CLARISSA
A
ll in all, I couldn’t be prouder of my risk.
But what’s the point of joy in your achievements when you don’t have someone to share it
with?
Although Matthias and I haven’t formally announced a break up, it’s been weeks since the last of our public sightings and the tabloids are rife with theories about what has happened.
It’s a sunny summer day when James comes back after a weekend away. He’s excited because he came first place in a national bartender competition and is going on to compete in the international heats in a few months.
I could not be happier for him. He’s a drawcard for the bar, and it’s only fair that he’s recognized for his contribution.
“James, can you come here for a moment?” I call out to him one day.
“What’s up, boss?”
Over the months we’ve settled in a professional closeness, and when I need to take a few hours off, he’s always the one who steps up, somehow keeping an eye on the club even from the behind the bar. He’s training two others to take over so he can take a night off a week, and go off for his competitions without feeling guilty about leaving me in the lurch.
He comes to stand next to me outside the front of the club. I point to a newly painted addition to the club’s front window.
“James Spritely Winner of The Barley and Mint Bartender Competition.”
He yells in surprise and pulls me in for a side hug, and I don’t fight him off. It’s been a long time since I’ve hugged someone. It feels nice. It reminds me that my brain isn’t encased in a robotic body.
I’m human. And sometimes it’s okay that I need another human too.
Just not that human.
It’s not okay that I need that one.
“You’re okay here for a few hours?” I say, once he releases me. “I’m meeting someone at the coffee shop on Cornelia Street.”
He shoos me. “Get out of here. You’re blocking my sign.”
I laugh and walk away, turning only to wave him a goodbye over my shoulder.
Breath empties from my lungs.
Matthias.
I freeze, dragging in a breath, and then turn back to where James is still standing.
No Matthias. I must’ve imagined it.
Thinking about him for every moment of the day has me seeing him everywhere. On the other side of the bed when I open my eyes, sitting in my office at the end of the night if he needed to get some work done, standing at the Vietnamese cafe counter, laughing at me because I always order without peppers.
Everywhere.
His voice in my head, talking to me when I’m alone, encouraging me, talking problems out with me, reminding me to breathe when the anxiety hits.
And sometimes, just sometimes, I let myself remember how he told me that I was his only.
I wonder if his presence will ever fade from my brain. And I don’t know if I should wish that it will or won’t.
Halifax is waiting inside when I get to the cafe.
We’re about a month away from opening the club as a morning coffee spot. For now, we’ll only open from eight a. m. until twelve p. m. to see if there’s a demand, and then we will figure it out from there.
Halifax talks about coffee like James talks about ice and glasses. And it’s a privilege to listen to him.
“Sorry, I’m late,” I mumble as I hang my bag on the back of the chair and settle into my seat.
“All good. Try this one.” He pushes an espresso cup towards me. I lift it to my mouth, almost drunk from the fragrance. Thick, with hints of tobacco and caramel. I take a sip as he looks at me expectantly.
Wow,” I say, the coffee hitting me in the back of the throat in an explosion of flavor. “This one, definitely.”
“Great!” he grins. “That’s my favorite from the Australia trip.”
“I see why.”
He scribbles something down on the notepad on the table and I lean forward, reading as he writes. “You smell like coffee.” I giggle.
“Thanks,” he says with a warm smile. “You smell nice too, but not as nice because you don’t smell of coffee.”
“I smell better, brat!” I yell, reaching out to slap his hand. He grabs my hand and squeezes it, his laugh fading.
“Hey. I wanted to talk to you about something.”
Oh no. I was afraid of this. Over the last month, every time I’ve seen him, Halifax has acted more and more like he was interested in pursuing something a little more than friendship.
But I had hoped he’d see that I was in no mind to be wanting to be in any sort of romantic relationship. And probably wouldn’t be for a long time. He’d been there when I’d cried all over his shoulder about Matthias, telling him all about the fake engagement.
I’d been a little better in the last few days, and I guess he took that to mean that he should admit his feelings.
“Halifax. I don’t think you should say what you’re wanting to say.”
He sighs. “I need to.”
I sigh and lay my hand on top of his. “Okay, but I’m going to warn you I’m not ready for anything.”
His eyes take on a sad air, exactly the thing I was hoping to avoid. He blinks it back and decides against his better judgment to keep going. “Clarissa, I think you are so amazing. From that first day, I knew you were unlike any other women I’ve ever met in my life before. I was wondering if you would like to go on a date with me?”
I take a beat, trying to think of the kindest way to let him down when someone speaks for me.
“No, no, she wouldn’t.”
I jump about a foot in the air and land back in my chair from Matthias’s voice. Halifax looks about as confused I am.
We both crank our neck upward to see Matthais standing there at the table, his face a perfect storm, Baxter Blue eyes swirling with so much simmering fury I’m afraid Halifax might be smitten right here and leave nothing but a coffee smelling burn mark.
“Matthias!” Halifax and I both say at the same time. Halifax in surprise, me in anger. What is he even doing here?