Bittersweet: An Equilibrium Novella Read online

  Jules laughed. “For a second, I thought you were about to tell her you were her afternoon delight, and I was like, “oop, let me get my coat and get out of here.”

  “I mean, I could be that too, but your cousin doesn’t like me,” he answered, and finally, I turned around again.

  “You’re not my afternoon anything except a damn headache,” I told Royal, then narrowed my eyes at Jules. “Don’t you have other things to do today?”

  Jules smirked. “As a matter of fact, I do have a shoot to set up for, so I’m headed out. Catch ya later. Bye, Royal!” she called, pulling her coat back on as she moved toward the door.

  With Jules gone, Royal turned to me, wearing his usual annoying hint of a smile. “So… what’s on today’s agenda?”

  “You not getting on my nerves is number one.”

  He laughed. “Come on, A-nik-a. Don’t set me up for failure.”

  “Can you stop saying my name like that?”

  “Like what?” he asked, faux innocence dripping from his tone. Instead of a verbal response, I simply glared at him until his face broke into a potently dimpled smile. “Aiight, fine. I’ll stop messing with you – just tell me how you’d prefer me to say it.”

  “The right way.”

  He nodded. “Got it. So like… Anika…?” he leaned toward me and said, in this low, sultry sort of growl that hit me right between the legs.

  Immediately, I looked away from him, shaking my head as I gathered up the box of ornaments. “Whatever, Royal.”

  “Hold up, did I do something wrong?” he asked, quickly catching up to me and removing the box from my hands. “You don’t want me to say it like that either?!”

  “No,” I hissed, turning on him once we were in the back hallway leading to the office. “I don’t want to hear you saying my name like you’re… like we’re…”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Like we’re… what?”

  “You know exactly what,” I countered, crossing my arms. “And I don’t understand why you keep messing with me like this!”

  “Because it’s so goddamn easy, Anika,” he said – the fact that he was finally giving a normal inflection to my name overshadowed by infuriating words. “You have a problem with me, for whatever reason. You’re going to find fault in whatever I do, so I may as well have fun with it.”

  With a smirk, he held out the box of ornaments, and I took it.

  “It’s so unsurprising that you don’t know exactly why I have an issue with you,” I said, tucking the box under my arm.

  Royal chuckled, stepping toward me with a little tilt to his head as he looked me right in the eyes.

  “Do you know why you have an issue with me?”

  I opened my mouth to respond, but none came, even though five minutes before, I could have easily aired a whole list of grievances against him. To my dismay, my silence only amused him, and that damn smirk grew into a full-blown smile again.

  “The decorations look good, A-nik-a,” he called as he turned to head in the opposite direction down the hall. “The brand is strong!”

  It wasn’t until he was out of sight that my voice seemed to come back, just enough for me to let out a growl of the absolute deepest annoyance.

  Because.

  I…

  Ugh.

  What, actually, was my problem with Royal?

  Well… he was arrogant, and… fine. Annoying, and… fine. Charming and… fine.

  Wow.

  If I didn’t know better, I’d think my real issue with him was that he was fine as hell to go with all that arrogance and charm, which was why he was so annoying to me. Typically, a man like Royal would be… catnip. Only, instead of giving in to my kitty’s urge to let him make me purr, I was reacting with my claws out, because he was catnip.

  Poison.

  Not shit, just like the rest of his handsome peers.

  But I was holding firm to my decision to not deal with the bullshit anymore. As hard as it had been, I couldn’t waver.

  I couldn’t be weak.

  I had to hate Royal.

  Because if I didn’t… I might mess around and do the opposite.

  Three

  Royal

  “Whoa, cuz! Something on fire?” I asked Roman as he rushed into the office, scrambling to gather things.

  At the sound of my voice, he stopped moving, pure exasperation all over his face. “Man… RJ ate some damn slime from Zaria’s science kit, now he’s complaining about his stomach, and the two of them are fighting. Baby India toddling around yelling at everybody and getting into shit, it’s just… it’s hectic.”

  “And Monie needs you there,” I filled in the rest for him as his cell phone chimed with what I assumed was a text from the way it grabbed his attention on the screen.

  Absently he looked up, then gave me a nod. “Yeah. So… I need you to take care of the shop.”

  “I’m supposed to be doing that anyway,” I reminded him, nodding toward the scheduling board on the wall. There was a digital version too, that all the employees could simply check from home, but the old school dry-erase was a quick reference that helped illustrate my point now. My name was up there, Royal – two to closing (twelve). A weekday closing shift – ten hours, just like what Anika had already put in that morning.

  And then… Roman showed up.

  Not that I didn’t appreciate the backup, because there had been a couple of times I needed an assist, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t have simply shot off a text about. The fact that he’d showed up unbidden was… honestly a little frustrating.

  Did he believe I could do this shit or not?

  His phone chimed again, and whatever he saw there made his shoulders sink in relief. “I hit up Anika,” he explained, holding it up. “She’s going to come through in an hour or so to finish the supply order for me, and help with closing, just since you’ve never done it yourself before.”

  “But I’ve watched you, her, or Mila do it a million times,” I argued. “I could do it in my sleep.”

  Roman grinned, but shook his head. “So you think. Just consider her backup – there if you need her, but it’s fine if you don’t. And besides… I figured you’d jump at the chance to be around Nik again, as much as you enjoy getting under her skin.”

  Yeah, of course, getting to be around Anika’s fine ass was a definite on-the-job perk, but it was beside the point. Contrary to popular – at least for Anika – belief, I did actually give a shit about this job and wanted to do well.

  Already, more than a year had passed since I approached Roman after my corporate burnout, floating the idea of becoming one of his franchisees. Nepotism wasn’t going to be on my side in this endeavor, not with what my older cousin knew about me – in fact, the familial relation seemed to be bringing extra scrutiny down on my head.

  I was good with that though.

  I wanted to prove myself.

  How was I supposed to do it though, when every step along the way had somebody holding my damn hand?

  “I may have pushed Anika just slightly too far earlier today,” I admitted, standing from my seat at the smaller desk, where I’d been poring over past inventory numbers, working to understand how to the figures related to certain times of the year, local events, holidays, whatever.

  Roman chuckled as he grabbed his coat from the hook near the door. “Don’t end up getting stabbed – I can’t have her in jail over you.”

  “Damn, so she gets priority in that scenario?” I laughed, shaking my head. “She’s good at her job, but I’m family.”

  He shrugged. “She’s part of this family,” he countered, gesturing around us at the shop. “Listen, Royal… I’ve been watching the interaction between the two of you since you got here. Whatever is going on between y’all, I’m not going to interfere. Y’all are grown, and I’ve got too many damn kids to be getting in your business. But I will say – don’t fuck that up. Yeah, you’re my cousin – my damn little brother, may as well be. But Nik is like a little sister. An
d if it comes down to having to eliminate one of you around here…”

  “She’s got the seniority,” I nodded. “She’s helped build the brand. I know, Roman.”

  “Aiight then – act like it. You know… nobody wants to see you succeed more than I do,” he said, his expression shifting with the line of conversation. “You’ve taken some hard knocks, but you can do this – step by step. I know the process has been slow, but… it’s a major undertaking. There are only a few Urban Grinds in the world for a reason. You wanna be a surrogate for one of these babies? You’ve gotta be ready.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “That… is an interesting metaphor, but I’ma let you rock,” I laughed, trying to break through some of the seriousness of the moment. My heart had already picked up its’ pace, and I was struggling to not show any outward signs of my shift in breathing.

  I wasn’t sure if he really thought I needed to hear this or not – if he thought I needed this pressure.

  Either way, I needed a step back from this conversation.

  “You know what I mean, bruh,” Roman chuckled, extending his fist to tap mine before he finally headed out the door to go be with his family.

  Once he was gone, I took a moment to myself. Some slow, deep breaths to get my heart rate back in order, and get my mind right.

  Yes, this manager training process had been long, and no, proving myself in this area wouldn’t be easy. Which was fine – I preferred it not to be.

  I liked a challenge.

  Anika Elliot doesn’t mess with anybody anymore.

  That was pretty much the first piece of intel I’d gathered about my fine ass trainer, the first week Roman finally brought me to learn how to manage an Urban Grind. One of the baristas told me that, after some light prodding to try to figure Anika out.

  I wasn’t used to women being immune to my charm.

  And really, it wasn’t that she was immune – more like… annoyed that I had the audacity to even be in her presence. She was professional, sure, but that could only cover so much deeply rooted disdain, which had started the moment I walked through the door.

  I concluded that I must’ve reminded her of an ex or something. It would explain why she disliked me from jump, and also why she didn’t mess with anybody anymore. The girl had a broken heart, was grieving a relationship, was just mad at niggas in general… something.

  But… the longer I stuck around, the more I realized it was – and wasn’t – just me.

  She didn’t mess with anybody anymore – I saw her shoot men down regularly, and never caught even the hint of a rumor she was seeing somebody.

  Also, though… she just didn’t like me.

  So much that it was comical.

  I sure as hell wanted her though.

  Especially when she showed up looking as good as she did about an hour after Roman left the reins in my hands. I was out on the floor, so I must’ve missed her initial entry, cause when I saw her, she’d already taken her coat and other cold weather gear off, revealing a deep forest green sweater dress that clung to her hips and ass like… goddamn.

  Anika was banging.

  The super-short, tapered natural style she wore her hair in put all the focus on her pretty ass face. Her full lips were painted a deep red that popped against her brown-sugar-cinnamon complexion, making me think of shit I really, really probably shouldn’t, but… goddamn.

  “I see you’ve managed not to burn the place down,” she said when I approached where she was standing at the counter, talking to Tory – another of the baristas. Tory smirked, then moved on to help a customer while I made myself comfortable in Anika’s personal space.

  “I know you think I’ve spent the last year playing around, but… I may have picked up a thing or two.”

  “Good. The sooner Roman is satisfied with your performance, the sooner you can go back to… wherever it is you came from,” Anika quipped.

  I scoffed. “Please. You’re acting like you’ll be glad to see me go, but once I do, who else will you take all your aggression out on?” I asked her. “I’ve been a nice little outlet for you – somebody for you to focus all your negative attention on. When I’m gone, though… whatcha gone do, A-nik-a?”

  “I’m going to raise a toast,” she replied, dryly, but I could tell my question had her thinking. She wouldn’t meet my gaze, shifting to flag Tory down again. “What was that drink you were telling me about that you wanted to submit?”

  Tory’s eyes lit with excitement. “You wanna try it? I know you don’t really drink anymore…”

  “Just don’t knock me on my ass then,” Anika laughed – a sound I heard often with others, but rarely got treated to myself. “You mentioned the Kimble cinnamon peach, right?”

  “Yuppp,” Tory nodded. “One Spiked Peach Cobbler, coming up!”

  As Tory walked away, I turned back to Anika with a raised eyebrow. “What you know about Kimble Bourbon?” I asked her, surprised. I’d definitely caught the implication in that “anymore” with regard to Anika’s alcohol consumption, but even with that, I wouldn’t have pegged her as the type to really be into the different brands and all.

  “I know as much about liquor as I do about coffee, which is a lot,” she told me, her tone matter-of-fact. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

  I shrugged. “It’s just… not really something I’ve known most women to be into.”

  “Wow, with the sexism,” she rolled her eyes. “You’re just a bundle of fun, aren’t you?”

  In my peripheral, I saw Tory put a cup down on the counter and then move back to the wall to start preparing another drink as the orders picked up for last call.

  “I’m not being—”

  “Tell it to somebody who cares,” Anika interrupted, grabbing the cup from the counter. “I’ll be in the office finishing the inventory. Come get me if you need me.”

  She slipped easily through the growing crowd at the bar before I could even say anything, without looking back. I pushed out a sigh and turned back to the bar, just as Tory walked up to where I was.

  “Nik change her mind about the drink?” she asked, holding up a different cup.

  I shook my head. “Nah, she took one – the one you put down on the counter.”

  “No,” Tory groaned. “That was his,” she said, pointing to a guy standing just behind where Nik had been – he was distracted, talking to another patron. “This one is hers. That one does have the peach bourbon in it too, but it damn sure isn’t the recipe I wanted her to try. This,” she pointed to the cup in her hand, “is for quiet sipping with a good book. What she took is for… hell, pre-gaming.”

  I chuckled. “Damn. Well, I’m sure she’ll be back when she realizes the difference.”

  “Can you just take this to her?” Tory insisted, handing me the cup. “I gotta remake his drink, and take some orders.”

  I knew she needed to move on, so I took the cup, but I really wasn’t trying to bother Anika when I knew she was involved in real work. Still… this seemed important to Tory, so I headed toward the back, getting stopped every few steps for small talk from customers or questions from servers, grabbing more supplies for the baristas, whatever. I ended up getting caught up for much longer than anticipated, but it wasn’t like I could exactly brush any of these people off.

  I was doing the job.

  There was no way that coffee was still hot by the time I actually made it to the office, but I was taking it anyway. I was lowkey with my entry into the office, knowing Anika was working.

  Well… assuming.

  What I actually found was Anika at the desk with that mug she’d taken from the bar tilted all the way back, draining every last drop she could get, and the computer screen… not even on.

  “Ay – you’ve gotta get Tory to make you one of those,” Anika gushed, tossing the empty mug onto the desk with a loud clatter. “That was bomb. Is that what’s in your hand? You’re about to have one too?”

  My eyes went wide, eyebrows up, trying to figure out if I
was in slow-motion, or she was in fast forward, as quickly as those words came spilling from her lips.

  “Uh… nah, actually – this is what you were supposed to have. You picked up the wrong cup.”

  Anika giggled. “Oh. Well. Whatever that was, we should sell it,” she declared, hopping up from her seat at the desk. “I’m gonna go tell Tory.”

  “Hold up though,” I said, raising a hand. “What about the inventory?”

  “Oh, I finished that like twenty minutes ago, and I’m not even tired. I feel great. I think I’m gonna go dance. We should dance!”

  Holy shit.

  Before I knew it, Anika was brushing past me in the doorway, headed back out front, toward the music. I followed her, trying to catch up without spilling the damn coffee, but she was already in the crowd by the time I made it out front.

  When I spotted her, she was with Greer and Brittany, getting her whole entire life to Vanity’s “Michelle Obama.” Now, I’d definitely seen Anika during downtime – she chilled, danced, hung out just like the rest of us did.

  But I’d never seen “rap along to raunchy ass lyrics and dance moves to match” Anika, so this was… something else. She was sexy before, but damn.

  Moving to the bar, I finally got rid of the old coffee I’d been carting around and flagged Tory down as she and the other baristas were finishing up their nightly cleanup.

  “Ay – what exactly was in that drink she took?” I asked, pointing her toward where Anika was now channeling Vanity with a level of twerking skill I honestly would’ve never guessed about her.

  Tory laughed. “Go ‘head boss lady!” she screamed across the bar, but of course, Anika was too immersed in what she was doing to hear her. “What?” Tory asked, shrugging at what must’ve been some level of disapproval on my face – Anika was obviously lit, and didn’t need any encouragement. “Nik has been on level ten stick up the ass for like… months now. She needs to blow off some steam!”

  “I got no problem with that, it’s just… I’ve never seen this side of her, and I’m wondering how she’s going to feel about it tomorrow,” I explained. She was obstinate enough on a regular day – I didn’t want to see her with the added layer of potential embarrassment.