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“Bye, Mom,” I finished weakly, the silence coming from the other end of the line louder than any of the words she said to me. I flopped back against my pillows, huffing out a breath. She didn’t understand why this was important to me, and it seemed like she wasn’t willing to. Ridge Reads had greatly benefited from the same program I was working for, helping to fill in funding gaps during the pandemic. I represented the third generation of Ridge Reads and I loved the store, but my parents’ unwillingness to grow and change with the times had stifled my ability to see myself there long term. If they didn’t act fast, there wouldn’t be a Ridge Reads for me to take over when they retired, and I knew there were plenty of other stores across the country like it.
Suddenly, I heard the shower in the master across the hall start up. How many showers does this guy take in twenty-four hours? The image of Hayden in a towel, then dropping the towel, then stepping into the shower, jumped into my mind.
I sat up in my bed suddenly. No, absolutely not. Austin was right. I had lived somewhat like a nun ever since he’d known me, and even before, but there was a reason, and I was so close to getting it. I had gotten my degree while working full time at the store. I had upset my parents and put the store even more at risk by leaving, even if it was just for a few months. I couldn’t let anything distract me from my goals.
I picked up my phone and opened to my text thread with Austin.
Charlotte (8:25 PM): I need that prank document, please and thank you. He’s gotta go.
Austin (8:26 PM): Already in your email. Chat with Mom not go well?
Charlotte (8:29 PM): It was… more of the same. But, thanks for sending it. You get me.
Austin (8:31 PM): Anytime. Let me know how some of these go over, and you know, feel free to send pics, so I can see what we’re working with *winking emoji* *eggplant emoji*
Charlotte (8:33 PM): You’re terrible. Have fun on your date. *winking emoji* *eggplant emoji*
I navigated over to my email app and pulled up the list Austin sent. It looked like he had emailed it as soon as we hung up, correctly predicting what talking to my mom would do to my mood. He really was a great friend. I started scheming, seeing if there was anything on the list I could implement immediately and began an Amazon cart for the supplies I didn’t have. Time for you and your freakishly defined shoulders to find somewhere else to shower, Hayden Brandt.
Chapter
Seven
Hayden
I returned to the apartment after another run along the river. I hadn’t seen Charlotte since our conversation in the kitchen last night. I’m sure she had to have eaten dinner at some point, but she was quiet as a mouse about it.
Who was that Austin guy, anyway?
Not that it mattered. We were just temporarily thrown together here, so no use getting attached.
Sure, say it one more time, then it’ll really stick.
As I got into the shower and washed off the sweat from the early morning DC humidity, I thought about the way Charlotte’s eyes lit up when she was talking about wanting to help other independent bookstores survive and thrive. I could admit that Charlotte was gorgeous, her curves, hair, and blue eyes sparkling, but when those same eyes were lit from inside with her enthusiasm and passion? That was my catnip.
You’ve had one real conversation with the girl. She’s pretty and she’s passionate, but what you don’t know could be a whole can of worms you don’t want to open. Let it go, Brandt.
As I finished washing the shampoo out of my hair, enjoying the excellent water pressure in Duncan’s shower that was large enough for six men my size, I tried to do just that. I thought ahead to the day in front of me—more get-to-know-you meetings and reviewing reports. I hated this part of starting a new job. I just wanted to dig into things and get to work. Though, my days of digging through code and systems were likely limited, given the Chief at the front of my new title.
I pulled on another suit, navy blue this time, and added the tie the tailor had suggested I wear with it. I looked at the clock on the bedside table and swore, hating that I was running behind. I’d still arrive at the office before most other people, but doubted I’d beat Leslie.
I walked into the kitchen and grabbed my reusable coffee mug, heading to the machine to brew a quick cup of coffee for the road. My hand immediately detected something sticky along the bottom of the cup.
“What the…” I said as I put the cup back on the counter and examined my hand. “Is that soap?”
I guess the cup had been sitting in some leftover dish soap from when Charlotte had done her dishes last night. I turned on the faucet to rinse off the cup and my hand. All of a sudden, I was doused with a torrent of water as the sprayer came to life, maneuvering out of its perch to cover me from crotch to shoulder and then carried on with soaking the kitchen counter and the floors.
“Fuck!” I yelled, overcoming the initial shock of receiving an extra shower after my clothes were already on. I examined the sprayer head to see how this could happen and noticed the handle was depressed with an elastic blue hair tie. This meant as soon as the sink was turned on, it would spray the unwitting fool standing there. I racked my brain, trying to figure out if there was a way a band could have accidentally made its way there, but no, that was definitely intentional placement.
What the actual fuck? Are we twelve? I thought, as I headed back to my room to change. I guess the navy suit would have to wait for another day. I pulled on khaki pants and the charcoal jacket from yesterday. Probably a little more casual than I would have liked for day number two, but I wasn’t risking another suit.
And now I’m really late and still don’t have my coffee. I returned to the kitchen sink and removed the hair tie, completing the washing of my cup that I was now convinced had been soaped up on purpose to ensure I used the sink this morning. I set the coffeemaker to brew and grabbed my shoes from the front door, sitting on the couch to tie them while I listened to the hot liquid pour into my metal mug.
My toes met resistance partway into my brown dress shoes. “Come the fuck on,” I muttered after another shove of my foot didn’t yield different results. Pulling the shoe off and into my lap, I reached into the opening and pulled out crumpled paper towels stuffed into the toes of the shoe. “Not very environmentally friendly of you, Ms. Reid,” I muttered, repeating the action on the other shoe and coming away with another piece of paper towel.
With my shoes finally on both feet, I grabbed my cup from the coffeemaker, pouring a splash of oat milk from the fridge and a heavy dash of sugar from the sugar bowl. One unfortunate incident was funny, but two pranks before 8:00 a.m. meant war. One upside to city living was the ability to have supplies delivered to your front door in mere hours. I had grown up with four brothers. Charlotte will never know what hit her.
As I walked to the elevator, I took a sip out of my coffee cup and immediately spit it back out, my hand rushing to my chin to avoid needing a third shirt for the morning due to dribbled coffee. Salt in the sugar bowl? Make that three pranks. Oh, it was so on.
