Going Nowhere (7 page)

I pull up to the coffee shop; three doors down from Shenanigan’s and check my make up in the mirror. Looking good and I’m five minutes early, first impression in the bag. I cling to this confidence as I exit my car and walk up to the counter to order a caramel iced coffee. Scanning the seating area, I spot Emily easily.

Apparently, the Scott genes were strong because she looked exactly like her brother. She was pretty and petite with long black hair, same Scott green eyes. My head cocked to the side in surprise. She also looked really young like my age young. I knew that Jase was twenty-six so unless she had excellent plastic surgeon she had to be younger. I thought for sure she was older because of her kid, but I guess I shouldn’t make assumptions like that considering my own mother had Kayla when she was eighteen.

I sent her a little wave, signaling I would be there in a minute. She smiled and nodded. Guess she knew what I looked like since she wasn’t weirded out by a stranger making hand gestures at her. Grabbing my coffee I gave the barista a smile and headed over to her table.

“Hi! I’m Marisol.” I said, shaking her hand as I sat down across from her.

“Hey, I’m Emily.” She smiled sweetly. I don’t know why, but this girl made me want to hug her. She had a tired look about her whi
ch figures since she had a four and half year old. “So Jason tells me you need a job?”

“Yep and you need a nanny! By the way, I hope you know I’m not a weirdo. I was a little appalled at how Jason went about getting us together, but I promise I’ve worked with kids before. I worked at a day care for a couple of years. I’m CPR certified and all that-“

“Marisol-” She stopped me laughing lightly. “I trust Jason. He would never send a kidnapper to me. He likes you.”

“I don’t know how, I barely know him.” I mentally smack myself because now it sounded like I was talking her out of hiring me.

“Jason gets feelings about people and he’s usually dead on.” She takes a sip of her coffee, watching me carefully for my reaction at this news.

I nod, “So
the dad’s out of the picture?” Jason had mentioned this before, but I wanted to make sure there wasn’t going to be any issues I needed to be aware of.

“So out of it, it’s like he was never there.” She said bluntly, but smiled a little to lighten the mood.

“Forgive me, but you’re so young, I usually see older people looking for nannies. I’m sorry, I know that sounds judgmental-“

“Stop, it’s really ok-“She started, looking amused, but I would not shut up.

“No, it’s not, I am an annoyingly curious person paired with no filter. It’s a dangerous combination. I’ve gotten into plenty a scrape because of it.” I cringed. What is with my word vomit and the Scott siblings?

“Hon
estly? I got pregnant at seventeen and had Mikey a couple months after my eighteenth birthday and high school graduation. The father has never wanted to be a part of our lives and good riddance too him. Thank god for Jase, though. He came home, gave up everything to help me out with Mikey and it really allowed me to get my degree. Now, I have my own home. It’s small but it suits us. I work at an up and coming online magazine called Twenty-Something’s.”

“Seriously?! You work there? I love that magazine! You guys have the best music articles.”
I lean forward on the table almost tilting the whole thing over in excitement.

“Thank you.” She smiled
. It took me a second to comprehend what she was implying, then my mouth dropped open, and the hero worship started.

“Wait, thank you like ‘thank you on behalf of the entire magazine’ or ‘thank you I write that column’.” I asked excitedly, wanting my suspicions to be confirmed by her.

“Thank you I write that column.” She smiled.

“Shut the hell up! Girl, I worship you!” I’m practically bouncing in my chair.

I cannot believe I am sitting across from E.L. Scott. Holy crap this world is seriously small. Twenty-Something’s was like hipster paradise. They didn’t watch trends; they started them. E.L. Scott was a music master; she had an ear for bands. I would go on online and see her weekly column about a new band and then a couple months later they would be everywhere. She was like Oprah, but instead of making books bestsellers, she made bands famous.

“You seriously have the coolest job on the planet. Literally.”
I gushed.

“It’s pretty great.
I worked hard to graduate early and I worked at my university newspaper reviewing local bands. It also helps when you’re brother is underground famous.” She says, air-quoting around famous.

“No kidding?” I asked surprised.

“Yep, he’s a festival favorite.”

“Wow! I met the guys from the Boonies and they mentioned
that he went on tour with them-” Then it all clicked into place. Jesus. Like this guy needed any help getting under my skin. I was going into full-blown crush mode.

“And then he came home and helped me out.” She nodded, guessing my train of thought. “I love him, he’s the best person I know.”

“He’s pretty great.” I muttered, still lost in thought.

“Yeah, so the magazine wants me to start going to some shows to scout some bands.”

“Which is where I come in.”

“Correct. I’ll be gone maybe two to three nights a week sc
outing bands for my column. I hope that’s ok. I’ll need you full time those nights and then part time the rest of the week. And you’ll have weekends. It won’t be every week. I’ll be travelling probably every other week.”

“Like I said, best job in the whole world.” Still totally stuck on the information I just learned.

“I know; it’s just hard. I don’t want to leave my son, but its really good money and I want to be able to provide for him, you know?”

“No judgment here. I can tell you’re a great mom.” And I could, she had a light about her every time she mentioned her sons name.

“I’m trying. You won’t be by yourself completely. Jason already said that he would stay at my house for those nights so you won’t have to stay the whole night. Just until he can get there from work.”

“That’s not so bad.” I reasoned, taking a sip of my coffee.

“It’s only for a couple months during festival season, and then it’ll cool down enough that the travelling will be more sporadic. It’s practically unheard of to travel as lightly as I do, but they just hired another writer to help out my column since it’s taken off, so it’s working out well.” She said, but I detected some bitterness there.

“Is that weird? Someone else working on the column you created?” I asked interested.

To be honest I was having a hard time not being completely envious of this girl in front of me. Here she is, with every obstacle that can be thrown at her and she’s handling it beautifully. In fact she’s excelling and for the life of me I couldn’t figure out my inability to do the same.

I pull myself out of my thoughts and focus back on Emily. “Sorry. What were you saying?”

“Oh! I was just saying that I haven’t even met the guy yet so I can’t really hate him; they just hired him actually. Anyway, I have to pick up Mikey in about a half hour. Why don’t you take the rest of the day to think about it?”

“I will, thanks Emily.” I stood up with her and we made our way outside.

“If you’re interested, Marisol, come to dinner tonight with Jase and meet Mikey.” She said as she made her way over to a black Jeep.

“That sounds even better, I’ll see you tonight. It was really great meeting you Emily.”

“You too, Marisol!” With a wave, she hopped into her car and took off down the road. I rocked on my heels and checked my watch. I can’t believe forty-five minutes went by, it felt more like five minutes.

I made my way over to Shenanigan’s and noticed that they weren’t open for another two hours. Why the heck would he have me come after the interview if they were going to be closed? Pulling my phone I texted Jason.

Hey Bartender! I’m at your bar, why aren’t you tending?

In less than a minute he texted me back.

LOL! We’re closed to everyone but really special people. I’ll be right there to let you in.

I tucked my phone inside my back pocket and a second later the door swung open to
reveal Jase in his Shenanigan’s Henley and some black jeans, his ever-present Converse encasing his feet. He held the door as I walked by and like some stalker I inhaled his scent, wood cleaner and something spicy.

“I guess I’m special then huh?” I asked as I followed him up to a booth covered in paper and sat down.

“I find myself refraining from making a very middle school joke.” He grinned as he took the seat across from me. I plopped my feet up next to him on his seat and rolled my eyes.

“What’s all this?” I asked, gesturing to the paper that covered the table.

“Payroll, orders, other extremely responsible and important things that you couldn’t possibly understand.”

“Ha. You’re on a roll this morning. Where’s Mr. Shenanigan?”
I ask looking around for other people, but we were alone.

“Mr. Shenanigan?” He asked amused.

“The owner, dumbie.”

“The owner’s name is Jackson Tate, not Shenanigan. And he’s on vacation with his family for the week so I’m running this ship.”

“Impressive.” I said, nodding respectfully.

“You should be impressed. I’m very trustworthy and multi-talented. Anyways, since I didn’t get an S.O.S. text from you or Em, I’m guessing it went well?”

“Jason.” I folded my arms on the table and leaned forward with mock seriousness.

“Marisol.” He imitated.

“You have, quite possibly, the coolest sister in the world.” I smiled.

He leaned back into his seat and put his arms behind his head, causing them to flex. Stupid muscles. “I like her.”

“Dude, you have no idea. I am girl crushing so hard right now. You have major competition for the position of best friend. I like her so much better than you.” I grinned.

“I’m not worried. I’m pretty crush worthy myself.” He winked. Gah.

“Don’t be annoying, Bartender.” I warned, mostly because he was right.

“Finding me irresistible there, Crazy?” He smiled a sexy grin at me. I squirmed in my seat.

“Oh, I’m finding you something. Your sister wants us over for dinner tonight.”

“Cool. Want me to pick you up? I’ll be leaving here around five.”

“Sounds good.” I lean back into my seat and close my eyes, relaxing completely.

“So what are you up to for the rest of the day?”

“Well I’ll probably go to the store and get something to make, probably a dessert to bring to Emily’s tonight.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, I do. I was brought up to never go to someone’s house without bringing anything.”

“Well if I can make a request, I’m partial to carrot cake.” He grinned at me.

“Do any of y’all have any allergies?” I asked, mentally cataloguing the ingredients I’d have to pick up.

“Nope.”

“Ok then, I guess I am off to the store to get the ingredients to make you a carrot cake.”

“You’re making it from scratch? Not out of a box?” His eyes lit up.

“Of course.” I stood up from the table and grabbed my purse. Jason stood up to walk me out.

“You like to cook?”

“Yes, sir. Looks like you’re not the only impressive one around here.” I said cockily, swaggering a little.

“Oh my God, I’m salivating already. Fucking-A bring two. I want one for myself.” He said, smacking his lips and rubbing his flat stomach.

I turn towards him at the door. “Deal, but only because you probably got me a job.”

“Sweet.” He pulls me in for a quick hug and waits to close the door until I’m in my car and pulling out of my space. I wave and set off for the store, smiling to myself at
how nice this entire morning turned out.

The rest of my day was uneventful and while a week or so ago that would have driven me mad, I’m settling into a routine. I shrugged it on like a favorite coat and snuggled into it. I missed having a purpose, a reason to get out of bed.

I also missed money.

Though it wasn’t a permanent situation this would provide some security, financial and otherwise, while I figured some stuff out. When I got home from the grocery store I set out all the ingredients for later and sat down in front of my laptop and did something I hadn’t done in over the month that I had been home wallowing. I opened myself back up to the outside world.

I checked my email and was immediately filled with guilt and shame at the number of emails I had left unanswered for too long. These were my friends, people I explored the beginning of adulthood with in college. It took me over two hours to respond to everyone.

I didn’t go into great detail of what I was doing. Just left it at trying to figure some stuff out before I made my next move. It seemed I wasn’t the only one a little lost and while I knew that I wasn’t on my own little island of self-pity, it was both eye opening and comforting to know that some of my friends were going through the same things.

No one prepares you to be yourself.
There’s no course you can take for life.

My fingers twitched with the energy my thoughts were invoking. I clicked open a blank Wo
rd document and started writing. I dumped everything onto those pages and it lightened me. I had no idea how long I was at it, but I stopped when my fingers got stiff and my wrists began to hurt a little. Sitting back and I stared at my computer screen, exhausted yet satisfied. I saved the document under “Bitchfest” and checked my phone. Close to three hours had gone by, holy crap! I also had a text from Jase.

How are my cakes coming along?

I ate them.

You’re funny.

No, really, I ate them. I had to smell them the whole time, I couldn’t control myself, it was messy. I turned into a Cake Monster and devoured them in a fit of shame eating.

U
lie and what’s shame eating? NVM, I don’t want to know. You’ve got 2hrs, Betty Crocker. Get’s ta steppin’

Don’t talk like that.

Girl you’ trippin’

Bye!

Holla at ya later! :p

“Wh
at a dork.” I murmured, still smiling. I’ve never met a guy confortable enough in his masculinity to use emoticons. Checking the time, I saw that he was right; I only had two hours. Barely enough time to get the cakes made, cooled, and frosted. “Let’s do this!” I said, cracking my knuckles.

The doorbell rang while I was frosting. Cursing a blue streak I wiped the sweat of my face and ran to the door. Flinging it open I ushered Jason into my parents’ house.

“Come on! I need your help.” I began my speed walk back to the kitchen when I noticed him walking as slow as possible behind me. I glared at him over my shoulder. “I don’t have time for your sloth impression. Move it, Scott.”

I entered the kitchen this time not caring if he was behind me or not, I needed to finish the piping. Or what I liked to call piping, which was probably a huge stretch since it looked a little messy. Whatever
. I shrugged; it’s just going to be eaten anyways.

“Can I lick the bowl?” Ja
son asked from right behind me, I could feel his breath stir my hair.

My muscles locked in order to suppress a shiver at his proximity. I turned a little and looked up at him, scratching my nose uncomfortably when I realized he would only have to move maybe two or three inches down and his mouth would be on mine. My breath stalled as his body heat rushed over me.

“You can if you help me frost the other cake, but no licking the bowl until the cakes are done. Then you can have the left overs.” I said, narrowing my eyes at him.

He hadn’t moved an inch and his eyes were roaming over my face, his
eyes darkening with emotion.

“Can you move back a little? You’re crowding me.” I asked nervously, refusing to touch him right now when the air was so thick. I don’t know what I would do if I felt him under my hands right now. His chest expanded with a breath.

“Marisol, look at me for a sec.” He said quietly.

“I am.” I said to his chest.

“Uh, excuse me, I’m not a piece of meat. My eyes are up here, pal.” He said in a mock-offended voice, motioning with his hand. I jerked my head up to look into his eyes, completely embarrassed.

“What do you want, smart ass?” I gritted out, desperate for some space. Unfortunately, any movement would cause contact since I was pretty much backed up to the counter.

“You have something-” he leaned forward even closer to my face and lifted a hand; I jerked as his finger slid along the tip of my nose. I stared at his finger that now held frosting. “-here.” He finished, putting his nose-frosted finger into his mouth and sucking it, never looking from my face. There was no mistaking the suggestion in those green eyes now. They practically glowed with it. I blew out a breath, hating how it shuddered out of me unsteadily.

“Back up.” I said quietly, closing my eyes. Please, do not do this right now.

As if he heard my thoughts, the heat left me and he walked to the sink to wash his hands. Silently he picked up a knife and began frosting the other cake. We worked in quiet for the next ten minutes, finishing up the dessert.

“All done!” Jason called. I looked over from where I was putting aluminum foil around my cake and nodded at him, handing him the foil so he could wrap his up too.

“That one’s yours, here wrap it up.” I said, indicating the one he just finished.

“Why is this one mine? Because I frosted it?” He frowned as he looked down at it. The cake looked like it was iced with inches
of thick frosting. I laughed a little at how misshapen it looked now.

“Actually, yeah.” I smiled at his disgruntled expression.

“I happen to love frosting.” He responded archly, but he smiled so I knew he wasn’t truly offended.

“I see that. Come on, Cake Boss, we gotta go or we’ll be late.” I grabbed my purse, slung it over my shoulder and after a quick clean up we headed to his car with our cakes.

He opened the back door of his black truck and slid his cake onto the floor. His truck was huge and I honestly didn’t know how I was going to get into it without a ladder. Thank god I wore my outfit from this morning and not a dress or I’d have to change and then we would be really late.

“Uh, Bartender?” I called to him. He walked around to the passenger side and took the cake from my hands, putting it next to its ugly brother and opened my door. “How am I-oh shit!” I yelped as he pretty much threw me into the passenger seat, Jason cackling behind me as he slammed the door shut.

Ending up slumped over the armrest in the middle of the bench seat I grumbled, “Jesus, Jason, how about to warning before you sling me around like a sack of potatoes.” Exaggerating righting myself as he climbed into the drivers seat to make my point.

“Sorry!” He grinned at me as he started his truck.

“Are you compensating for something? This car is like a tank.” I asked, marveling at how high up we were.

“First of all, it’s not a car, it’s a manly ass truck and no I’m not compensating for anything. No complaints in that department.” He said, wiggling his eyebrows at me.

“Ha. Sounds like a dinosaur.” I say, listening as we drove out of my neighborhood.

“It’s a beast.” He said proudly, rubbing his dashboard. “Why? Don’t you like it?”

“I’ll take Charlene over Beast any day.”

“Who’s Charlene
?”

“My car. My completely non gas-guzzling car.” Smiling as I spoke. I loved my car.

“Charlene?” He laughed. “How in the hell did you come up with that name?”

“I
dunno. When I got her, she said her name was Charlene.” I shrugged.

“Oh
she told you, did she? You’re not really doing anything to deter from the crazy impression I have of you.” He glanced at me sideways.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You just petted your car in front of me so I’d say we’re even. Where’s your music? Time for some investigating.” He opened center console, pulling out an adapter and IPod, similar to mine and handed it over.

“Go for it, Crazy.”

Going to his recently played playlist, I started scrolling. Smiling a little when I saw a lot of the songs we listened to on the way to and from St. Augustine. I also saw that he had a lot of Folk and
Bluegrass, which I whole-heartedly approved of.

I clicked one of my favorite Delta Rae songs, “Morning Comes” and hummed along with them and ended up singing along after about a minute, the beat was so infectious. Jason looked over and smiled at me when I began to belt out the chorus.

He stayed quiet for the entire song, content to play the drums on his steering wheel while I took the lead. It was so easy to be with him when we were like this. Jason settled something inside me. I sang the last note and mock bowed when he clapped.

“You didn’t tell me you could sing!” He said.

“I can’t sing, not like you, but I like to.” I corrected. I wasn’t terrible, but singing was more for fun than anything else for me. “You’re the only one besides Charlene and Kayla to ever really hear me sing.”

“Well, you’re good.”

“I’ve been called the song bird of my generation.” Quoting
Step Brothers
to him.

“I’m serious, Crazy, that wasn’t terrible.” He laughed.

“Well, thanks, Mr. Scott. That’s a big compliment coming from
the
Jason Scott himself.” I batted my eyelashes making him laugh. Turning my attention back to the IPod, I continued to serenade him all the way to Emily’s house.