Holly versus Mr. Ivy by Amanda P. Jones
Chapter 9
Rhett
as I dropped the suspension trainer I used to work my shoulder muscles. Bear sat in the corner of my basement, watching me with big, sad eyes. I’d finally cajoled him into eating this morning, but it had taken me sitting right next to his food bowl and soothingly running my hand down his back for him to finally chew the pebbles I’d poured.
Honestly, if it hadn’t been for Bear licking my palm as it hung off the side of my bed, I probably would have stayed asleep all day. It had finally dawned on me why I struggled so much lately. My mind remembered better than I had that a year ago Lexi had dumped me, and a year before that, Pops had passed away. My body, in an effort to protect itself from the pain, had fallen back into my old pattern of sleeping all the time in order to feel nothing.
As I rubbed Bear’s thick, white fur, I remembered how things had ended between Lexi and me. Every weekend when she’d wanted to go out on a date, I’d declined, choosing to sleep until I had to get to work. The second I’d gotten home from work, I crashed again, repeating the cycle.
When I slept, I didn’t feel the loss of Pop’s arm around my shoulder, telling me how proud he was of me. When I slept, I didn’t remember the spicy musk of his deodorant or the way his laugh always made me smile. When I slept, I didn’t remember that he wasn’t a phone call away anymore.
Jack was the one who visited and noticed my messy house and rumpled clothing. He’d made me go see my therapist, and I’d gotten on medicine again, which helped. Jack had known about my depression even when we were in high school. Admitting I needed help, that something was off, was hard. Thankfully, my best friend knew me well enough to recognize the signs. On more than one occasion, he’d rescued me by encouraging me to get help. It was why I’d do anything for him, including try to save his bakery and watch his dog. If only my ex had believed I could get better like Jack did. Instead, Lexi had ditched me faster than a worm-infested apple. I’d hoped as my girlfriend, she would want to help me the way Jack had. That she’d stay by my side while I worked on getting better.
My illness had been too much for her. The Lexi I’d first met was not the same as the one who broke up with me. She’d changed over the year we’d been together. At some point, her standards for every date we went on had become extravagant, like she was trying to prove to the world she was worth something because she wore designer clothes and went out to restaurants and clubs with months-long waiting lists.
At the time, I’d enjoyed living that lifestyle. I’d gotten caught up in the way she smiled when we walked into a room together. Or how she’d always kept a hand on me, claiming me. I’d felt like the luckiest guy in the world because this blonde bombshell had wanted me. Since she’d left, tearing me down on her way, I hadn’t had the capability to risk my heart like that again. She’d made me feel like I had no value as a human because of an illness I battled.
It was hard to find worth when the person I’d spent a year of my life with had ditched me the second I no longer suited her lifestyle. My chest hardened, protecting itself from the pain that always came whenever I thought of Lexi.
I did one last set of shoulder presses before running on my treadmill for three miles. Bear followed me up the stairs, almost making me trip when his leg collided with mine. “Back up a bit, man. I know you miss your dad, but making me fall won’t help.”
Bear responded by pressing his nose to my calf. Okay, then. With sweat dripping down my face and naked torso, I bent on one knee, wrapping both arms around Bear, scratching the sides of his belly. “He’ll be home soon. I promise.”
Bear’s warm body relaxed under my ministrations, and I swear my oxytocin levels increased, which in turn decreased some of the anxiety pressing on my chest. Hmm. Maybe it was time to get a dog of my own. I’d never had one because I wasn’t home often with my crazy work schedule. Maybe if I had a pet—since girlfriends were not an option—it would force a balance between work and home life.
After showering and playing with Bear a little longer, I snatched my keys off the hook by the garage door, grabbed my laptop bag, and headed to The Boardwalk. Holly and I were planning the last details of the employee party.
I pulled into the parking lot next to Holly’s red car. My truck dwarfed her convertible. Funny how that was like us in person. I grinned as I pictured Holly letting her hair loose as she drove along the coast with the top of her car down, belting out lyrics to Taylor Swift songs. I didn’t even know if she was a Swiftie. Just the idea of the Holly I knew from work doing that made me laugh.
Standing outside the back entrance to The Boardwalk, I pasted on my smile and mentally prepared myself to be outgoing and friendly, ignoring the ever-present darkness and anxiety I’d experienced as of late. I yanked open the metal door that led to the hallway between my office and the kitchen. I made as much noise as possible so Holly wouldn’t dump her coffee all over herself again.
“Honey,” I called out, “I’m home! Where are you?”
Holly immediately spat back, “I am NOT your honey!”
Laughing, I peeked my head into her office. Holly sat behind her desk, a pen tucked behind her ear and an annoyed expression on her face.
I feigned offense. “And all this time, I thought there was something between us.”
She tilted her head to the side and shot me a Really? glare.
I pulled the strap of my leather laptop bag higher on my shoulder. “Aw, come now, Chef Dewhurst. If you tease back, life’s more fun.” And it helped lighten my mood. With Jack gone, I had to have someone to banter with to get my mind off my own issues.
She pulled the pen out from behind her ear. “It was a glitch.” She raised one shoulder, then dropped it.
“Are you Vanellope from Sugar Rush?”
She looked confused. “Who?”
How had she not seen that movie? As a grown man, I liked it, and I saw it without any children to coerce me into doing so. “Wreck It Ralph? The movie?”
She shook her head. “Not ringing a bell.”
I was affronted on behalf of Disney. “That’s it. We have to remedy that situation at once. When’s your next day off?”
She eyed me. “We”—she pointed between us—“don’t have to do anything.”
I wouldn’t let this go so easily. But why? Why did I care so much if Holly saw this movie or not? A big part of me said it was because Holly needed a friend. Another part said I needed one. Which was crazy because I had plenty of friends. I truly did not need more. But I never shied away from one either. Feelings and reasoning aside, we would have a movie night together. “I’d tell you just go home and watch the movies on your own, but I don’t trust you.”
“Excuse me?” she snipped.
I backpedaled. “I trust you. I just meant, you’ll tell me you’ll go home and watch them, but you’ll push it off, and weeks will go by and you still won’t have seen them. I think you’ll enjoy the movies.” And hopefully learn to let others (or me) in. Though I really should walk away. But Holly was like made-from-scratch cookie dough. Too hard to resist.
“I’ll watch them and report back to you,” she stated.
“Or…” I hedged. “I’ll provide popcorn, treats, and beverages. You choose the place, and we can make it an outing.”
Her perfectly shaped brows pulled together. “Why are you pushing this so much? And what if someone found out and reported us to your uncle?”
Yeah, why was I? I’d be gone in two months. We would be in huge trouble if Anthony thought our platonic outing was a date. I shouldn’t bother with Holly. But…I cared about making her happy and wanted to be her friend. Good idea or not. “Because I think it would be good for us. Consider it a bonding experience to strengthen our co-management of the restaurant.” That was absolute rubbish, but I was going with it. It also gave me a valid excuse if someone did find out we hung out outside of work—but I wasn’t going to tell anyone, and if Holly didn’t say anything, I wasn’t sure how Uncle Anthony would ever know anyway.
She flung her hand out to the side. “You can’t just say that about everything, you know.”
“Say what?”
“That it’s for the restaurant, or management, or whatever. Every idea is ‘to help increase revenue.’ Explain to me in detail how watching a cartoon helps profits?”
I sat in the chair across from her. “First of all, I quite enjoy our time together, so that’s reason number one. Number two, any time we come to understand one another better, our employees benefit. Number three, there are a few elements that I won’t go into detail about because I don’t want to ruin the movie for you, but I believe they are good lessons for anyone to learn.” Especially you. “Number four, you may never admit this, but I think you might actually enjoy this homework assignment. Popcorn, licorice, soda? What’s not to love? Number five, you get to spend more time with me, and when is that ever a bad thing?” I shot her a cocky grin.
She placed her palms on her desk and leaned forward. “Are you bored, Mr. Ivy, or lack friends? I mean, you seem so friendly and nice that it’s hard to believe you need friends. But why do you care so much about me, the employees, and this restaurant when you’re leaving in a few months?”
Ouch. “I have plenty of friends, but is there a limit on how many one person can have?” I shook my head. “There is not. And I care about doing my job to the best of my abilities because any job worth doing is worth doing well. I love what I do, and it doesn’t matter how much time I spend at any given restaurant. When I commit, I hold nothing back. Why are you so adamant we do nothing but work all the time?”
“Have you ever spent time with any of the other chefs or employees at the other restaurants where you’ve worked, outside of office hours, that didn’t include official business?”
A glint entered her eye, one that said she’d proven her point.
Too bad I was a friendly guy who enjoyed getting to know new people. “Yes, I have. Multiple times. The last chef I worked with became a good friend. I still keep in contact with him. I get together every so often with the assistant manager, now the manager, at the first restaurant I ever worked at. This may seem crazy to you, Chef Dewhurst, but not for me.”
“If I do this”—she held up a finger for emphasis—“if, then I don’t want to hear another word about how I’m not a team player.”
I smirked. “I never said you weren’t a team player. A grumpy player, yes. But not not a team player.”
“Grumpy?” she said, offended.
I winced. “I’m sorry. Was that new information to you?”
Her jaw went slack, and she exhaled a tiny scoff, letting me know I had gone too far.
“I apologize. I was trying to be funny, but it wasn’t. I’m sorry.”
“Fine. Consider it ignored.” She sighed. “Let’s watch a cartoon together and braid each other’s hair.”
I grinned. “I do a really good French braid.”
She blurted out a laugh. “I’m sure all your girlfriends helped with that.”
Rude. Presumptuous. And quite judgmental. “My grandma taught me. Every summer, my cousin Lola’s long, flowy hair got so tangled playing at the beach that Grandma made all of us learn how to do Lola’s hair so she wouldn’t have to cut it all off to rake a comb through it.” I smiled at the memory of my cousin so caught up in building sand castles that she’d never bothered with brushing her hair in the mornings. Sometimes I missed the summers of my youth when Mom’s side of the family would gather in Nantucket for three months.
“Oh. Well.” Her lips pulled up into the slightest smile. “That’s actually sweet.”
“It is. But because of your comment, I’m passing on the braiding. What kind of snacks do you prefer?”
“Cream soda, Red Vines, and Junior Mints, please.”
I wasn’t one for junk food, but on road trips and movie nights, I made an exception. “All excellent choices. Now, your place or mine?”
She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Umm. Mine.”
“Fabulous. What day and time?”
“Monday at one?”
Combined, the movies took over three hours to watch. I had to be to the restaurant early because the new assistant manager started that day. “Could you make it nine-thirty instead? Aaron starts at two on Monday, and I can’t be late.”
“Yeah, that’s fine.” She bit her lip. “Can my mom join us?”
Wait. Did she live with her mom, or was she inviting her mom over? Was she afraid I’d try something if we were left alone? Weird and again a little hurtful. I’d never put the moves on a woman who wasn’t interested. “Absolutely. The more the merrier.”
Holly looked relieved. “Thank you. We should finalize next week’s party before everyone else shows up.”
“Right.” I pulled out my laptop, and we got down to business. With two and a half months left to increase revenue, we had a LOT of work left to do.
I’d just finished vacuuming on a Saturday morning when my doorbell rang. Bear went wild, sensing his human was finally back. “Hush, Bear.” Pulling him back by his collar, I finally managed to get the door open wide enough before Bear launched himself at Jack.
Bear pounced onto Jack’s chest, licking his face in greeting.
Jack scratched behind his ears. “I missed you too, bud.” He hugged Bear’s neck, burying himself in his dog’s enthusiastic hello.
That was the most physical I’d ever seen Jack get with anyone. He loved that dog. From the dark circles under his eyes and mussed-up hair, Jack hadn’t spent the night sleeping well. My heart panged in my chest, afraid of the update Jack had to tell me.
I leaned a shoulder against the entryway wall with one leg crossed over the other, watching as human and animal reconnected. I’d miss having Bear as my companion. Someone to be there when I was at home, lonely and bored. Most of all, someone to force me out of bed when life threatened to pull me under.
Finally, Jack grabbed Bear’s collar and led him back into my house.
“Welcome home, man,” I said.
“Thanks.” He nodded. “I’m glad to be back.”
I pushed myself off the wall. “How’d it go the last few days?”
He groaned. “Where do I even start?”
“Uh-oh. Come on.” I waved him into my kitchen, pulled out two waters from the fridge, and guided Jack to my leather sectional in the great room. Taking a seat, I rested my ankle on top of my knee. “I know you can’t say if you won or not, but tell me what you can.”
Jack sat on the opposite end from me, sagging into the cushions. Bear lay across his feet, like he couldn’t handle not touching Jack in case his human left him again.
Jack fiddled with the cap of his water bottle. His eyes went glassy as he croaked out, “We’ve lost the bakery.”
Nooo!I moaned as my heart broke for my best friend. Jack’s life had more downs than ups. His mom’s bakery was the one good, real thing he had left from his childhood. To see that taken away after everything else Jack had endured shattered me. The darkness that had been threatening me lately crept in further. I wasn’t sure how much devastation I could handle before I completely broke down. “Things were bad after what Mark did, but not totally out of the realm of being fixed last we spoke. What happened?”
“Mark is what happened,” Jack growled.
“Obviously.” I rolled my eyes. Mark was the worst brother ever. “But did you ever find out about First Presidential?” I’d discovered Love Bakes was making payments to First Presidential Bank, but Jack wasn’t sure why.
Jack leaned his head back on the cushion and closed his eyes as he filled me in on everything he’d learned the past few days. “Anyway,” Jack continued, “because of Mark’s poor management, the bank is auctioning off the building. Love Bakes is officially declaring bankruptcy.”
Bankruptcy? Emotion swelled in the back of my throat. “No, Jack. I’m so sorry. What can I do to help?”
He met my sad gaze with one of his own. “You’ve done plenty, and I appreciate it so much.”
“You know I’m happy to do what I can for you. You’re like my brother. Although, I’m nothing like your real one.” That worthless tool better not show his face around me ever again, otherwise my fist would happily rearrange his features.
Jack forced out a chuckle. “Don’t I know it? Can you spare some time to help me move?”
How would I find the time with how busy I was at the restaurant? It didn’t matter. When my best friend asked for help, I showed up.
Besides, packing up his mom’s bakery wasn’t the best thing for Jack to do alone. I didn’t even know how I was going to handle it, and it wasn’t even my family’s legacy being taken away. “Absolutely.” I pointed toward the garage. “Need my truck?”
“That would be great, thanks.”
“What about the show?” Not that he could say much because of the non-disclosure he had signed.
He hung his head. “Not much to tell.”
So even that hope was dashed. “Shoot.” I slapped my leg in frustration. Things had gone from awful to horrific. “I wish I had enough money to give to the bank in order to save Love Bakes.” Maybe I could find someone who would marry me tonight so I could access my trust fund. I’d happily give it all to Jack if it would help him save his family bakery.
“Nah. I wouldn’t accept it. I appreciate your offer, though.”
My brows rose. “And Megan?” She was a competitor he’d met and kissed.
He rubbed his palms up and down his face. “She’s amazing.”
I shot him a quizzical look. “Why did you say that like it’s a bad thing?”
“I can’t handle a relationship with her.”
Why? Because something had happened between them? I tilted my head. “And what exactly does that mean?”
Jack shifted, lying flat on my couch. “Every woman in my life has left me. She will, too. I just helped things along.”
He had to be kidding me. Jack had pushed her away because of something that could happen? That was ridiculous. I smacked my ankle. “That’s an awful excuse, and you know it. I’m going to let it slide for now because of what you’re going through, but eventually, we will talk about her. Understand?”
Jack rolled his head to the side, meeting my glare. “Fine,” he mumbled.
It was one thing for Jack to be grumpy and not like being around people. It was a whole other issue if he wasn’t even willing to try to have a relationship with someone who clearly was interested in him. “What’s your plan regarding work?” I asked, curious if he’d had time to think about his next steps.
He paused before answering in a joke that fell flat. “Need a pastry chef?”
I wished. But Starla was one of the few employees who consistently did a good job. “You know I’d hire you in a heartbeat if I did.”
Tears pooled in his eyes. Seeing my stoic, super non-emotional friend tear up just about did me in. I rubbed my nose, praying the stinging that always meant I was about to cry cleared.
“Yeah, I know. Anyway”—Jack cleared his throat—“I need to get some boxes for the move and call Jessica and Gimena to let them know I don’t need them anymore.”
I did not envy him when it came to telling his employees they no longer had a job because of Mark. I dreaded letting Josh and Darby go, and we had legitimate reasons for firing them. “We have some boxes at the restaurant. I’ll bring them over.”
Jack snapped his fingers, getting Bear to move. “Thanks for all your help with Bear. I’ll see you soon.”
After everything he’d just told me, taking care of Bear and helping him pack up were nothing compared to everything Jack had going on in his life. Jack would hate what I was about to do, but I couldn’t let my best friend leave without knowing he had someone in his corner who would always have his back. I pulled Jack into a hug, pounding his back a few times. “I’m here whenever you need me.”
He nodded. “I know.”
Jack and Bear left, and the moment the door closed, any hold I had on my depression slipped. I couldn’t keep it together anymore. My heart was shattered on behalf of my best friend. The look of pain and anguish on Jack’s face tore at me. I would happily trade him places. Let me lose something instead of Jack, who had lost so much in life already.
Darkness settled within me like a blanket of fog over San Francisco. Life was too much. Taking that one step, focusing on the positive, seemed impossible. My brain fought for practicality and lost to the sense of overwhelm. All I wanted was to sleep. To escape the pain, frustration, anger, disappointment, and stress.
I called Holly and then Jessica, letting them know I was sick and wouldn’t be in tonight. I hadn’t done that in years. Really, it wasn’t a good idea, as I had no assistant manager at the moment and Saturdays were usually our busiest night, but I couldn’t function. Not after this devastating loss. Not without Bear there to force me to get up and move.
I drew the blinds and closed the curtains, turned off all the lights in my house, took some sleeping medicine, and waited to zonk out from the pain left behind from Pops, Lexi, and now Jack.
Tomorrow would be better. It had to be.