Everly
As soon asthe bacon starts to sizzle in the cast iron pan, that’s when the smell hits you full force, and like a church bell ringing in the time on a Sunday morning, my youngest brother quite literally sprints from the stairs to the kitchen island.
“You’re cooking. Why? Why are you cooking, Ev-er-ly?” Law sing-songs in a teasing tone.
I drop a death-stare over my shoulder. “Grab the tomato and slice it for me.”
“You never cook breakfast. You only ever cook when you’re stupid-happy or very pissed about something.” He sits at the counter and props his chin on his hands. He looks like a first grader waiting to hear that sugar is a food group. “You don’t look annoyed. You look extra happy, not the normal you, happy. Are you going to gross me out if you tell me why?”
“Cut the tomato, please.” I give him nothing, but my brother is like my partner in crime. We have a sixth sense about each other. And while we’re the furthest in age, his twenty-nine to my thirty-four, we’ve always been the ones to find the best trouble and the most in common. If you got to choose cheerleaders for your life, you choose Law. He’s wholehearted in everything he does, especially when it comes to being my brother. I love him for it. This is also why I’m not surprised he didn’t even have to look me in the eye to notice the catalyst for my behavior this morning.
“Everly ‘Pickle-Tickler’ Riggs, you tell me right now, if I was going to pop over to the pool house last night, would I have found a certain photographer and a certain sister of mine tangled in a web of naughty nastiness?” His voice kicks up at the end, and I’m doing my best to not burst out laughing.
“Yolky or fully cooked?”
“Yolky, obviously. Don’t try to change the subject. You’re cooking and smiling. I deserve to know who I should thank for breakfast this morning.”
I flick the burner off and place a fried egg on top of the tomato. The egg BLT happens to be my favorite of the breakfasts our dad would make as a kid. He always messed up pancakes and waffles. I’m still not sure how, but he did. The egg BLT is also the quickest and this morning I was starving after a full night of sexual satisfaction and an early morning of gut-wrenching honesty with my sexy photographer.I shouldn’t say mine, but he feels like mine.
“Grab the hot sauce, please?” I swing around the counter next to Law and drag our plates in front of where the coffee cups and a French press are waiting. “Yes,” I admit as I take a bite and close my eyes at how delicious this tastes right now. When I open my eyes and glance at my brother, he’s pouring us each a cup.
He stops mid-pour, gives me a side-eye, and says, “I knew it! I knew after I walked in on that make-out session at the office—totally inappropriate, I might add—that it was just a matter of time before you jumped the man.” He takes a sip and looks at me. I can see him trying to size up my reactions from my peripheral vision. “You like him. Like, really like him. Did you bag a man for his meat,” he whisper-shouts like an idiot, “and instead catch feelings!? Tsk tsk, Ev, that’s going to get messy.”
I shrug my right shoulder, trying to make it all seem like less of a big deal than it is for me. I’m trying to compartmentalize all of it. The sex was the hottest of my entire life, the talking was the most honest, and the end of it all makes me want to appreciate it and slap myself all at once. I’m not about to gush with Law about all of the toe-curling details, that’s what G is for, but I’m grateful that my brother can spot happiness. It's obviously pouring out of me from a source other than work.
“You know, he’s not like the other guys you’ve been dating or whatever you call it.”
“I don’t date anyone. I scratch an itch every now and then, but dating isn’t what I’d call any of the last handful of men I’ve been with.”
Biting his sandwich, he chews for a moment, then replies, “Gross. I didn’t need to hear that. All I’m saying is, he’s a good guy. He’s not a pretentious prick, and he’s not boring. Not a single one of the women that hit on him the few times we’ve gone out did he entertain in anything more than polite chit-chat. His business reputation is immaculate. I mean, there’s some dicey stuff with a threesome, I think, from a year or two ago that followed him for a while, but I mean, look at the guy. He’s bound to get around a bit.”
“You don’t need to make a believer out of me. I know he’s a good one.”
“Fine. All I’m saying is, I’m a good judge of character and I think he would be good for you. Push your buttons a little, maybe get you to loosen up some,” he says, as if he’s suddenly chock full of wisdom.
“You say shit like that, and I have to assume you think I’m uptight.” He shrugs his shoulders.Prick.
“I like him, but we decided friends is a good place to be while he finishes his contract with us.” He stops eating and looks at me. “He lives in New York full-time, and I don’t. Long-distance never works and I’m past the age of thinking it might, so while you may be right about my glow, Jack is not a permanent fixture here. He was fun.” I quickly continue, cutting off his rebuttal. “But, I’m okay with that. Last night was…well, last night happened and this morning we decided that friends will have to do, going forward.”
“You are such a bossy dick, Ev. You didn’t even wash the sheets before you were kicking him to the ‘friends’ curb? Jeez, way to hit it and run.” I pinch the skin right above his armpit and he squeals like a pig. “All I’m saying is this: it’s not always black and white. So what if he lives in New York? His sister and her kid live here. That’s his only family, not to mention the man is a damn business mogul. And, hello, you’re doing pretty well for yourself too. I don’t see why you’d chuck something into a box before you had time to really play with it.”
Fucking boxes.I hear him, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of responding to any of it.
“Okay, you’ve already made up your mind here, but since I can’t just leave it, I’ll say this too…when was the last time a man made you feel”—he raises his hands and points from my head to my feet—“like that?”He’s right, of course.
I ignore him and instead shift the discussion. “I need to wrap up the last few summer designs before I submit them to the manufacturer tomorrow. Do you want to have a look beforehand?”
“Nope!” Law says, popping theP. “The designing and choices for the apparel are all you, Ev. You never need my feedback. I’m just the one to push you, that's all. Don’t forget to include some kind of unisex bag for climbing. Michael’s been complaining about how much he hates the fanny pack trend from last season. He’s annoying me.”
We both clean up after eating and I pour us another cup of coffee each. Law passes me the creamer and says, “I get in early and every day, like clockwork, Jack is coming out of your office. He goes in with two cups from that new place you like, and he comes out with just one.” I already had a feeling it was him, but hearing it and having Law witness it makes me feel excited and cared for, even if it’s for something small, like a coffee. “All I’m saying is, he secretly brings you coffee, he makes you smile...I mean, he’s making the rest of us assholes look kind of bad, but that’s besides the point. What do I know? I’m about to research sex club destinations, not ways to find a life partner.”
I snort my coffee and start choking. “You’re ridiculous. I hate you a little bit. I didn’t want a visual of that and you.”
“You’re welcome.” He kisses my forehead and strides out of the kitchen, yelling, “Love you, Ev,” in his wake.
The rest of the day ticks by as I draft some new styles, feeling motivated and inspired for the rest of the line that I need to submit tomorrow. My mind drifts to Jack and I think about what life would have been like had I stayed in New York City after graduation. If I really tried to find a place in the fashion world instead of packing up and heading home. Would I have still ended up here in the long run? In Strutt’s Peak? In bed with Jack Deacon?
The vibration of my phone knocks me out of my haze.
Jin:Everly, we have an issue with Q1 motivation. We need to address it before tomorrow’s meeting with the rest of the board. Can you meet for dinner?
Everly:Of course, but wouldn’t it make sense to discuss it with my father?
Jin:He’s sitting across from me and suggested you join us after we wrap up our trail ride today.
This is why you don’t sleep with your dad’s friends or colleagues. My father is a lot of fun, but it’s hard to decipher if this warrants my time, or if it’s a ploy just for Jin to see me. Jin’s a good person, and while we left things on the platonic side before I escaped from our last overnight, I can’t help but wonder if he has some kind of ulterior motive with this request. On a weekend, nonetheless.
Everly:Let's get some dinner at The Mogul. I’ll see you guys there around 7 p.m.?
Jin:Let’s make it 8. See you then :)