VANYA
I force my eyes open and peer at my buzzing phone. Disappointment courses through me when I notice it isn’t my annoying ex-husband-to-be. That disappointment is quickly followed by frustration. Why am I still waiting for Hadyn to call when I broke things off?
I tear my phone off the nightstand and moan, “What?”
“Are you still in bed?” a bright voice asks. “Because I’m outside.”
“Why are you outside?” When the voice registers, I shoot up. “Dejonae? Is that you?”
“I brought chai, but if you’re not interested…”
“No, no, no.” I hop out of bed so fast that Project Vegas slaps me from the inside.
Okay, fine. Technically, those little flutters are not a tiny fetus moving around in my womb. But I get to believe what I want to.
“I’ll be right there,” I say, stuffing my feet into my duck slippers and flailing down the stairs.
When I wrench the door open, Dejonae smiles up at me. She’s in a simple T-shirt that shows off her belly ring. Her curly hair’s scooped up in a ponytail with fringe bangs covering her forehead.
“Hey!” I wrap my arms around her excitedly. “Do all drug dealers pay home visits or just you?”
She laughs into my neck.
I pull back. “What are you doing here? How did you know where I live? Where have you been? I went to the café, but it was closed down and I never got your number. I thought you were lost forever.”
“Slow down, Ms. Beckford.” She lifts her bags and I realize that she’s holding a bunch of groceries.
“What’s this?”
“Judging from the gunk in your eye and the bonnet on your head, it seems like I woke you up. I’m glad I brought ingredients for brunch. You like waffles?”
I grunt. “There’s no gunk in my eye. And yes. Who doesn’t like waffles?”
She steps into my living room and whistles. “How much does this place cost?”
“Enough,” I say.
“Hm.” She sets her bags on the counter in the kitchen and lifts the strap of her purse over her head.
I pad to the fridge and reach for the mug of water. “You tricked me. There’s no chai in those grocery bags.”
“Hold your fire.” She lifts both arms. “I don’t have access to a working blender. Very long story that involves my ex, a cell phone and way too much wine.” She moves to my sink and washes her hands. “So I’ll have to make it here.”
“Why’d you blend your own cell phone because of some guy?”
“I didn’t say I blended my phone.” She gives me a secret smile.
The laughter that pours from my lips sounds like a creaky door that needs some oil. It’s been a long time since I’ve smiled. It’s been even longer since this house heard the sound of laughter.
Dejonae opens my cupboard and fishes out a pan as if she’s been here a hundred times. I watch her work and, instead of a five-foot-three ex-barista with a smart mouth and magic chai fingers, I imagine a half-naked giant with a wing tattoo and messy hair cracking eggs into a pan.
My smile turns plastic immediately and I struggle to keep it on my face so Dejonae won’t know where my thoughts have wandered. She’s the only friend I have who doesn’t know the real story between me and Hadyn. As always, the fact that she’s completely in the dark is why it feels so comfortable being around her.
“How do you know where my pans are?” I ask.
She glances over her shoulder. “You look like the type who keeps things in perfect order. I took a stab at it.”
“You’ve got good instincts.”
She smiles prettily. “I know.”
While Dejonae cooks, I lift my phone and tap out a message to Juniper.
Me: Did you send Dejonae to cook for me?
Juniper: Why would I do that?
I glance up suspiciously. Since I left the hospital, I took a hiatus from my busy schedule. I decided to spend a week doing everything I could to not think about Hadyn.
I cleaned my house from top to bottom, keeping his room firmly closed. I threw out my sheets. Rearranged my room. Bought some plants to freshen up the space.
The point was to exhaust myself until no thought could get through my steel trap of a brain.
But Dejonae barging into my life and rudely taking care of me feels familiar. It’s a Hadyn move.
I tap my fingers on the counter. “You never answered any of my questions, you know. How did you know my address?”
“When was the last time you had chai?” Dejonae asks, totally ignoring my question.
My eyebrows cinch together.
“Do you drink it every day now?” she prods.
“Not really.”
I had a chai tea latte directly after I gave Hadyn the divorce papers. It tasted like ash in my mouth and I knew it wasn’t the chai that was the problem. I knew it had everything to do with the fact that I’d broken up with Hadyn.
Since that day, I haven’t been brave enough to try chai again. I can’t live with myself if a heartbreak ruined my favorite drink.
“You haven’t?” She stops in her tracks. “Are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?”
“I’m fine. I’m in a little… life transition right now.”
“Oh?” She whips eggs in a bowl. “What are you transitioning into?”
“I’m not sure yet. When I figure it out, I’ll tell you,” I murmur.
“Nice and vague. Just the way I like my eggs.”
I drum up a smile for her and this one is a little more genuine. “How’s school?”
“Don’t ask. I need to find a new job to pay for my tuition and guess who’s been unable to land another minimum wage gig with flexible hours and horrible bosses?” She sticks her thumb at herself. “This guy.”
“You can come and work for me.”
“As what?” She arches a brow. “Your honorary chai maker? Thinking of being at your beck and call makes me shiver in fright.”
“What a nice thing to say to your future boss.”
She rolls her eyes. “I know nothing about fashion.”
“Perfect. You’re hired.” I point at her. “You can be my assistant. It was so easy, even Hadyn…” My words drift off as I realize that I dragged Hadyn into the conversation without prompting.
I told myself I wouldn’t wallow, but I seem to be doing a terrible job. Not even Dejonae’s sunny personality can snap me out of it.
“What’s the pay?” Dejonae asks, hopping over my weird trance as if it’s normal.
I blink distractedly. “Better than your old job.”
“How’s the boss?”
I straighten my shoulders. “Prettier than your old boss.”
She laughs.
I try to laugh along, but it’s so hard to find the joy. Ever since I walked away from Hadyn, he hasn’t called once. Not even to check on the baby. I knew he would cut me off after I demanded a divorce, but I don’t understand why he would turn his back on Project Vegas. If it’s one thing he’s made clear, it’s that he loves his child.
That’s just an excuse, Vanya.
I squeeze my eyes shut. Maybe it is. Maybe, despite all my best intentions, I’m exactly the type of woman who would use her child to hold on to a man. And it’s a mistake that I cannot make. Hadyn has no real feelings for me. Even though I’ve fallen for him, I don’t have to be an idiot about it.
“Vanya?” Dejonae waves a hand in my face.
I come back to reality and look at her. “Huh?”
“I’ve been over here yapping and you haven’t heard a word I said,” she mumbles.
I press my palm against the cool counter. “Sorry. Can you repeat that?”
“It’s fine.” She smiles brightly and then presents me with a cup of chai. “My answer is yes.”
My eyes widen. “Yes?”
“I’d be glad to provide you with an assistant.” She dips her head and does a little bow.
“Fantastic. I’ll celebrate with chai.” Clipping the straw, I put my lips against it. The moment the chai hits my tongue, I know I’m in trouble.
It still tastes like ash.
Since I asked Dejonae to be my assistant, I can’t spend my days sleeping and avoiding the world as I’d planned.
My mantra in life has always been ‘fake it ‘till you make it’. This might be just the kick in the pants I need to close the Hadyn-dependent chapter of my life and return to the Old Vanya.
Support comes in different forms. I’m well aware that I have Kenya, Sunny and Dawn on one side, eager to take me under their wings and nurse me back to health. But I’d rather keep pretending I’m okay in front of Dejonae until, one day, I start to believe it.
At least that way, no one gets to see how much I’m hurting.
I arrange for Dejonae to drive me to the publishing house the next day. I haven’t done any work for the cookbook thanks to my shaky popularity, but I think it’s time I get to that. I need to finish the book before Project Vegas is born.
I’m spritzing on my perfume when I get a text from my newest employee.
Dejonae: Downstairs in the car. Waiting for you.
My eyebrows hike.
Me: You can use my car.
Dejonae: It’s okay. Just get into the black SUV downstairs.
I scrunch my nose. That sounds absolutely suspicious and way too close to the plotline of a true crime documentary.
Me: What’s going on?
Dejonae: Trust me!
This stinks of a set up, but I’m already late to my meeting with the director of the publishing house. I’m on thin ice over there and if I tick them off, I can kiss the book deal goodbye.
My sneakers tap out an impatient rhythm when I take the elevator. I’m wearing a hoodie dress to cover my stomach. I’m not showing as much as I thought I would at this point, but it’s still pretty apparent that I’m getting bigger.
At least the paparazzi have cooled down.
I don’t know why they’ve removed their targets from my back. I’m just grateful I can exit my apartment building in peace.
There’s a black SUV with tinted windows waiting on the curb.
I’ve watched my share of Lifetime movies, so I know better than to just hop into this vehicle. I open the door and peer at the driver.
Hadyn’s grey eyes slam into mine.
I jump back like he’s a ghost and trip on the sidewalk. I flail my arms to get my balance, but gravity has other plans and I end up landing hard on my backside.
“Vanya!” The sound of a car door slamming is followed by Hadyn’s frantic footsteps.
He appears next to me, looking like temptation on a spoon with his square jaw, messy hair and fitted suit. How can a man who’s so bad for me look so good? It’s absolutely unfair.
“What are you doing here?” I snap, brushing him off when he tries to help me up. “Where’s Dejonae?”
“She’s not coming today. Something came up so she sent me instead.”
I grit my teeth. No wonder my sixth sense had been tingling when Dejonae randomly showed up at my apartment to make me chai and breakfast.
“You sent her,” I whisper.
“Are you sure you’re not hurt?” Hadyn asks, glancing behind me and brushing my dress off. “You fell pretty hard.”
“I’m fine.” I step all the way back. “Look, I don’t need your help. Go about your day, alright?”
“How will you get to your appointment then?” He arches a perfect eyebrow.
“I’ll call Juniper.”
“He’s out for the day,” Hadyn says calmly.
I stop and glare at him. “I don’t suppose that has anything to do with you, does it?”
“Me? No.” He gives me an innocent look.
“Forget it. I’ll call a taxi.”
“Vanya.” The quiet way he says my name makes me shiver.
I give him my best ‘screw off’ smile. “I don’t need anything but those divorce papers from you, Hadyn.”
“Noted.” He steps close to me. His gaze is a weight on my skin. It’s impossible to ignore the way my heart flips over. I hate that I’m still so affected by him.
Hadyn leans in. “Do you want to do this the easy way or the hard way?”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“I would. It’s about time I flung you over my shoulder, Beckford.”
I place an arm around my stomach. “Fine. I’ll get in the car.”
He opens the door for me.
I hop in and immediately regret it. The car smells like him. A musky, expensive scent that’s unique to Hadyn.
He swoops in while I’m trying to figure out how I’ll stop myself from breathing during the car ride.
“Gotta put on your seatbelt, V.”
I swat his hand away. “Let me—”
He swats me back. “Sit still and let me do this. It’s quicker this way.”
“What are you doing, Hadyn?” I whisper.
He stops and turns to me. His lips are almost on top of mine. His eyes are molten silver lakes, stiller than the ocean before a typhoon. “I’m doing my job as your assistant.” He arches an eyebrow. “Why? Is this weird for you?” He inches a little closer. “Do I make your heart pound, Vanya?”
“Of course not.” I lie. Then I turn my face away because I’m not dumb enough to think I can pull that fib off with him so close. “I feel nothing.”
He chuckles, low and sexy. “Then this won’t be a problem. I can help out for a few days until Juniper comes back to work. You have nothing to worry about.”
“Right,” I say with clenched teeth. “Nothing at all.”
