Briony - Wake Me When It's Not March

← Previous Chapter: Chapter 2 /|\ Next Chapter → Chapter 4“So wait a minute!—aaaaaahahahahaha—wait!” While patiently waiting for Evie to catch her breath, I lie huddled beneath the blankets in my bedroom at Nick’s duplex penthouse in Hyde Park. “Evie, you can’t laugh. This is a nightmare!” The only reason I’m not shouting is to avoid waking Nick or Alfie. “All I did was fall asleep on a plane, and I woke up in the twilight zone. Your brother isn’t helping either. I think he experienced some sort of brain death, because he was practically comatose the last half hour we were there. He made me drive back to the penthouse!” I’m still shaken by that one. I can drive a car just fine. Even on the left side of the road if you insist, but when all the nobs and levers are on the wrong side of the car, along with the steering wheel…well, it’s a bit dicey. Throw in the number of roundabouts we had to go through, and yeah..I just made a bunch of left turns until I found the street I needed. And, instead of laughing at me or suggesting he invest in a driver, the whole ride Nick just silently stared out of the window. Evie takes a shuddery breath. “So, you two had a moment, and you called him by a super special nickname even I didn’t know about, all in front of Mum and Dad…” As she tries to suppress the giggle, I can imagine she’s pulling her thick mane of strawberry blonde hair into a bun. I rub at my temple with a shake of my head. “Evie. The looks on their faces…Mum and Dad had a terrifying combination of shock, jubilation and triumph on their faces. Like people who just won the lottery. And Nick…” My mind pores over the scene which will forever be burned into my retinas, haunting me for all time. “Nick looked surprised, but more resigned. If anything, I thought he would be the most affronted, because I just knew he hated when I call him that. Usually his eyes get all dark and serious like he could murder..” My voice trails off when realization dawns as my mind travels back to the moment just before that…when his eyes had taken on that same dark and serious character.. “Oh. My. Word.” I whisper. “Maybe he doesn’t hate it..” “Are you saying…” Evie sounds just as disbelieving as I feel. “No. Noo.” I furiously shake my head, my heart thumping away in my chest. I might pass out if I keep thinking about his eyes, and I’m dumbfounded by the prospect. “He’s never told me to stop using that nickname. I just assumed he tolerated it, but…no. No. I’m crazy. Pull me back from the ledge here, Evie.” Evie hums, “Doesn’t seem crazy to me, Bri. I’ve been saying for years that there must be something there that wasn’t there be—” “DON’T you dare finish that sentence!” I thunder, before slapping my hand across my mouth. Evie sighs, ignoring my panic that I could’ve woken someone else up at nearly midnight. “Bri, let’s just account for the facts. You’re beautiful and single, with a lovely career. Where do you want to go in life…after your food truck empire gets off the ground?” Shrugging my shoulders, I stare up at the ceiling. “I don’t know. I guess, eventually, I’ll settle down, have a few kids and start the next phase. But, you’re talking two, three years down the road. Like when I’m 30.” Evie is silent a hair longer than comfortable. “Um. Bri, I’m sure that’s just the jet lag talking, but you’re going to be 30 next year, darling.” “No..” I start and stop as I go cold. “Wait…I’m going to be 29 this year…” “Indeed love.” “Oh, no…Oh, no! How did I skip years?” My eyes inexplicably fill with tears as I try to breathe through whatever this is. A panic attack? Revenge of the tea sandwiches? Evie groans. “Please tell me you aren’t having an existential crisis at near midnight, because I have to get up for early morning football practice…oh no. Don’t cry, love. It’ll be alright…” She tries to soothe me through the ridiculous tears that follow, but I somehow mislaid a whole two years in my mind. How does that happen? And, although it doesn’t makes sense, it feels good to blame her brother. “Is this the part where we blame Nick for the setback in my plan, and agree to never talk about him again?” I sniffle. “Um, no. It’s not. This is the part where I say I’m going to message him so he can handle the mess he made.” I bolt upright, desperation clawing at my chest as I swipe a hand across my tear-streaked face. “Evie, don’t even think about it! He has to be at the studio at 9am, and he didn’t sleep last night. Please don’t—” “Too late!” She triumphantly crows. “Get ready to meet your existential crisis in the flesh.” “You’re a bum! Do you know that?” I groan, but it has no bite. She cackles giddily. “You’re certifiable, Evie. Girl chats are supposed to help, not hurt. You’ve single-handedly destroyed—” Knock, knock, knock. I go silent as Evie laughs louder. “What was that? Your crisis knocking?” “You’re dead to me!” I whisper into the phone before hanging up on her full blown belly laugh. This is what I get for calling a psychopath instead of my own sister. I know mothers don’t get enough sleep..but I still called her. Knock. Knock. Knock. Insistent bugger isn’t he? I could just wait until he goes away…but he just got up, out of what I’m sure was a dead sleep. Showing some gratitude wouldn’t hurt. Keeping the blanket bundled around me, I slide into my fuzzy slippers, throw open the door…and look away from the open neck of his black henley…and..gah! I can admit, I wasn’t ready to face his sharp grizzled jawline, the wavy hair standing straight up, or the bloodshot eyes peering down at me in confusion as he takes in how I’ve swaddled myself in my blanket. “Evie said you needed help,” he grumbles in his gravelly, sleep filled voice. Oh. My. Word. “Do you want to record an audiobook for me?” I joke. Ok, half joke. Either way, the words are out before I realize I’ve said them. His eyes narrow in bewilderment. “What? You want to record an audiobook…now?” Now, I’m taken aback. Is that an option? I shake my head to clear it. “You know, jet lag is a trip. I’m sorry Evie woke you. Everything’s fine. You can go back to bed.” I attempt to push him from the doorway, but he doesn’t budge. Without his glasses or contacts, Nick squints past me. Not finding what he’s looking for, he grabs my hand, tugging me from the room. “What are you doing?” I whisper hiss as he leads me down the hallway, past the large kitchen, and into the open living room. When he releases me in front of the couch, I about face to return to my room. “Stop,” he calls. I freeze. “Sit.” His tone is firm, but gentle, so I guess he can live. I back up to the sofa and sit, grumbling something about freedom as I stare up at him. Nick goes back into the kitchen and puts on the kettle. When I hear the tell-tale clinking of cups I move to stand. “I can do it.” “Sit, Bri,” comes his gravelly voice once again. So, I sit…and try not to think about why I just obeyed. Or, about this troubling reaction to him in the pit of my stomach. I’ve done an Oscar worthy job of keeping my eyeballs and ears to myself over the past eight years. Mostly to avoid being labeled as one of those crazed fans who gets found standing in a celebrity’s closet rolling around in a pile of their clothes. Why break the streak, now? I shake my head to clear it. Despite what I’m always reminding Evie and Bronwyn, 12 years really isn’t that big a deal. But, falling in love with your boss? No. I refuse to be a statistic. And, I didn’t deny myself the pleasure of looking at him, for it all to fall apart in my last six months of employment. He’syourbosshe’syourbosshe’syourboss… I take a look around at the penthouse to distract myself. Although I’ve been here countless times, the two story condo is still impressive with its back lit, gold veined white marble, dark wood interior, and views of Hyde Park through 20 foot floor to ceiling windows. I don’t know how much Nick paid for this view, but it certainly warms the large space, making it feel private and welcoming. It’s always peaceful, and overlooks the soft lighting trailing through the park. I love it as much as I did when Nick first decided to buy it a few years ago. The kitchen is always well stocked, and it certainly beats getting special accommodations to cook at inns and hotels. When I happen to catch Nick staring at me like I’m an enigma, I offer a small smile. Which…he ignores as he sets up the tea tray. Yeah, that’s about right. If someone woke me up in the middle of the night to talk…I would be growly, too. Yet, like him, I have and would do the same thing, because that’s what friends do. Got it. It’s locked in. He’s my friend, and my boss. That’s why I was confused. I was crossing wires somewhere and forgot. I’m good now. I should be able to— “I don’t add spice.” I rear back in surprise as Nick sits the tray on the coffee table in front of me with a loud thunk. “Sorry—I meant—it can be a hot toddy, but no spices are in there. I brought the whiskey over in case you wanted to toddy your own tea. Or hot—” “Thanks!” I squeak. Shouldering off the blanket, I push up a red pajama sleeve to reach for the teapot, but, my hand is swatted away. “Behave yourself, Bri,” Nick grumbles. I then watch as he sets about making me a cup of tea. “Thanks,” I smile, accepting the cup and saucer. Served twice in one day..I’ll have to mark today on my calendar. Inhaling the aroma, I take a sip, letting the flavors play across my tongue. “Mmm. Ohh…is this peach and rose oolong?” Nick nods, relaxing against the cushions as he takes a deep whiff of the tea before sipping it. It’s cooler in the living room than in my bedroom, so I settle back against the cushions, tucking my feet under me. Taking another sip, I hum as I stare beyond the illuminated park to the city lights blinking on the other side. “This is perfect. How do you always seem to know what tea I want?” Although Nick’s blue eyes droop in fatigue, they light up when he smiles. “Easy.” I wait for him to continue, but he quietly sips his tea. “Easy how?” I prod. He shrugs, staring into his teacup. “You’re flowers first. If no flowers, then fruit, but, always fruit and flowers if it’s an option. Easy.” He takes another sip of tea and closes his eyes, like he didn’t just blow my mind. A flutter in my stomach alerts me to how my heart rate has picked up. I’m sure it means nothing. But, then again, why would he waste time learning that? Um, maybe because you’ve spent nearly every day with the man for years? After that airport luggage debacle a couple of years ago, he even knows your clothing size. Why are you so touched by the fact he knows your preference for tea? At that my heart rate slows, and a few quiet moments go by before I speak again. “If I recall correctly, you were a plain black tea guy. What made you decide to try different kinds?” Nick smiles. “I was curious.” His head rolls in my direction, and through the sleep in his eyes, I see that dark, serious look. It’s hiding, but it’s there. How long has it been hiding there? What does it mean? I blink back at him, and suddenly feel a need to cool my parched throat. I turn back to my tea, letting the flavor roll across my tongue. But, unable to stop myself, I ask, “What were you curious about?” Nick quietly chuckles, as if he’s in some memory. “The taste. I wanted to know…what it tasted like. You always seem to enjoy every flavor..as if you’re exploring it, and deciding it’s possibilities. I can see it as it happens. You take notes mentally, knowing where every flavor fits in your endless catalogue, and how you’ll use it later. It’s fascinating, and it’s made me want to explore as well.” When I raise my brows, he lifts a shoulder in response. “Tea had merely been a utilitarian event to check off the list. Sometimes it was pleasant, often it just served its purpose. Without knowing it, you taught me to sit and savor. And, not just tea. It’s the reason why I’m ok with the quiet now. I don’t have a need to fill it up with noise. I hope I’ll have that same relationship to other things as well one day.” Hmm. “What other things do you want to explore?” Genuine curiosity prompted the question, yet, as Nick gazes at me intently, I blink to assure myself I’m awake. “I look forward to food now more than ever,” he says slowly. “You tease me about my love of potatoes, but I didn’t know I had that love until the first time I sat across from you at dinner, and watched you eat and hum over a side of scalloped potatoes. That’s when I learned that people can eat, not out of necessity, but for the joy of it. I realized I’ve never eaten that way, but I wanted to.” Gulp. I swallow down my remaining tea, positive I tasted none of it. “That’s an exciting thing to look forward to,” I croak. “You should take advantage of your opportunities.” He’s studying me again, a slight wrinkle in his brow that causes me to duck my head. “I’m still learning how to use it, but, I know it’s a perspective that’s a gift I’ll always cherish, Bri.” I look up, but he’s already returned to drinking his tea. It would be so easy to dismiss the idea. But, when I think back to how Nick went from being grumpy and aloof as he ignored my chatter, to the open, warm, and albeit, still a bit grumpy person in front of me, the truthfulness of his statement strikes me. When I first started working for him, he was so snippy that I decided we didn’t need to speak again. Apparently, after one week of only communicating via email, although I was often in the same location that he was, Evie called me, begging me to try to be friends, for her sake. I only agreed because there’s nothing I won’t do for my bestie, but it was touch and go for a while. At least, until he stopped acting as if I was trying to kidnap him, and started responding to my random chatter. Over the years, that uneasy truce turned into friendship of a sort. Oh…why am I just realizing that I don’t want to give up my friendship with this man, who has only just begun to sip at life? The thought leaves me shaken, since I didn’t have any idea I felt that way, but also because I feel it with an unmistakable certainty. But, that’s ridiculous. He’s…fill in the blank. At least a hundred excuses pop into my mind. Only four are reasonable, and the only one that feels like a true roadblock, is a question. Could he ever see me as anything more than his little sister’s best friend? Blinking my eyes, I give myself a mental shake, struggling to bring my mind back to the subject we were discussing. “I think we all savor life in different ways, Nick. I’ve seen you do it in your own way, and some even say you’re a pro at it.” Nick raises a brow, but patiently waits for me to explain. “Like your habit of savoring people, their quirks…the things that make us tick. I’ve seen you cataloguing details about them, and then pulling them out for various characters. A little accent here, a squint of the eyes there, a turn of an ankle, a quirk of the brow. In the end, when we watch you perform, we’re feasting on the flavors you’ve curated for us to enjoy that performance.” The sleep has fled his eyes for the moment as he studies me with an unreadable expression. I smile, thinking of the incredible amount of work he puts in. “The beauty of your gift, is that it allows people to feel seen and heard in ways that aren’t easily articulated. And, you’re a fantastic curator, Nicky babe. That’s why your performances resonate with so many people. ” He gazes at me, his eyes dark and serious, but also…ablaze with something. Whether it’s with passion, or understanding I can’t decipher, so I duck my head to put my cup and saucer back on the tray. I could go for a second cup, but maybe it’s best if I go back to my room and sort through my confusion. Yet, without a word, Nick refills my mug from the teapot, stirs in a cube of sugar, and returns the teacup and saucer to me. “Thanks. How did you know I wanted more?” I smile. Nick frowns as he shakes his head. “You weren’t satisfied, yet. When you have your fill of something, it shows.” I wait, but he presses his lips into a thin line, like he doesn’t want to continue this conversation anymore. Nodding, I sit back to enjoy my tea. As we gaze out over the lights of the park in the quiet contentment of familiarity, a warmth steals over me. Is this what it’s like to be savored by someone? Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no! I’m only asking for trouble if I’m going to start speculating about what he’s thinking. We aren’t doing this, Bri. He’s still your boss, and you have a job to do for the next six months. I take an unsteady breath. It won’t do me a bit of good to start wondering about his feelings now. I’ll have to unravel that thread another time. I bite my lip, and change the subject “Hey, if I recall correctly, you stopped drinking black tea about three years ago. It was around the time we were in Shanghai for that award show. Remember, you took me to all of those tea houses, and when one of the teahouse owners admitted the best oolong was found in Fujian Province, you found a way to have them ship it back home.” Nick smiles as he sips his tea. “That was definitely the best oolong I’ve had.” I take another sip, more certain I’m right. It’s the same tea we’re drinking now. “Thank you for bringing it here. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.” He nods, sitting his empty teacup on the table with a little sigh The moonlight captures the streaks of silver at his temples, filling me with curiosity. 40 certainly isn’t old age, but it’s safe to say it’s near middle age. Yet, Nick always attends award ceremonies alone. I never hear him speak of marriage or kids. Unless he’s been sneaking around with a makeup artist or boom operator, I’m 99% sure he doesn’t date. What does Nick want out of life? Besides savoring it? He glances over and startles when he sees me watching him. “Why didn’t you want me to make your tea?” I ask, curiously. He pauses a long moment. When he speaks, his words are slow, measured, as if he wants to get this right. “We walk a fine line every day between employer and employee, and friendship.” I nod in agreement. Running a hand through his waves, he angles his body to face me. “You wear a uniform, because you want to reinforce those boundaries, yes?” I shouldn’t be surprised that he gathered that information from my insistence on and adherence to my own dress code policy, yet, here we are. My quick nod confirms it. “I’m fine with that,” he continues, “because I know it means you respect me as your employer, and you want to show respect for your position. Yet, that same uniform, in some ways, prevents us from crossing other boundaries, that may be completely fine.” My heart rate quickens, as he continues, nodding as he eyes me. “For instance, if I treated you the way I did tonight when you had your uniform on, it would have been completely different. You wouldn’t have sat because I asked you to, and you never would have allowed me to make you a cup of tea, no less two. Do you follow?” “Ah, ok. I guess that makes sense. The uniform doesn’t really give permission for anything besides a work relationship. Our friendship kind of blossomed out of bounds.” A gentle quirk of the lips tells me I’ve hit the mark. “So, is it alright, Bri, when it’s just you and me, in these quiet moments, if we can be real friends? I already know you’re a professional, and you’re the best chef I’ll ever have.” He smiles when I playfully bow, then continues. “But, I want us to change how we grow. To be friends without fear.” I raise a brow, and he chuckles. “You know what I mean. Nothing inappropriate, just—if you’re ok with it—being the kind of friends who do things for one another without an expectation of repayment. Friends who help each other when they see there’s a need. Is that something that you’re ok with?” I knew the friend zone was in the area, but I didn’t expect it to unexpectedly land on me so firmly. At least I know where I stand…? I nod, with more to process than ever. I’ve finally admitted to myself that Nick is someone I’m interested in getting to know on a deeper level, after peeling back newer, more interesting layers. With Nick admitting that he wants us to be better friends going forward, it’s the perfect solution…so why am I still so confused? When I nod, Nick eyes me. “Good. So, why were you crying earlier?”← Previous Chapter: Chapter 2 /|\ Next Chapter → Chapter 4Subscribe for new posts every week! Get full access to I'm Just Here For BOOKS at everblueauthor.substack.com/subscribe