Say Hello, Kiss Goodbye - Jacquelyn Middleton Page 0,11
Sarah steered her chair away from the recycling bin crowded with bottles. “I’ll get Jordan to take that out. I think he felt a little weird drinking in front of Dad last night.”
“But you told him it was okay, right?” asked Leia. “Just because we didn’t…” For years, the Scott sisters had watched Eddie’s struggle with alcoholism brought on by the depression that descended when an injury prematurely ended his NHL career at age twenty-nine. But last week on Christmas Day, Eddie had marked a hard-fought milestone—five years of sobriety. “Dad was fine with Jordan drinking”—Leia ignored the click of the flat’s front door lock—“and he said as much.”
“I know, but it’s confusing if you’ve never been around a recovering alcoholic,” said Sarah. “Jordan really wants Dad to like him.”
“Like who?” Stumbling into the conversation, Jordan Zheng swiped perspiration from his brow and yanked down the zipper on his damp hoodie, exposing a drenched Nirvana t-shirt glued to his toned chest. He waved his hands in front of his face in an attempt to cool down but gave up, his fingers flying into his short dark hair.
“You, you sweat monster!” Sarah did a double take, a giggle leaving her lips. Jordan usually showed up at her flat immaculately dressed in a suit with nary a hair out of place, his job as a sales coordinator at London’s most esteemed auction house to blame. Daily dealings with millionaires and billionaires meant business casual and ‘dress down’ Fridays were as foreign to him as running with his girlfriend’s father.
He wiped his palms on his black Toronto Raptors shorts (a Christmas gift from Sarah) and clutched her hand. “Hey, I jogged with your dad and faked my way through a hockey conversation,” he croaked, his Liverpool accent still raspy from a recent bout of tonsillitis. “Man, the things I do for love.” Stooping slowly, his hangover-inspired wince gave way as he met Sarah’s lips.
Aw, they’re cute together. Averting her eyes, Leia picked up her pen, tapping it on the paper. Almost a year in—so far, so good. Heaven help him if he turns out like the others. He’ll have me to answer to.
“Your dad—my god, he’s a machine!” said Jordan. “I could barely keep up. How old is he, anyway?”
“Fifty-three.” Leia chewed the end of her pen. “Where is he?”
“Popped to the corner shop.” Jordan tugged at his soaked t-shirt. “Is it okay if I have a shower?”
“Yep,” said Sarah. “If you’re quick, you’ll be out in time for brunch.”
“If I’m quick, I can help.” Grinning, he took off and disappeared into Sarah’s bedroom.
Pen in hand, Leia stretched toward the ceiling, letting out a groan. “Is the pool on Caledonian Road open today?”
“Not sure. Check their website.” Sarah toyed with the KD box on her lap, the dry macaroni rattling with each shift of her hand. “So…last night, you and—”
“Yeah, about that…nice try, Saz.” Leia returned to her journal. “Obvious, much? There’s no way in hell your friend is getting my number.”
“But you love British accents! And he really likes you!” Sarah worked for a small consultancy agency that provided accessibility guidance to London companies. Her coworker, Leia’s latest fan, was one of seven colleagues who rang in the new year chez Ms. Scott. He was also one of Sarah’s references for the promotion she was chasing. “You’ve got tons in common. He loves lip sync battles, hates science fiction. Oh, did he tell you he loves to skate? And swim? No wonder he’s so fit.”
“He’s divorced with two kids under five.”
“So? You’re divorced and you love kids—” The sentence stuck in Sarah’s throat. “Aw, sorry.” She squeezed her eyes shut.
Leia’s stomach pinched. End this now. “How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not dating. Not now, not ever.” She abandoned her journal and glared at her sister. “Your friend could be what’s-his-face from Poldark and I still wouldn’t date him.”
“Now that’s just messed up, saying no to Aidan Turner.”
Leia slumped into a sigh.
“I’m joking!” Sarah rubbed Leia’s arm. “I worry about you, Ley. You’re so far away in New York—alone—while fuckface Tyler sleeps his way around the city. It’s not right. I wish you’d stay here.”
“And, what? Finding me a British boyfriend would make that happen?”
“Why not? A charming Brit—London’s got tons. Take your pick!”
Like I care. Leia stared at her journal and tapped her pen on the page, refusing to respond.
Frustration creasing her brow, Sarah withdrew her hand. “You’re doing it again.”