really want to tell him that, if I were plotting, I wouldn’t tell him the truth, but it’s clear that would only send him into a panic attack. Plus, he sounds so genuinely scared that I can’t bring myself to mess with him on this.

  “I swear on Lana Del Rey that I’d never poison you, I’m not a government spy, and I’m not plotting anything,” I pledge, holding my hand up like I’m swearing in.

  “You can’t lie on a promise to Lana,” he reasons.

  “I know.” I’m not going to argue with that argument. No way.

  “I was really scared about getting another roommate,” he confesses as he looks over his shoulder.

  “Don’t let anyone scare you, Benson, especially me. I’m harmless, I swear.”

  “Do you want to sing again?” He’s already moving to the stereo, dropping our eccentric conversation.

  “Absolutely!” I join him, helping out with the chores while rocking out. “Madison, you, too! Come on!”

  Brazen gave me a job. The art center fell into my lap. I won over Benson. I’d say today has shaped up to be a pretty great day.

  Brazen

  After a deep rumbling of thunder, a crack of lightning screams from the sky.

  It’s been raining for about twelve hours. Tourists know about the sun and the beach, but do they know about the kinds of storms we get? Every street looks like a canal. I swear I saw something swimming alongside my truck as I drove to work. Normally, rain would piss me off since I have to put construction on hold until it stops, but today, I don’t really mind it.

  Noah enters the office in a pink raincoat with matching galoshes.

  “You’re prepared for rain.” I don’t like the way her boots hide her calves.

  “I’m from a rainy city. I was born prepared for rain, but that lightning, it’s on another level. Is that normal?”

  She shivers under the air conditioner, and I move to turn it up, adjusting it for her.

  “Yeah, for this time of year, it is.”

  I’m at a loss for anything else to say. We’ve discussed the weather. Now, what other forms of polite chitchat are there? I felt so at ease with Noah before Sunday got me riled up. Speaking of my meddlesome friend, she walks in the door next, and I’m not sure whether I’m saved or in a worse position.

  “Well, hello, you two!” Sunday closes her umbrella and fluffs her hair, which somehow doesn’t have a strand out of place despite the downpour.

  Definitely not saved. I recognize that tone. Sunday has mischief on her mind.

  “Morning, Sunday,” Noah says.

  I stay quiet, waiting for the other pointed heel to drop.

  “Brazen, how did you sleep? Are you nice and rested for a full day of being stuck inside? That rain is really coming down, isn’t it?”

  “I slept fine, Sunday.” The annoyance in my voice is evident.

  Sunday sits at her desk and shoots me a shit-eating grin behind Noah’s back. One that tells me this day is going to be much longer than I anticipated.

  “So, Noah, tell us about yourself. I’ve gotten to learn so little about you since I missed your impromptu interview. Where did you meet Brazen?”

  Noah shifts in her chair, giving both Sunday and me a peripheral view of her face.

  “I just moved here and into the place across from your house on Oak Drive.”

  “Wait! You’re Maddy’s new roommate?” Sunday leans forward, propping her elbows on her desk and smiling.

  “Yeah, do you know her?” There is so much warmth in every conversation Noah holds, even this casual one.

  “You could say that.”

  “Madison and Sunday are friends,” I interpret for her vagueness.

  “Oh! That’s awesome. I think I got really lucky with my living situation. Madison has been great.”

  “So, is that where Brazen met you? He didn’t exactly tell me all the details.”

  “Um, yeah. I was outside, and we sort of ran into each other.” Noah squirms in her seat.

  Ran into each other? Sure, we’ll go with that.

  “Sunday, let Noah work.” I come off too hard, as if I’m upset Noah isn’t on task, which isn’t the case. Sunday knows that, but Noah doesn’t. A tinge of worry slices through me when I think about her taking my statement the wrong way. I shouldn’t care, but I do.

  “Don’t be surly, Brazen. I didn’t get to know Noah before you hired her. We’ve been without an assistant since we started this business. Surely, we can survive if she slacks off a little while her bosses get to know her. Besides, rainy days are bad for productivity.” Sunday gives me another smile, daring me to refute her and knowing damn well I won’t. Then, she turns back to Noah. “Did you leave anyone home? A boyfriend maybe?”

  I’ve had enough. Casually, I get up from my desk and head for the kitchen. I don’t want to be out here for wherever Sunday takes this conversation, and there is seriously no telling with her. But my steps are just slightly sluggish as I wait to hear Noah’s answer.

  “Nope, no boyfriend,” Noah tells Sunday just as the door closes behind me.

  Sunday is a pain in my ass. The black coffee I pour myself won’t fix that. I sit at the little table that wobbles. I lean on it and thumb through my phone.

  Facebook: full of shit I don’t care about.

  Email: full of people that need stuff from me and a plethora of spam messages.

  I have a text from a supplier. I’ll get to that later.

  I don’t care about any of it.

  Noah isn’t even in the room, but somehow, I can still smell her cake-batter scent. The lingering smell both elevates and worsens my mood. It’s the strangest thing. I can’t get enough of the fragrance wrapped around me, but at the same time, the notion that I crave it startles me. I need simplicity in my life—work, Sunday, sleep, and a few beers here and there. It’s been working for me, and the thought of disrupting that and tilting my world with anything more isn’t what I want. Women take work, relationships need nurturing, and all of that is complicated. I don’t want complicated.

  I can’t.

  I want her, but I can’t.

  I’m her boss, and that rules out anything casual between us.

  With Noah, it would be all or nothing.

  At this point, I can only choose nothing.

  “Are you really going to brood in here all day?” Sunday makes a dramatic entrance into my hiding spot.

  “Are you really going to keep needling this Noah thing?” I counter.

  “Are you really going to deny the fact the we both know that girl is perfect for you?”

  “Am I attracted to her? Yes. I’m not going to lie to you because you know me, so it would be pointless. Perfect? Sunday, I just met her. Neither of us knows anything about her. You are jumping way ahead of yourself.”

  “I might be on fast-forward, but I want you to be happy. Maybe overdrive is what you need. Don’t lose the opportunity with her before someone else comes and scoops her up while your head is up your ass.”

  In her heels, Sunday is almost nose-to-nose with me, and her glare holds me stiff.

  “Do you really need me to spell it out for you? You’re my priority, Sunday. There isn’t room for anything else while we’re dealing with everything going on!”

  I throw my hands up in the air, and Sunday rocks back on her feet.

  It isn’t often that Sunday gets quiet. She always has something to say.

  Right now, her eyes drift down, and she rubs at her arm with nothing to say.

  Maybe I could have phrased it better. Maybe Sunday doesn’t want to hear that my life is on hold until she’s safe, but if she isn’t going to let this go, then she needs to understand why. If I hurt her feelings,
then so be it. Keeping her safe is even more important than using kid gloves with her.

  “You can’t put your life on hold because of me, Brazen. It isn’t fair to either of us, and it isn’t good for our friendship. I never asked you to make these sacrifices. I don’t want you to.”

  The thunder outside roars and plays as a soundtrack to our heavy conversation.

  This seems to be a recurring topic for Sunday and me.

  Her estranged husband rules our lives.

  “Honestly, Sunday, it doesn’t really matter what you want. My choices aren’t sacrifices. They’re a necessity and ones I won’t change my mind about. If we don’t fix this, Matt is going to do something to you that you can’t come back from.”

  “I’m handling it. I’ve told you that.” Her forehead crinkles, and her lip turns up.

  “You’ve been saying that for months, but I still don’t know what it means. Spell it out for me, Sun. How are you handling it?” Give. Me. Something.

  We continue on our typical circle, going around and around without much progress.

  “I can’t, not right now.” She steps forward, closing the distance between us. “Promise me something? Promise me one thing, and I’ll get off your case about your persistence to protect me.”

  “What is it?”

  Sunday and I have been fighting over Matt and her safety for years. I know she doesn’t want me to step in, but I’d do just about anything to actually have this situation handled.

  “Give Noah a chance. Open up to her. I’m not crazy. I see something between you two. Don’t shut that out. We’ll figure out the rest later. Promise me?”

  “Give her a chance for what, Sunday? I’m her boss! Do you want us to go on dates to the copier? She’s here. I brought her here. Remember? I will inevitably be spending time with her.”

  Sunday is asking me for something that I’ve already deemed a horrible idea. She and I are fighting over nothing, over a girl who works for us, over a girl who might not have any interest in me. Who am I kidding? The way Noah looks at me with stars in her eyes test every ounce of my control.