You Had Me at Merlot [ Chaennie ]

Chapter 14: Do Not Freak Out

Uh-oh. Something was off.

Jennie blinked and looked around the room, distinctly aware of a warm presence at her side, but she couldn't quite make sense of anything through the hazy alarm bells sounding. The deep sleep she'd just been pulled from hung on like a cloud, impeding her brain from properly processing. As she searched for orientation, the warm presence moved, and a hand was placed on the small of Jennie's back. That did it. The night before rushed back to her like a movie on fast forward. The party, the cocktail dress, the prosecco, the kissing, the mind-altering sex. Roseanne. Sigh. They'd had sex. She'd had sex with Roseanne Park, which was not wise or okay with the sober version of herself. What now?

She turned and saw a beautiful woman gazing up at her sleepily. Do not give in to this. A small smile played on Roseanne's lips. Before Jennie could speak, Roseanne held up a finger. "Don't freak out. Everything is okay."

"It is?" Jennie asked, but even she could hear the shaky voice behind the word. "No. I mean, it is. It's fine." She didn't have to disclose that inside her brain, by the light of day, she was experiencing a full-on freak-out. It was surely apparent.

Roseanne sat up, bringing the bedsheet with her. "This doesn't have to mean anything if you don't want it to."

"Of course not," Jennie said. "We had a night. People have nights. Adults do all the time." A really, really good night, she was realizing, flashing back to how well they'd brought each other to the edge. The heat level they'd achieved without trying. No awkward fumbling or relearning their way around each other. They were an anomaly. Special. But hadn't she already known that?

"So, you're okay? Because your fists are clenched and your eyebrows are pulled low."

"Who? Me?" She immediately relaxed her hands and bounced her brows. "I think I'm just absorbing. Right? You probably are, too. This was unexpected."

"It most certainly was." Roseanne nodded. "But I don't have any regrets."

"Good," Jennie said, scurrying to make this moment feel as relaxed as possible when she was anything but. "No one wants regrets, right?" The early morning sunlight slanted in through the window and highlighted the brown in Roseanne's eyes. She was certainly extra pretty in the morning, even with rumpled hair. Jennie nervously checked the clock. "I do need to get to the coffee bar. Luckily, I didn't have to open. Planned it that way on purpose." A pause. She played that back. "Not because of this. I could never have guessed that we'd...The charity event. Was the reason for the scheduling. Because I knew I'd be out later than my usual."

"Say no more. Let's get you on your way." Roseanne scanned the room. "I will get out of your hair, but I'd rather not wear a cocktail dress home. Do you happen to—"

"I have clothes. Of course. I'll just—" Jennie walked quickly to the white terry cloth robe on the back of her door, covering herself in a move that felt silly given all they'd done just hours ago. Somehow, by the light of day, things felt different. She did, and she didn't want to share any more of herself with Roseanne.

"Thank you. I know you're in a hurry, but can I just say that I had a really nice time last night."

Jennie forced herself to slow down and calm her racing thoughts, because she had, too. It wasn't Roseanne's fault that she'd made a self-indulgent and reckless decision last night. "Sorry. I didn't mean to gloss over what happened. I, um"—she circled a strand of hair behind her ear—"had fun." A slow exhale. "I'm just wondering if it was wise. It's the wisdom factor that's tapping on my shoulder. Because there's not a future here, because I don't think I can get past what happened, and—"

"Ah. Okay. I understand." Roseanne nodded but seemed to deflate. "Well. We can just put things between us back as they were. Business partners."

"And friends," Jennie said sincerely. She came and sat on the edge of her bed. Something in her had shifted, and she'd love for that to be a goal. Roseanne was a factor in her life now, and it was time to stop running from the past. "I'd like to try for that."

"Good. Because that makes two of us."

For a moment, the morning slowed down. They held eye contact in the small space they occupied in the world, complicated and laced with regret about what could have been. "Once upon a time, right?" She heard the wistful quality in her voice.

Roseanne nodded, a conservative smile appearing. "Right. Once upon a time."

Jennie glanced behind her toward the closet off the bathroom. "I'll get you some clothes. And there's coffee in the kitchen. On a timer."

"That's okay. I'll grab some on the way home."

Their good-bye was friendly, but shrouded in words unsaid. For the best. The rest of the day was uneventful by comparison. But honestly, anything would be after that caliber of night. It was a weekend, which meant the regulars were off duty, and a new band of Saturday customers sat in their chairs instead, like understudies in a play. Saturdays tended to be lower key. Customers were more laid back, interested in making small talk for longer periods of time. The day always felt a little longer but lazy at the same time.

"Have you ever done something that you wish you could undo?"

Jennie blinked at the young woman in front of her register. Nose ring, jet-black hair, insistent stare. "Who sent you?" Jennie asked suspiciously.

"My brother. He wants an iced coffee and said he'd buy mine if I did the run."

"Right. Never mind then. You're merely an innocent."

"Sorry I blurted that question. I just had one hell of a twenty-four hours, and I'm dying like roadkill."

Jennie leaned in. "Me, too. An ex?"

"No, I bought an iguana and my apartment is a matchbox. His aquarium takes up half of it. And I can't, like, give him back now. He thinks he's home." Her brown eyes went wide. "But I never should have done this. Like, ever."

"Right." Jennie straightened. "I think it's going to be okay. You have a nice roommate now. Next year, you'll wonder what you ever did without..."

"Fernando."

"Great name."

"Thanks. My brother doesn't think so."

"Screw him. Tell you what." Jennie placed a hand on her hip. "Since we're both struggling with our poor decisions, your two coffees are on the house."

"Oh no." The girl gasped. "Did you buy one, too? The pet fair in the West Village, right? They're so fucking persuasive."

"No. But there is a kind of parallel."

"Score. I'll take two larges, then."

Leo, who was weekend subbing for Bart, who had his sister's dance recital that morning, filled the order with a question mark practically painted on his handsome face. When the girl left with coffees in hand, he turned to her. "What'd ya do?" he asked in an even voice. It was his gift, acting like he didn't care much to get people to feel like the stakes were low. She was on to him.

"Nothing important."

"Know you pretty well." He sat on the back counter and regarded her thoughtfully with folded arms, a scientist deciding if his chemicals were mixing correctly. "Can't remember seeing you so jittery on a Saturday morning."

"Stop assessing."

"Fine." He turned around casually and went to work restocking the sugar dusters.

"I do have news, though. We got the awesome storefront in Hell's Kitchen I was telling you about. I want you to come over there with me some afternoon and make sure my light renovation plans will provide the function we're used to. See if I'm missing anything."

"That's awesome. You got it." He flipped back around. Jennie felt like things were unfinished. Clarissa would have dragged it out of her. Why were men so easy to move on from a conversation?

"It was Roseanne Park," she whispered. She did still have a bar with several customers nearby. Two in the midst of a very rowdy chess game in the lounge area.

He turned around, victorious grin on his face. "You get it, boss? Last night?"

She nodded. "Apparently, I lost my logic. I get dressed up, fed a little wine, and I go back on the most important promise I've made to myself."

He bagged an order of doughnuts and placed them in the warmer. "But how'd it go? You have fun?"

"Yes, it was mind-blowing and awesome, but there are larger complications. She's my business partner and a damned liar. She's not someone I want my heart mixed up with."

"Enjoy it for what it was, at least. A nice way to end your Friday."

"Don't let me off the hook."

He shrugged. "Life is here to live, Jen. You can't police yourself into playing it so safe you suffocate. We all screw up. We move forward. You will, too."

"It sounds good in theory. Feels a little terrifying when the aftermath is literally upon you."

"Like she was." He offered a steady wink and went back to the sugars.

"You're lucky we don't have an HR department."

"I'm also lucky I don't have an iguana from the West Village."

"Aren't we all, though?"

"Besides, I wasn't talking to Jennie my boss, I was talking to my friend."

For some reason, every time she realized she had one of those, she went warm and grateful. It's not that she'd been unpopular as a kid or dealt with any kind of true trauma, but sometimes she had to remind herself that people she respected could and did genuinely care for her. Why do I assume it's a one-way street? She impulsively hugged Leo's bicep and didn't let go.

"What's that for? You're mauling me."

"For, I don't know, life and stuff."

He freed his arm and wrapped it around her. "Well. Life and stuff to you, too. It's gonna be okay. Promise. Just ride that wave and don't look back."

She popped her chin up and regarded him. "Do you surf?"

"Course I surf." She should have known. There was nothing Leo couldn't do. "Now get out of here. We got this under control. It's close to wine time."

"Wine o'clock in fifteen," she said to the dining room. "We're about to try hard for sophistication. Get ready."

Before heading home, Jennie sat with a glass by the window and watched the sun touch the tops of the buildings, her favorite moment of each afternoon. The peaceful winding down of the day helped her harness her thoughts and rein in her worries. She and Roseanne had stepped out of bounds, and as two consenting adults, that was okay. They'd regroup and refocus on the business and all they had in front of them. And maybe, just maybe, they'd find a way to build upon that friendship they'd discussed. Jennie was working on letting go of the past, and believing that people truly could change. Roseanne wasn't a bad person, she decided, sipping her merlot. She just couldn't be Jennie's person. So, maybe that meant Jennie didn't have to fight the draw, but instead, channel it. She could do that. In fact, she wanted to. "A new friend," she murmured to herself. She caught the breathtaking last sliver of the pink and orange sunset. There was a parallel there. A new shop. A new partner. A new version of her and Roseanne. The ending of one thing and the beginning of another. Poetic and perfect.

Jennie decided not to be afraid of what was ahead.

She sipped her wine and exhaled.