I Hate You, Love Me: An Enemies to Lovers Romance Collection Read online

  “Ummmm, yes,” I reply. “It was quite something.”

  Amanda goes to the fridge and pulls out a carton of milk.

  “I have to have my coffee hot and steamy and frothy,” she explains.

  I wait for her to finish using the machine and making her latte. While she’s rinsing off the rubber cap from the steamer, I find an opening. Rather than tell her the full details of the events this morning, I know I must make a case for Devon being one person too many in the current household living arrangement.

  “Amanda, I’m not sure having Devon here is such a good thing,” I say. “It kind of feels disruptive. And I’m not sure how Alice feels about him. She seems a little frightened by his energy and condition.”

  She looks up at me with a little bit of concern, but not the kind for my feelings, or Alice’s, although that was sort of a lie, more so for how this affects the dynamics of the situation. She clearly doesn’t want to be bothered with this.

  “Look Cassie, Devon is Charles’s best friend and there is no way he is going to throw him out there into the wild until his head is in a better place,” she states. “I mean, I don’t exactly love the situation but, it is what it is. Just like the situation with you. Could you possibly have a little more sympathy for him?”

  I pause to think about my response. I decide to go on the attack.

  “Well, it’s either him or me,” I say. “I can’t stay here with him in the next room. He has to go.”

  “Wait, what?” Amanda says, then she holds up a hand. “I need to drink my latte and wake up, before I have the energy to deal with this.”

  I don’t say anything further. I knew not to broach this subject before she had had her caffeine. I just grew impatient. She takes a sip and we both sit quietly while she stares at me.

  Finally, she finishes the drink and I figure it’s safe to continue.

  “It just isn’t going to work with him here,” I say.

  “What right do you have to try and boss me around?” Amanda asks angrily. “This is my house. This is our house. Charles and I will have as many guests as we want here. Maybe we’ll ask someone over and blow up an air mattress and give them the floor to your room.”

  “I don’t think you’re being very fair,” I say.

  “Fair? Are you kidding me?”

  Wow, I really did touch a nerve with Amanda.

  “You think it’s fair Devon hit his head in an accident and forgot everything? As I said before, have a little sympathy for the man. Imagine walking a mile in his shoes. Think about what it would be like to have to rely on other people to help you remember people and things. It has to be awful! Don’t you think it’s awful?”

  “Well, yes,” I say stammering. “But I still think he’d be better off elsewhere.”

  “What does it matter? I thought you were going back to your place soon?” she asks. “That’s what you told me. You said you were only going to be here for a week.”

  Oh, shit. She does have a point.

  Do I admit what is really going on? The secret I’ve been withholding from her because it is so awful?

  I’m not really ready do that. And I don’t want her to feel used. I’m not using her, but I know how it will sound.

  This is a really delicate moment. I’ve already pushed her way too far. I certainly don’t want to leave right now, and I also most certainly don’t want to lose a friend.

  But before I can say anything, she starts to rant more. I have forgotten how she could get like this. I’d hate to think how she’ll be when she gets her second latte down.

  “Look, you can leave whenever you want to, but Devon stays,” she says adamantly. “And crap, now I need another latte. And more aspirin for my head. And vitamins! Gah, I’m too hungover to deal with this.”

  “Okay, okay,” I start. “I see what you’re saying.”

  I am not going to win this battle. Devon is staying. It’s clear that the friendship he has with Charles is powerful, and perhaps it’s even stronger than the one I have with Amanda.

  I know if I keep pushing, it will only lead to Alice and me getting booted out the front door. And what will we do then? We don’t have a place to run to.

  We’d have to sleep in our car. I don’t want my child to grow up to be a homeless person and get into drugs and prostitution or any number of awful things people get into when they have to survive on the streets.

  My heart rate skyrockets and I stop myself. I need to calm down and deal with this rationally. Maybe it’s time I tell Amanda one of the big reasons I want to, no, need to be here right now.

  “Amanda?” I say.

  She is prepping the pod for the espresso machine, but she is having a hard time of it. I know that being hungover doesn’t just cause headaches, but it can also cause increased thirst, shakiness, and dizziness. The room itself can feel like it’s spinning.

  “Just a moment,” she says. “Crap, so hungover, but I need more coffee. Can’t seem to get it together right now.”

  She really loves her coffee. I have to admit, it sounds like a wonderful idea. Maybe this will be a good time to breach the gap. To find an accord. To sign some sort of an armistice and sit down at the negotiating table.

  “Here, let me make you one,” I offer. “I was a waitress for a while in college, remember? I got this.”

  I was a server at a restaurant for a year or so. When Daniel and I were still together and trying to make things work. It was there that I learned how to operate an espresso machine, among other things.

  I used to work nights. I got to the restaurant at 4 pm and sometimes did not leave until 1 am.

  I think some people think it’s easy work. Bringing people drinks and plates of food isn’t exactly rocket science, right? But it’s the human factor that many forget. You’re dealing with not only your desire to do a good job and make sure the experience is a good one for your customers, but you’re also working with an odd assortment of folks from hostesses, to other servers, busboys, food runners, cooks, dishwashers, and managers. Not to mention the often entitled, demanding customers.

  All those moving parts can be exhausting to operate with under optimal conditions. Everyone hustling because the more you sell, the more tips you make. The faster you cook, the quicker you get a raise.

  Plus, I must have walked miles on the floor to and from tables. That really wears on your feet. At the end of the night I sometimes had to go soak in a tub to ease the pain. That was, if the crew didn’t invite me out to drink instead. That had its own healing value, of a sort.

  Some of those nights out were with people from work hitting a bar late, staying until last call, then heading over to someone’s house to continue the fun. One time we drank until the sun came up. It was fueled by manic energy from the night shift spilling over into the wee hours.

  You just didn’t want to go to bed yet. My sleep schedule adjusted, and I ended up crashing out until noon most days –– just like Amanda did today!

  And speaking of, I saw couples like Charles and Amanda come in from time-to-time. Well-to-do, put together, confident. But now Amanda is struggling to press espresso grounds into the pod to put in the machine. And I am going to use my blue-collar skill set to work some coffee magic.

  I never resented those happy couples who came in. Even when Daniel and I were at our worst, and I hoped deep down inside that the bad times wouldn’t last.

  I held out hope that I too would be in a relationship like that one day: happy and in love. One where the two partners were equal, committed and loving. One where financially stability was paramount, fought for, gained, and held onto. But Daniel left me and now I’m struggling alone. It seems like a lost hope.

  I shook my head and put my mind into what I was doing, which was taking over the machine for Amanda. A latte isn’t that difficult to make, if you have the right equipment. It’s basically espresso and steamed milk.

  The key is to make it foamy enough to rest on top of the coffee so that when you sip the beverage, t
he caffeinated portion pours through the milk, creating an interesting flavor and sensation combination. You can add sugar if you’d like, preferably brown or raw, but I don’t find it necessary.

  “Amanda, would you like sugar?” I ask.

  “Ummmm, no, I’m fine,” she says wearily.

  I make her latte for her. She accepts it with an eye of suspicion but drinks it anyway. I make one for myself as well, because, why not? I’m over here anyway and I could sure use the pick-me-up.

  “So, what’s really going on, Cassie?” she asks.

  I can tell by the tension in her face that she is still annoyed, but she seems willing to hear me out.

  “Well, I have a business opportunity in the area,” I start to explain. “It appears to be very solid, but I have to be around to be sure I’m available in case they want to meet right away.”

  “I am so confused,” she says. “Does that mean you’re staying longer now?”

  “Um, yes. If that is okay?” I ask, somewhat hopefully. “And I’d also like to spend more time with you. I thought we had fun last night, no? Your speech really touched me.”

  “Too much fun,” she says, putting her hands to her temples and rubbing. “But I don’t know. You said a week. I like to stick to plans.”

  Oh no, this is going south. I have to make my case stronger and faster, because I’m losing her. If I’m not able to stay here, I’ll have to use what little money I have left and get a hotel for a few nights before becoming homeless.

  Then I’ll just be throwing money into the garbage bin. I absolutely cannot do that; it will ruin me.

  “Alice needs to be here too,” I say.

  But where am I going with this? I need to explain myself better.

  “I’m also looking at schools for her. And a potential place to live. It’s taking more time than I had originally thought.”

  “Hmmm. So, you’re not planning on staying here indefinitely, right?” she asks, still not sounding convinced.

  “No, but I would like to stay here just a little while longer,” I say. “It won’t be for long. I’m sorry; I don’t want to put you out. It’s just that it would be really be helpful.”

  “And what about Devon?” she asks. “Can you deal with him being here?”

  Oh gosh, what about him? I think that battle is lost. It’s best to accept terms of surrender and move on.

  “I thought about it and you’re right,” I admit.

  I give a little shrug.

  “Who am I to say? I will do my best to be cordial. Heck, we might even become friends.”

  Amanda sighs and sits back. She sips her latte for a few minutes, while thinking.

  “Listen, all-in-all, I don’t really care how long you stay,” she says. “Just be honest with me, is all I ask. That’s very important to me. You are a dear friend and I want us to maintain a level of trust. And please try to get along with Devon, okay? He is just finding his way again.”

  “I will do my best,” I say in agreement.

  “Good,” she says, breaking a smile. “Oh, and by the way, this latte is wonderful. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Whew.

  That was a close call. I was almost out on the streets, and Alice too.

  I breathe a sigh of relief and take another sip of my own latte. I have bought Alice and myself a few more weeks, at the most.

  But I know this can’t drag on forever. I need to get my hustle on and land a deal as quickly as possible. It has to happen very soon.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Devon

  This is getting fucking ridiculous. For the past few days, Cassie has been stepping out and leaving Alice here. No one knows where she goes, just that whatever she is doing is “important”.

  Who does she think she is? Doesn’t she have any concern for her child?

  Sure, it’s not like there aren’t people to watch her. Amanda enjoys being around Alice – as do Charles and I – and Cassie always makes sure someone has agreed to keep an eye on her. But it just seems selfish to have us do this when she’s her mother.

  No wonder I never used to like her. Things are starting to make sense now.

  I want to push the matter to Charles and Amanda, but I think it would put me in a weaker position. I’m relying on them enough already.

  Here I am, a guy recovering from amnesia, and now I want to call out the actions of someone else who is relying on their good graces. What a bizarre world I’ve reentered. I can’t wait to regain the rest of my memory or at least be able to function enough on my own.

  When the weekend arrives, Cassie steps out again. She seems more and more anxious each time she departs.

  Perhaps she has a rendezvous with a man she is seeing? Or men? She doesn’t want to come across as a bad mother, so she won’t just say she has a date?

  Or maybe she does drugs? She is going to meet her dealer?

  Or perhaps it is as something as innocuous as a book club? Although I’ve never seen her pick up a book the entire time I’ve been here. And you would think she would let us know she was going to a book club. Or, just not go, since that’s not “important” enough to leave your child for all the time.

  Whatever it is, it’s concerning, that’s for damn sure.

  As for Alice, I feel bad for her. She has no father, and a mother who is barely here. She is being raised by strangers. Nice strangers, but strangers nonetheless.

  A child cannot learn consistency or discipline with an ever-changing cast of adult supervisors. If this keeps up, Cassie is going to have to hire a nanny, but I doubt she can afford one. Either way, something, or someone, more like it, will undoubtedly break soon.

  Amanda, feeling sympathy for Alice, decides to take her to the Children’s Museum.

  “Oh, she’ll love it,” she explains to me, as she gets herself and Alice ready to leave. “There’re all sorts of fun things to do, like interactive exhibits, movies and games. And I’ll also take her to the aquarium next door. Charles and I went there once. She is going to love seeing the seals. They’re so cute and funny! It’s going to be a blast.”

  “Sounds like a good time,” I say.

  Just then, Charles walks in from down the hall.

  “Are you off, honey?” he asks.

  “Indeed, my love,” she says, and proceeds to kiss his cheek. She then calls out to the little one. “Alice, are you ready to go?”

  Alice comes running from the bedroom, wearing a Dora the Explorer backpack.

  “Yes, I’m ready!” she says gleefully.

  Amanda takes her hand, looks down and smiles.

  “Let’s go, munchkin,” she says.

  “What’s a munchkin?” Alice asks, while staring up at Amanda with a funny look and scrunched up nose.

  “They’re little people who are in one of my favorite movies, The Wizard of Oz,” Amanda explains. “They live in their own town and even have a Lollipop Guild to welcome visitors. Maybe we’ll watch it when we get back.”

  “Okay, sounds like a fun movie!” Alice says.

  “We’ll hold down the fort while you’re gone,” Charles says.

  Amanda and Alice head to the garage and get into her Jaguar XJ. It really is a nice car with a sleek design and a gorgeous dark sapphire paint job.

  The engine revs up, the garage door opens, the car backs out, turns, and they are on their way. As the garage door closes, Charles goes to the kitchen to grab two beers from the fridge.

  “When the cat’s away...” he says, in a mischievous tone.

  “The mice will play,’” I whisper to myself.

  These colloquial sayings are coming back to me now, day-by-day.

  Charles and I now have some time to ourselves, to drink some beers in the man cave, watch some golf, and shoot the shit. This must be what we did quite a bit of before my accident.

  “Who knows if Tiger is ever going to regain his swing?” I say. “It’s been gone since, what, back in ‘07 when he last won a major championship?”r />
  I apparently know quite a bit about the famous golfer, as I find while I dive in with some thoughts.

  “I guess four back surgeries and a crazy marriage will set you back a bit.”

  “Shit, that’s right, he did have four,” Charles says. “He must really be messed up and probably needs a lot of rehab just to be able to swing. You kinda need your back for that. He’s been so good for so long; hopefully he can regain his form.”

  “Well, you’d be too, if you had been swinging a golf club since age 2,” I say.

  “He was that that young?” Charles says, incredulously. “Jeez. What were we doing at 2?”

  “Not playing golf,” I say with a laugh. “Probably watching Barney & Friends. I don’t know – maybe I’ll remember it when everything comes back to me.”

  “Imagine knowing exactly what you want to do for the rest of your life and you’re only a toddler,” Charles muses.

  I don’t feel like a toddler, but I definitely feel like a child some days. Will I ever fully be myself again?

  “Hey, I asked some guys from the high school days to come out and get some drinks with us tonight,” Charles says, changing the topic. “That okay with you? Are you up for it?”

  “Oh yeah? I guess that could be cool,” I answer.

  “Yeah, we actually see them every so often, or we used to, before your accident,” he explains. “They’ve been asking about you, but I didn’t want to bring up the idea of hanging out until… Well, you know.”

  “Oh, I get it,” I say. “Have to be able to make sure I can handle it. Well, I feel pretty good. It’s possible.”

  “Hey, I’m impressed,” he says. “Your recall of the career highlights and lowlights of Tiger Woods is pretty damn exemplary. It’s a damn good sign.”

  “Well hey, I didn’t know I had all of that knowledge locked away,” I say, with a laugh. “So yeah, might as well go for it tonight, right? I’m in.”

  “No time like the present, buddy,” he says, with confidence. “In fact, it’s about time to head there, if you want.”

  “Okay, sure,” I agree, and get up so I can start getting ready.