Whiskey Sharp: Unraveled. Lauren Dane
But she’d just tell Maybe she was doing everything wrong anyway. The kitchen and her garden were the only places totally under their mom’s complete control. Their dad ran everything else.
It was one of the few things Maybe missed about living in Spokane. At least then they didn’t really expect her to come to Thanksgiving. Once she’d left their house and moved in with her aunt and uncle, her parents generally found it unnecessary to deal with her unless they had to.
She made her own domain. On her terms with the guidance and love of her aunt and uncle. It had transformed her life, made her realize her worth in a way she hadn’t growing up.
But after Rachel and Maybe had settled in Seattle instead of Rachel moving back to Los Angeles where they’d been from, their parents had sold their house and moved up to the Northwest, and their ugly, dark need to control came back into her life again.
It made her harder, it made her stronger and in the end, if she didn’t view it like that, it would have eaten her alive.
“We’ll go, but we only stay on our terms.” Rachel’s voice had gone cold and hard. A glimpse of the woman she’d been and was working her way toward once more. Following the rules was one thing, but Rachel had never been one to get manipulated or maneuvered into anywhere other than where she planned on going.
Rachel took her hands, squeezing them a moment. “What was on that meme you sent me the other day? Oh yeah, Do No Harm, But Take No Shit. I think I need that on a cross-stitch to hang over my damn bed. Anyway. It’s time I start pushing back harder about what I want and for them to get off your case.”
“It’s cool to want to be comfortable and safe and drama free except for the dumb crap at the shop or whatever.” Maybe kept her voice calm. Rachel hated pity and she was always careful to bury it far out of her sister’s way.
“I know what it costs you to run interference with them.”
“You’re going to make me cry so stop this now,” Maybe warned.
“Thank you.” Rachel said this with utter seriousness. “I needed it and now I need to stand on my own more often. Especially with them.”
“I’ll call them back to let them know and get the details.”
“I’ll do it. Don’t argue.” Rachel gave her the stink-eye. “It’s my turn. And I can gauge how strong their when will you get serious and find a real job and stop consorting with those people game is.”
“Good luck with that. They’re world champions and you’ve fallen in with your shiftless sister and her loser friends.”
“It doesn’t matter what they think. I know you.” Rachel waved a hand, but her face was serious.
“It’s cool. I can use it in my art and shit.”
Rachel saw through the bravado, but she let it go with a smile. “Pain is prose, baby. And it pays the bills. Barely, but I’m okay with that for now. I’ve got this and I’m not arguing about it another moment.”
Maybe shrugged and held her hands up. “Okay then. Call in an airstrike if you need it. You know where I am.”
EARLY THE NEXT AFTERNOON, Maybe headed to have her regular Friday lunch with her best friend Cora and Rachel at the tiny deli just a few doors down from the tattoo shop where they both worked.
Rachel had been up and out first thing that morning. She still had regular doctor and therapy appointments, though the frequency had dwindled and would continue in that direction.
But she was there, along with Cora, at a small table where a bottle of soda already waited for her.
Cora Silvera had been Maybe’s best friend pretty much from the first day she’d shown up at Whiskey Sharp and stopped by this same little deli for a soda before she went to work. Cora had grabbed the last orange fizz, but when she’d taken note of Maybe’s disappointment, she’d handed it over with a smile.
Then, it turned out she worked at Ink Sisters with Rachel and was related to Rachel’s mentor and new boss. In the next months she’d ended up being besties with both Dolan sisters.
“You’re my favorite,” Maybe said as she sat and took a swig of orange fizz.
“Of course I am. Why do you look so sexy today?” Cora asked. “Snug shirt to showcase the knockers. Red lipstick. The way your hair is standing up extra high. Are those streaks new?”
“Okay, so at eleven last night after telling Rachel the story of my date and talking about my undeniable thing for my hot boss, I decided to add them because I figured I finally need to see what it could be between me and him.”
“Well, I think the silver really pops against the red and I love it. I’m glad you had a shitty date so you finally allowed yourself to jump on Alexsei’s bones.”
“Penises don’t have bones,” Maybe deadpanned.
Cora giggled and Rachel just shook her head with a grin. “You’re a woman of loose morals, Maybe Dolan. By the way you look ridiculously hot and I’m thrilled you finally found a way to get around the whole he’s-my-boss thing. If you date a bit, have some sex and it’s meh, you two aren’t going to flip out. You’ll still be friends and coworkers. But I don’t know, he seems to look at you...really look at you. He watches the way you move. You have the hots for him too. So why not see where it goes because it could be something super delicious and hot? And to be honest, Rachel and I have decided we need to have sex with him vicariously.”
Maybe snickered. “I should never leave the two of you alone to talk about me.”
“This is totally true.” Rachel winked. “Too late though.”
They made some plans to meet up later and, buoyed by Cora’s opinion, Maybe bounced into Whiskey Sharp—after brushing her teeth and reapplying her lipstick—with a few minutes to spare before her first appointment.
* * *
ALEXSEI PRETENDED HE didn’t realize how often he found himself looking up at the door. She liked to work the late afternoon into evening several nights a week to couple her schedule to take advantage of the happy-hour-booze-and-a-haircut specials at the bar, which opened and began serving at four in the afternoon.
Smart.
She knew her clientele. Knew they enjoyed a drink after they left their jobs in the offices crammed downtown. It had been her idea to do the happy hour shave and drink specials they were now famous for.
He liked to see Maybe in the afternoons. Liked the way the sunlight would hit her while she worked. Essentially, he liked seeing her whenever she was around.
It was thinking of her that had gotten him through what had been a truly monstrously awkward late breakfast with his mother and aunt. There’d been posturing, as always, between the two sisters. Lots of passive-aggressive commentary. He and Cris had eaten and tried to talk around all the tension.
He frowned, thinking of it all over again, but this time when he looked up from his work, there she was standing in the doorway, always pausing just a moment as she came in like she greeted the walls and floors as much as everyone else.
Another thing that got to him. She seemed to love the physical space as much as he did.
She looked extra...that is, very whatever it was she exuded when she wore those pants. Maybe was a jumble of old and new in all the best ways. Hard and soft. She looked feminine and fierce and it set his heart pounding.
“Afternoon, class.”
Why he loved it so much when she was ridiculous and irreverent he wasn’t sure. But it was true anyway.
She glided around the shop, taking her coat off, touching base with their office manager and the other barbers