4. Dirty Shirley

4

DIRTY SHIRLEY

ROCKLAND, GRACIE AbrAMS

Cara

“Go shower, Cara . Let me handle it, Cara. Go do your thing, Carita ,” I grumble to myself while I scrub furiously. Fucking Manuel Zabana had to be here and throw everything off. I’m going to kill Allie, too. What kind of friend doesn’t give her best friend a heads up about sending her obnoxiously hot brother to go rescue her? What in the actual fuckety fuck?!

What about me trying to be independent and shit? What about me trying to find myself after being locked in a two-life spiral? My life is split evenly between school and summer breaks in Baker. Now that both of my worlds have crumbled, I can freely do whatever I want. Not that I couldn’t before; but when Allie decided to leave Baker Oaks, cut out everything from that town aside from me and our friendship, it was hard juggling the secrets and the lies. But I would do that for her twice over in a heartbeat. Now, if she had told me what kept her and Jake separate all those years, I would’ve put some sense into that brain of hers. I know why she did it but now, at twenty-eight, I don’t think it needed to happen. Not my call though, so I kept being the supportive friend she needed.

Every summer, I set up my townhouse for rent and travel back to Baker to help my parents out at Ronnie’s. Ronnie’s was Grandpa’s legacy, and he left it to my dad; one day, it will be mine, too. Even though my passion is not running the eclectic homey diner, I still love doing it. I love serving others and getting to know them better. I can tell when Sue is having a rough day because she drinks her coffee black, or when Roe’s on a creative streak because she orders food she doesn’t normally eat and sits and doodles. I’ve seen people meet there and then go on to have relationships, and I’ve heard more town gossip at Ronnie’s than anywhere else.

I do love working there but I don’t love anything more than teaching. I’ve known I wanted to be a teacher since I could remember and there’s nothing that makes me want to leave this profession I love. Not the hard days, not the sad days, not the long days. I love it. So when my best friend moved back to Baker and got a job teaching at the elementary school—the same one I attended as a kid—I called Mr. Ryan and begged for a SPED position. Their previous teacher quit so it was meant to be. Luck , he said. Serendipitous , I replied. There’s very little in life left to luck and a whole lot that is just meant to be. Fate. Magic.

This meant I could jump right back to my favorite place, with my favorite people, and do what I love most. All perfect, except, my stupid ex lives there and now he’s engaged to Jake’s ex. They were supposed to move out of Baker, but who knows when that will happen.

So I wanted to do something for myself and take the road trip I’ve always wanted to take. I asked Cole to go with me multiple times, but he could never take the time off to do it. If it wasn’t something he wanted to do, there was never enough time in his eyes. He did suggest I take the trip with Allie, but she was always working crazy hours and only did day or weekend trips with me. I didn’t feel like going with anyone else, so it just didn’t happen.

“Shit,” I groan to the empty room as cold water hits my skin. After getting out of the shower, drying my body and dressing in my favorite green dress with a daisy pattern, I blow out my hair and add some blush so I don’t look dead. I open the fridge, the cool air brushing against my skin, and reach for the pitcher of sweet tea. I tilt it, pouring the tea into my iced coffee cup, the clink of ice echoing as it fills. With a satisfied nod, I sling my purse over my shoulder, the familiar weight comforting against me. Almost two hours later I’m ready, so I take a deep breath, push the front door open, and step outside, the summer air warming my face immediately.

“Whoa, where are you going so fast?” Manny asks as I almost run smack into him. He’s standing there with a gift bag the size of a wine bottle in one hand and three other shopping bags in the other. He’s wearing a different shirt than before—this one dark and fitted as if it were tailor-made for him. Of course it fits perfectly; Manny always looks like every piece of clothing was designed just for him.

I’m not sure when I first noticed how attractive he was—maybe around his seventeenth or eighteenth birthday—but now, seeing him as a fully grown man, he’s undeniably stunning. His navy button-down shirt, slightly unbuttoned at the collar, and his dark jeans highlight his well-defined figure. The little bracelet he always wears adds a subtle touch of sophistication. He looks and smells expensive, with an effortlessly polished vibe. Meanwhile, I’m a crumbling mess.

He clears his throat, bringing me back to reality and I remember briefly how he said he would go get a gift for my boss.

“How did you get changed so fast? Is that wine for my boss?” I ask.

“Hotel room, yes, and these are for your other staff friends. I know you said your boss, but I assume you have an assistant principal and the way you were talking to… what was her name?”

“Beth,” I whisper.

“Yeah, Beth. It seemed like she is important so I got her something, too.”

He’s always been this thoughtful—even though the media makes him seem like a superficial asshole. He’s such a good brother and friend to Allie and in part, he has been to me too, as much as I want to kill him sometimes with his antics.

“Mm, thanks? I have to go. Are you coming or…?” I ask.

“I thought you’d never ask. Our car is waiting,” he says, pointing at a dark SUV idling behind him. He opens the door for me and steps aside letting me in first, and then stepping in closing the door behind him.

“Where to, Mr. Zabana?” the driver asks.

“Where are we going, Cara?”

“Uh, to Limoncello,” I reply and the driver nods, puts the directions on the screen and we begin our twelve-minute drive to the restaurant. The SUV smells new so I know it’s not his, but I’m still shocked from the whole outfit, gifts in hands, and vehicle waiting for us to say anything.

“Talk to me about this party. Are we staying for long? Are these people fun? Do I need liquor to deal with your coworkers, or are they cool and I can drink wine?” he asks.

“Who invited you to stay with me?” I ask, raising my eyebrow and turning my body so I can face him.

“I’m coming along; no need for an invitation,” Manny quips with a lighthearted voice. “I want to hear more about this road trip and everything else you’ve got on your to-do list for moving back. My siblings conspired against me, so I’m off work duty until Sunday.”

“You’re taking four days off? I didn’t think you could stay away from work for even half a day,” I reply, a hint of disbelief in my voice, bringing my hands to my chest and dropping my mouth open.

“No, I’m just not required to show up anywhere. I’ll be working from my hotel room tonight and tomorrow. But since I’m already here and don’t know anyone in the city, I figured some fresh air and a bit of distraction would do me good.”

Manny’s casual demeanor contrasts with the stress that’s been weighing on me, and it’s infuriating yet oddly comforting to have him around. As we drive through the city, I watch the neon lights blur past. The roads are bustling with life, the occasional honk of a horn slicing through the hum of the city.

We arrive at Limoncello, the sports bar that stands out from the surrounding buildings with its vibrant colors. The exterior is painted a warm, sunny yellow, with large arched windows framed by lush green plants. Soft, glowing lights are strung across the entrance and they cast a cheerful, welcoming glow. A vintage wooden sign with elegant lettering hangs above the door, swaying gently in the evening breeze.

We step out of the SUV and walk in; all the while, Manny’s hand doesn’t leave my back. It lingers there as he leads me where we’re going. It’s such a simple touch but one my body has craved for years. I’ve been so starved of physical touch that this little contact has my skin on fire. I’ve slept with plenty of people and had my shared fun but the subtle lingering touches, the protective touches—those don’t happen anymore and apparently I’ve missed them. The wind carries his scent of pine and something citrusy and maybe even mint, but all of it overpowers everything else going on. He either wears the best cologne there is or I have to get laid, stat.

“Ms. Thompson!” Derek, one of the science teachers, shouts when he sees me. Everyone waves and smiles at us as we walk up to the area reserved for our school. This has become a tradition now: between the end of the school year and before our post-planning days, we have dinner at Limoncello on a Thursday. They have karaoke and the VIP area is right near the stage so we have free entertainment all night.

I wave my hellos and walk to the bar so I can order and start drowning my emotions in alcohol. I wish I could name them all, but somewhere between ending the school year and Manny being here, makes the move and the start of a new era feel all too real and I hate change.

“Hi angel, what’s your best local IPA?” Manny asks the bartender and with a giant smile she gives him a list. He orders one that I’ve never heard of and turns to me. “What about you, what’s your poison today?”

“Can I have a Dirty Shirley?”

“Sure thing, coming right up,” she says and Manny smiles at me.

“What?” I snap.

“I didn’t take you for a grenadine girl,” he answers, smiling bigger.

“Well considering that I have the taste of a five-year-old, Dirty Shirleys are where it’s at. Plus, Natalie spoiled me with her delicious wine and now everything I taste is too adult-ish for me. Speaking of my little kid taste, can you order chicken tenders too? I’m starving.”

The girl comes back with our drinks, takes the chicken tender order along with some potstickers for Manny, and passes him a napkin with her phone number and a wink. I roll my eyes at him after he puts it in his pocket .

“What? Can’t blame me, I just smiled at her,” he chuckles.

I get up with a groan and join my coworkers in the area reserved for us. There are maybe thirty people present, not many for the size of our school but all of my favorites are here and that’s what matters.

“Cara, come sit here,” Beth calls and I join her and the rest of the front office crew.

“Who’s this handsome man, Cara?” Colleen, Beth’s right hand, asks. But before I can introduce him, Manny takes charge of the conversation.

“Hi, I’m Manuel but you can call me Manny.” He grabs her hand and kisses the top of it while winking at her.

“Where were you hiding this gentleman?” Colleen swoons, and all I do is smile and nod before I pull Manny by the arm and make him sit with me, on the opposite side of the table.

We talk for a while about my plans and the new school. They tell me how much they’ll miss me and how the school won’t be the same without me. I give the gifts that Manny bought and when my boss opens the wine, I see it’s a freaking expensive wine. She’s appreciative, of course, but I just want to kill Manny because what in the actual fuck? The room is dark and it’s crowded, making the air feel thicker as the time goes by. Between the singers choosing different music from upbeat tempos to slow songs and Manny keeping my Dirty Shirleys refilled, I’m feeling great but don’t want to overdo it. I’m about to call it a night when the person on the mic calls my name to go sing.

“This must be a mistake because I didn’t write my name down,” I say to really no one but also to everyone around me.

“You said you wanted to sing karaoke this summer so I wrote your name down,” Manny explains, and if looks could kill I’m sure he would be dead.

“What do you mean you wrote my name down, Manny? I’m not singing in front of all these people,” I snap but I don’t have time to say anything else because the whole area claps and shouts for me to stand up. Gotta love working with teachers.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming.” I stand, pulling my dress down and shooting daggers at this guy because I will kill him. I will.

I walk up to the DJ stand and ask for a minute so I can pick a song. He starts a song and promises the audience he’ll be back with more karaoke in no time. I look at the book and although I could pick so many of the upbeat and cheery songs, there’s one in particular that calls my name. Seeing it in the choices made my heart skip a beat because it’s so new, I didn’t think they would have the instrumental version for it.

“Can I sing this?’ I ask and when I do, his face brightens.

“You can but this one is a little different—if you’re up for a challenge.” His smile could light up the whole room. His eyes shine with something that looks like hope.

I can’t let him down now so I say, “I’m always up for a challenge.”