Page 100 of Apparently, I’m Torture

Once Shawn and I talked, and I had the guarantee that my job was safe, an idea hit me. Something I did while managing the merchandising for Kappa Delta’s fundraisers, and I called Tristan.

Years ago, whenever I made a set of merch, Tristan would keep some of the stock in his shop to help me raise money and awareness. But the most mutually beneficial arrangement came around when I designed a set of coffee cups for one of the charities. I’d ask him to keep them at his shop, and he’d sell them with the offer of discounted refills for the remainder of the month.

I extended the offer everywhere else we stocked the merch, and the boom of customers he’d gotten was incredible. Once people had Tristan’s life-altering coffee roast and a taste of his lovingly crafted home-made pastries, the number of regulars tripled and our hours extended.

So, I called and explained everything to Tristan, he agreed, and I got to work writing to the department board. The initial approved thirty thousand cups were here, being sold. But the remainder stayed at Tristy’s, where my old boss would sell the rest, making the same offer over the coming eight weeks. The profit from the sales would go directly to the fundraiser, but Tristan would keep the customers.

Simple, mutually beneficial, and it left the door open for future donations. Once the contract was agreed to, the wave of relief both Shawn and I felt was palpable.

And now, today was the day. Nothing could ruin this. Absolutely nothing.

Shawn was locked in a conversation with Tristan while Nikki kept the line moving. Mia bounced at my side after tearing herself away from the stage long enough to grab the performers a round of coffee.

“Bloody divas,” she growled in my ear as she picked up a takeout tray. “How’d I let you talk me into doing this again?”

I fluttered my lashes at her. “Because you love me?”

She rolled her big brown eyes. “You’re lucky I do. That front-man’s a real asshole.”

I lifted onto my toes and searched the stage, my glance eventually resting on a tattoo-covered, lithe-yet-muscled frame. With piercings and spiked hair, he wore the nineties grunge look as if he’d been pulled straight out of that decade.

I lifted a brow at Mia. “Would you say he’s a fit asshole?”

She scowled at me. “He might be nice to look at, but he’s no Shawn. He’s just an ass.”

I sniffed the air. “I smell an enemies-to-lovers story brewing.”

She gave me a horrified glance, picked up her tray of coffee, and muttered, “You have to stop reading those damn horny novels. I am not going to fall for that bloody musician.”

She whipped away and stomped back to the stage. I watched, taking note of the way Mia flushed and stared at the ground. Yep. She was crushing hard on this guy.

I gave Nikki and Tristan a quick goodbye, and Shawn followed as I made my rounds to the other merch stalls. Stacey caught up with us eventually, flushed with color and truly alive. It was déjà vu. I hadn’t seen her like this in years.

“Can you believe how well this is going?” she asked, her eyes bouncing from Shawn to me. “At this rate, we’re going to beat our target.”

Shawn smiled, and before I could feel a twinge of anything, he squeezed my hand and pulled me close. “You did a great job managing this, Stace. It really came together.”

“It did, didn’t it?” She gazed around the center in awe, hugging her notebook close to her chest before focusing on me. Her smile wavered. “Lilly, could we talk? Just for a second?”

I stiffened as Shawn squeezed my hip. He nudged his chin toward Stacey, giving me a look that meant Talk to her, and then he was gone, maneuvering his way through the throng of people.

“Lilly, I just want to tell you how sorry I am.” Her voice was quiet but earnest. I gave her a cautious squint. Stacey’s grip on that notebook was so tight, her knuckles were turning white. “Mia was right. I wasn’t fair to you when we were at Pace together.”

I shrugged. Honestly, I didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t great. But she saved my ass. Again. If it wasn’t for her, Trevor would’ve gotten away with ruining this fundraiser, and my career. It’d be a dick move to agree with her.

“And then I helped my cousin get you fired.” She looked over my shoulder, and I knew she was searching the crowd for my boyfriend. “Honestly, after what I did to you, I couldn’t believe Shawn let me work here again.”

She refocused on me. “And I can’t believe you forgave me.”

I wanted to raise a brow and laugh.

“Stacey, your own cousin blackmailed you.”

“I know, but–”

“You didn’t have a choice. Not if you wanted to keep teaching.”

“But that doesn’t make it right.”