Friend-Zoned (5 page)

Read Friend-Zoned Online

Authors: Belle Aurora

Tags: #Romance, #Love, #Friendship, #friends, #adult, #Humor, #funny, #Contemporary, #Humour, #Series, #friends to lovers, #friendzoned

BOOK: Friend-Zoned
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Chapter Four
I was just in the
neighborhood

I wake up with a
start.
Sweat pours down my face, my stomach knots, and my chest expands
with every heavy breath.
Sitting up, I place my back against the headboard of my awesome
sleigh bed.
I haven’t woken like this in at least three months. I used to wake
like this every night, sometimes multiple times.
It’s still dark out. I squint over at the digital alarm clock on my
bedside table. 4:57 am.
Fan-freakin-tastic.
I don’t
have to start getting ready for work for an hour and a half but I’m
up now.
After losing my daughter and Mom, I had trouble sleeping for a long
time. I kept hearing Mia cry in the middle of the night and would
find myself in her very empty bedroom
sobbing.
I really need you right now,
Mom.
The thing I miss most about my
Mom is her hugs. Coming from a Croatian background, I was raised
very affectionate. I would never leave the house without giving
both my parents a kiss on the cheek.
I could be having the worst day ever, but a warm, comforting hug
from Mom would make everything seem okay. Every time I was in a bad
mood she would ask, “What’s the matter, Dušo?” and always made sure
I would vent to her about whatever was bothering me. And vent I
did.
Baking is my release. I love to bake; my specialty is
cupcakes.
I know my cupcakes are good. Actually, good is an understatement.
My cupcakes are the
bomb
.
You’re up now. Get your butt out of bed. Let’s get
baking.
I reach over and fling my
covers back.
Bang Bump Meow
Oops
.
I apologize to my sweetheart. “Sorry Bear. Come here, honey.” He
stretches and walks over me. I pick him up and scratch him all
over. When I reach under his chin he purrs loudly and drools. I
chastise him softly, “Ewww Bear, control yourself.”
When Mia was a year old she spoke her first word which was cat. As
a reward for my super smart daughter, I got her Bear. I got him
from a shelter, he was really fat, but after months of diet cat
food he was back in shape.
Bear is a super sweet and very affectionate (my kind of cat). He
has a white body with three big black blotches on his back, a
completely black tail and looks like he’s wearing a black Zorro
mask.
I look down at my feline friend and say, “C’mon honey, let’s get
you some breakfast.”
Bear walks beside me as I exit my room and make my way to the
bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face.
I reach the kitchen, cover my mouth, and yawn.
Bear is already on the kitchen counter doing something which can
only be described as the
Give Me
Food
dance. He struts back and forth,
purring loudly, bumping his head on random things. Every now and
then he looks back at me in a way that says
the dance is working, right?
I reach under the counter for one of his many bowls, put some wet
food in it, and place it on the counter.
He purrs while he eats. I scratch his head and say in a cutesy
voice, “A fancy feast for my fancy beast.” I love Bear, he is the
ideal cat. I tell him, “You have five minutes to eat, buddy. I’ve
got to get baking.”
Bear finishes his meal and jumps off the counter. I wipe down the
counter with disinfectant spray and go about getting my ingredients
organized.
I place them all on the counter, whip up a chocolate mud batter,
and divide it evenly between the patty pans.
I pop them into the oven to bake and make my way to the bathroom to
shower.
I sing ‘Working 9 to 5’ in the shower, loudly. When I’m done, I
step into the hall and the delicious smell of chocolate mud cake
attacks my nostrils. My mouth waters and I know one of those babies
has my name on it for breakfast.
As I walk into the kitchen, the oven bell
dings.
Perfect
timing.
I take them out of the oven,
cover them with a tea towel and put them on the counter to
cool.
After, I heat cream on the stove top, not too hot. I pour the warm
cream over some semi-sweet chocolate and slowly stir. I put it
aside and wait for it to cool.
Yum!
My stomach rumbles and I
pat it.
Soon, my
pretty.
I go back into my room to
change for work. I decide on a linen pants and blouse combo. Add
some heeled sandals and
voila
!
I scan my bathroom counter for my small bounty of makeup. I don’t
really wear a lot of makeup. On the rare occasion I go out with the
girls, I’ll apply it a bit darker. I never wear lipstick, only
clear or lightly colored gloss. I like the natural color of my
lips.
Looking at my limited selection, I decide on mascara and pale pink
lip gloss.
A glance at my watch tells me I can start icing the cupcakes so I
make my way over to the kitchen counter.
There is something about icing cakes that is almost therapeutic.
Using a piping bag, I carefully ice all 12 of them in a swirly
snail pattern.
I’m so hungry at this point I take the wrapper off one of the cakes
and shove the whole thing in my mouth.
Chewing loudly, I hear the doorbell ring.
What on earth?
I’m still
chewing when I answer the door. There stand two men in blue
overalls.
Oh, Crudsickles! I forgot
about the moving truck!
One of the
men speaks, “Good morning, ma’am. I believe you’re expecting a
truck of furniture.”
I nod but am still chewing. I hold up my hand with my index finger
pointed up. The universal signal for
one
minute, please.
When I’m finally able
to speak I smile big at them both, “Yes! I’m so sorry.” Checking my
watch I say, “I actually forgot and have to be at work soon.”
The other man looks at my mouth, clears his throat and speaks up,
“I’m sorry ma’am but someone needs to be here for us to
unload.”
Darn
it!
My brain goes
Ping!
I get an idea. I walk past the movers to the apartment next door
and knock quietly.
The door opens and I’m greeted with a large smile, “My, oh, my, is
that you Tina?”
Smiling back at her, I say, “Hi Molly! I need a really huge
favor.”
Molly looks down at my mouth. Her lips twitch as she tells me,
“Girl, you got chocolate all up in yo’ teeth!”
My eyes widen, I can feel the warm blush rise on my cheeks.
Molly is a really cool neighbor. She is in her fifties, African
American and small but full of fire. Every time I see her I’m
mesmerized by her outfits. They’re always traditional African
garments and wraps with fantastic patterns and are usually beaded.
Her husband died ten years ago and they never had children so she
decided to downsize by selling her house and buying an apartment
instead. When I met Molly, I felt like I had won the neighbor
lottery.
Molly was wary of me at first. Until I invited to her eat dinner
with me one night and she tried my cupcakes. It’s safe to say that
Molly and I are good friends now.
Embarrassment seeps through my pores. I squeak, “Can I use your
mirror?”
She places a hand on her hip and taps her toes. She asks, “You
holdin’ out on me, baby girl?”
Um,
what?
I whisper, “Um, what?” My face
must show my confusion because she keeps talking.
She sternly asks, “You eatin’ those cupcakes behind my
back?”
Oh!
I feel a bubble of laughter rise in throat. I chuckle and
say, “If you do me this favor, I’ll save you a couple.”
She smiles and responds, “Deal. You know where the mirror is,
sugar.”
I quickly fix myself then explain to Molly about the movers.
Luckily, she didn’t have plans for the morning. Molly has one of my
spare keys; she normally feeds and watches Bear for me when I’m out
of town hunting new suppliers for Safira.
I pack six of the cupcakes into a container, give Molly a big hug
and make my way to my car.
I love my car. It’s a convertible.
A 1975 VW Yellow Super Beetle. The girls call it my Dung
Beetle.
It’s slightly rusted and the leather top has holes in it so when it
rains I have to cover it with a tarp.
It has character. It’s my baby.
I approach the driver’s side door and jiggle the handle. I depress
the button.
Nothing happens.
I jiggle harder. Try the button again.
Still nothing.
I jiggle hard and knee the door. I hear it.
Click
.
Bingo!
I open the door, sit
down and place my cupcakes on the passenger side floor. I feel a
headache coming on.
Mental note: take
some aspirin.
I put the key in the
ignition and turn. Nothing happens.
My forehead falls forward between my hands onto the steering wheel
with a thump.
Le
Sigh
.
***

So many
emails.
I need to hire a secretary or
assistant to help me out. The White Rabbit has gotten so popular;
people want to hire it during the week for birthdays and special
occasions. And I’m all for that.
My sister Maria comes to help out on occasion. She works part time
as a receptionist so she’s great help when we need her and she
knows what she’s doing. She can work all the gadgets and is pretty
technology savvy. I’m thinking of asking her to become our
full-time secretary. If work keeps coming in the way it is, we’ll
need it.
Ding!
A window pops up on my
computer. It’s an instant messenger program I’ve never used. I
signed up for it when I got the computer, it automatically logs in
when the computer turns on but I haven’t added any friends.
[email protected] has made a friend
request”
Her name’s Valentina? That’s
kinda nice.
I accept the friend
request and immediately a message comes through.
TheTomicBomb: Hey Friend!
I can’t help but chuckle at her messenger name.
Nik123: Hi. How are you?
TheTomicBomb: Great thanks. How r u?
Nik123: Busy. But Good.
TheTomicBomb: That’s good. Whatever u told ur “wife” seemed 2 work.
I haven’t seen her since.
Damn right. I cut Sissy loose. She was devastated and I don’t give
a shit. She’s spoiled and used to getting what she wants. She has
to learn she can’t pull that kinda shit and get away with it.
Nik123: I’m glad. If she gets the balls to come see you again, let
me know and I’ll fix her up.
TheTomicBomb: Eeek, that sounds a bit scary! I wouldn’t have the
“balls” 2 go against u :)
Nik123: That’s because you’re sweet. It’s not in your nature.
TheTomicBomb: Sweet?! I’m bad
ass
!!! One time I went 2 a museum
and didn’t even give the voluntary coin donation!
I burst into laughter. This girl is a total goof. I like
that.
Nik123: Oh hell, that
is
badass
TheTomicBomb: R u free 4lunch 2moro?!
I take a quick look at my schedule.
Nik123: Sorry Tina, tomorrow isn’t good. I’m meeting a potential
sponsor. How about the day after?
TheTomicBomb: Great. I’ll book u in. What kind of sponsor?
Nik123: I meet with companies who want to use The White Rabbit’s
name. They give me money to spend on the club. I put their names on
posters and events and add links to their websites from ours.
TheTomicBomb: Wow! But I thought u were doing really well, do u
need their money??!
Nik123: I like spending other people’s money rather than my own.
That way I get more profit.
TheTomicBomb: *Thinking face* this is true. How big is the
sponsor?
Nik123: Pretty damn big. It’ll mean big money for us.
TheTomicBomb: Cool! I hope u get it. I have 2 go, I’ll see u4 lunch
the day after 2moro :)
Nik123: Great. Just warning you, I’m a big sushi fan
TheTomicBomb: Me 2! Sounds like a plan :p
TheTomicBomb logged off.
I don’t know what just happened but I’m smiling like an
idiot.
Should’ve cut her
loose.
***

Last night was spent
packing away most of Nat’s things in the second bedroom.
I’m super psyched!
Next week she’ll be here and I’ll be living and working with my
bestest friend in the whole wide world!
I messaged her to tell her how her room was coming along.
Me: Hey hon, your room is almost sorted. You’re almost here!
Yay!
Nat: Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious! Totally awesome! I went to
your dad’s and got his spare key.
Me: Cool. How is he?
Nat: You know your pops, always working on something. He made a new
coffee table last week!
This is good news. My dad is a carpenter and fascinated with
anything wooden. Most of my childhood memories of him include him
making something out of wood. When Mom died, he stopped tinkering
and became a bit of a recluse. Unfortunately, I wasn’t much of a
help to him because I was mourning the loss of my sweet Mia. We
comforted each other as best we could but living in Cali became too
hard for me, so I moved to New York. I think it took me moving to
break him out of his spell. We call each other a few times a week
to chat and Nat goes over on occasion to check up on him.
Me: Awesome. How’d it look?
Nat: You tell me. It was in the moving truck!
Oh, wow!
Me: I thought it was yours! I put it in your room!
Nat: Nope, it’s yours babe. You have a new coffee table! I gotta
jet, see you soon. Love you x
Me: Love you more x
This is awesome because I never even had a coffee table to begin
with. I walk into Nat’s bedroom and take a closer look at my
gift.
It’s beautiful. It’s as high as my knee with a toffee brown finish.
The hand carved pattern around the sides is of roses, stems, and
leaves. The stems wind their way around; it’s so realistic he’s
even carved the thorns into it. I love it.
My eyes mist and my throat tightens with emotion because I know
this table is more than a gift. It’s a message from my dad. The
message is to not worry about him because he’s okay.
Relief settles me while love warms me.
I wipe at my eyes, clear my throat and pick up my cell to call my
father.
***

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