Page 19 of Work and Play
And why is my hair stuck to my face?
Two questions I haven’t had to ask myself in a very long time. I slowly blink my eyes open with a groan when the pounding in my head registers with my fuzzy brain. My mouth is as dry as the Sahara, and the light streaming in through my open drapes is making me angry.
Note to self, I no longer have the tolerance for tequila that I used to have. Memories of last night come back to me. It was fun hanging out with everyone. They’re a great group. And it was good to learn who’s who. Summer apparently grew up here, but moved away for a long time. Now she’s back and running a beachfront resort. Oh, and she’s engaged to Mila’s brother Ethan, who’s the mayor of the whole darn town. Mila’s boyfriend Jackson is a newcomer like me, he’s the local veterinarian and they bonded over Mila’s dog Milo. Not going to lie, when she told me her dog’s name, I stared at her blankly for a moment until she laughed and said she knew how ridiculous it sounded, but she loved it. Abby and Reid showed up after me; he’s the school principal and she’s the mother of one of his students. Their relationship is pretty new, apparently, but they seem sweet together. The only other person I didn’t know was Paige. She’s quiet, serious, but really interesting to talk to. And I promised her I’d come to check out her book store, Pages, soon.
When Serena ordered tequila shots, I tried to say no, but she was frustrated with one of her dance moms and insisted we drink. The problem was, with every shot, we had to say something that pissed us off. I’m pretty sure I mentioned Tyson sticking his dick where it didn’t belong on shot number two, which then led to even more drinking.
I vaguely remember teasing Finn about being my chariot, when in reality I should be grateful he made sure I got back here safely. Surprising, seeing as he’s made it very clear that he’s been trying to avoid me this past week. But then again, maybe not. Mila said he’s a good guy, and when he doesn’t know I’m looking, I watch how he interacts with other people. He’s polite, friendly, funny even. Not the distant, cool professional he is around me.
I make my way to sit up, and it’s then I realize there’s a blanket on top of me. That wouldn’t be weird, except it’s a blanket I never use, a quilt my grandmother made for me. Huh. Okay, guess drunk Ashley grabbed that one for some reason. Turning my head slowly so that I don’t make the headache any worse, I reach for the glass of water that’s usually on my bedside table, only to see another surprise. A bottle of orange juice and a bottle of Tylenol are sitting there.
Finn.
More memories come back. Of him opening my door, helping me into the car, catching me when I stumbled. He was kind, sweet even. And now, seeing how he took care of me with the blanket and the juice and everything, well, let’s just say he’s making it pretty difficult to remember he wants nothing to do with me outside of work.
All I’ve got to do today is drive to the nearby city of Westport to pick up some things for the tasting room, so after I pop a couple of Tylenol and drink the bottle of juice, I take off my bra and jeans. That’s as much as I can be bothered with right now. I drink some water and settle back down under the covers of my bed. In that half awake, half asleep state, I drowse, letting my mind empty and settle. Some time later, I hear the sound of a door opening and closing, and quiet footsteps down the hall that stop outside my door. Freezing, I wait to see what Finn will do. Obviously, my bedroom door isn’t locked, since he clearly was in here after I passed out last night to play hangover fairy. After a second of silence, the footsteps continue and I hear the outer door open and close.
Grabbing the pillow beside me, I cover my face and let out a muffled scream.
That man is beyond frustrating.
Eventually, I drag my sorry butt out of bed, and head to the bathroom. Turning the shower on as hot as I can handle, I run a brush through my tangled hair before twisting it up into a knot on the top of my head. I don’t have the energy to wash it right now. Stepping into the steaming spray, I let the warmth of the water soothe my ridiculous hangover. I’m too old for this crap.
Who knows how long later, I reluctantly step out of the shower and dry off, then head back to my bedroom to get dressed. Fleetingly, I wonder if Finn came home and if I’ll run into him with nothing more than a towel wrapped around my body, a little reflection on our last nearly naked interaction, but no such luck. Part of me wants the opportunity to tease him like that, the other part can’t help but be a little nervous of rejection, given the way he acts around me. Or, should I say the way he has been acting around me. Maybe things are changing now.
Or maybe he was just being nice to a drunk idiot. Yeah, that’s more likely.
Once I’m dressed, I decide against walking to my car. It’s too damn cold out there. Thankfully, Dogwood Cove has a couple of Uber drivers, and pretty soon one of them picks me up and drops me off at Hastings. I scrape off the frost that built up on the windshield and get in. Rubbing my hands together against the chill, I wait for the engine to warm up a bit before driving away. First stop, The Nutty Muffin. Mila’s got me addicted to her baking, and I might grab a sandwich from the café side to have later for lunch.
My car is just starting to warm up by the time I reach the bakery. I head inside quickly, eager for that first sip of hot coffee to warm me up from the inside. I don’t see Mila, but she’s probably in the back. A quick scan of the tables doesn’t reveal anyone else I recognize, but a couple friendly faces smile, and I smile back.
The line moves quickly, thanks to Mila’s efficient staff, and when it’s my turn, I order my coffee, muffin, and a sandwich. They let me pay for it all at once, and as soon as I’ve got my coffee and muffin, I wander through the opened up wall to the café side. The vibe here is different, although the walls are the same warm colour to show the continuity from bakery to café. The café has more tables and less oversized comfy chairs. And the lighting is slightly darker, with more exposed beams and a rustic vibe instead of the cozy bakery next door. They flow well, and once again I’m impressed by Mila’s talent at designing the spaces herself.
“Hi, welcome to Camille’s. Are you Ashley?” The peppy girl behind the counter greets me with a warm smile.
“Yep, that’s me.”
She hands me a paper bag. “There you go, one turkey and veggie wrap. Enjoy!”
I give her a smile of thanks and turn to go.
“Ashley!”
At Mila’s voice, I turn back around to see her walking out from the back kitchen.
“Sorry. Didn’t know you were here until I heard Leanne say your name.” Mila walks over and gives me a swift hug. “Please tell me you’re hurting today, so I don’t feel like the only lame one.”
The grimace on my face answers her question.
“Oh, thank God.”
“Yeah, no offense to Serena, but that’s the last time I do tequila shots with her.”
Mila laughs and shakes her head. “She’s something else. Won’t drink caffeine but mainlines sugar like a champ and can handle booze better than any of us.”
I look at her, aghast at what she just said. “She doesn’t drink caffeine? How does she survive?”
“I know, I know. It’s insane.” Mila shakes her head. “Caffeine is life.”
