Chapter Four
Violet
“We’re going,” Claire said stomping her foot. She could be a lot like a child, and, even though it could be annoying, it was adorably charming most days. It was more annoying than charming today.
“Why?” Violet whined. “I don’t want to go.” Violet was not antisocial in the least bit. In fact, she liked going out, but she liked to plan her outings. She was the type to bring a checklist of where she was going and what activities she could do there so that she could take advantage of the opportunity.
“Violet, you are going out. I will not let you sit around this house reading another book or watching Top Chef and trying to replicate the dishes.” Claire huffed, blowing air into her bangs.
“When you say it like that, I sound like a spinster.”
“You’re one cat away from being a cat lady.” Claire threw her hands up.
Violet rolled her eyes. “I don’t have a cat.”
“Exactly!”
Claire was being unreasonable, standing in front of Violet’s closet and fretting over the options. To Claire, Violet had no options. In her mind, everything needed to go, but Violet was unmoved. Claire’s closet was still in the 1960s, saved only by the perpetual rule of fashion that everything comes back into style. Violet’s closet was a complete reflection of her personality: reliable.
That’s who she was. Reliable. Dependable. The one friend in their group who was guaranteed to be around when you needed them, AKA boring to Claire.
“Why don’t you have a little black dress? Every woman needs a little black dress! How have I not known about this?” Claire’s brows furrowed together in frustration. “You’ll just have to wear something of mine.”
That was most certainly never going to happen. For one, Claire was five foot five, much shorter than Violet. The second glaringly obvious reason was their difference in weight and size. Claire was slim and lithe with curves in the right places. She was petite, but she had a body. No one could deny that. Violet was thin with a handful of boobs and butt. When she was in college, she had wished for more bust so she could have cleavage, but now she was grateful her breasts didn’t always touch. Especially on a hot day.
“There are things I can wear in my closet. You’re just being dramatic,” she said standing, pulling her hangers to the side one by one.
“Well let’s see it then,” Claire said. “What do you wear when you’re trying to be sexy?”
“Sexy?” Violet repeated with disgust. “I’m not husband shopping. I’m going for a drink with the girls. Jesus, Claire, what is wrong with you? Please tell me that’s not why you want to go out tonight.”
Claire shrugged. “No. That’s not why I asked you to go out, but you never know when you’ll meet the man you want to spend the rest of your life with. Don’t you want to make a good impression? Don’t let life catch you slipping. If you always put your best foot forward and all that drivel.”
Violet tried to keep a positive attitude. Claire meant well. that’s why she was her best friend, but still, it was moments like this that made Violet want to ring Claire’s neck.
“Wow,” Violet said with dry sarcasm. “You’re like a Hallmark card.”
“Well, there’s more where that came from. If you stay ready, you don’t have to get ready. So, what are you planning to wear?” Claire stared at her and Violet turned back to her closet with a sigh.
Claire had on a piece that could only be described as a sexy witch dress, and only Claire could pull it off. Beside her, Violet knew she wouldn’t be invisible. She was too tall for that, but she didn’t want to look plain.
She hummed, moving hangers aside, and holding up various tops and blouses to her chest in front of the mirror. She grabbed another hanger, pairing a blouse and a cardigan she always wore together.
“For God’s sake, you don’t wear a cardigan to a bar. Are you trying to ruin your good clothes?” she reprimanded. “What if someone spills beer on you?”
“I don’t think I want to be in a place where people are so sloshed beer is being spilled,” Violet said.
“You. Are. Not. Wearing. A. Cardigan.”
Violet giggled and put it back. “Yes, Mom.”
It took thirty more minutes, but Violet finally picked out an outfit she and Claire agreed on. Hidden in her closet was a pink dress she thought was too short to be professional. When paired with a black belt to cinch her waist, she looked a little more than cute.
“Who did you invite?” Violet asked as she pulled on her clothes.
“Kat and Jill,” Claire said, plugging in a curling iron.
“What about Monica?” Violet sat at her vanity table to apply a small tint of lipstick.
“Mon said she couldn’t come tonight.” Claire slipped behind Violet to start curling her hair. It went unsaid that Violet couldn’t wear her hair straight or in her usual ponytail.
Claire stepped back, fluffing up Violet’s hair before smiling at Violet’s reflection.
“All done?” Violet asked.
“Honey, we’re going to knock them dead,” she said stepping back and handing Violet her heels.
They drove to the bar together and, as promised, Katherine and Jill were just inside the entrance waiting for them.
Katherine wrapped her arms around Claire in greeting before stepping back to look at Violet.
Violet took the time to check out Katherine’s outfit. She was just a hair taller than Violet in flats. This was a rare occasion where Violet wore heels, putting them at eye level.
Katherine’s short black hair was cropped around her head, making her cheekbones sharper and her button nose more round. She looked like the enigma that she was. Katherine was the only person Violet knew who played in a folk-rock band.
Jill wore a simple yellow dress, and it highlighted her brown skin perfectly. She looked like she spent a lot of time outside, which she did. As a florist, she was always somewhere in the sun with her hands in the dirt.
The girls greeted each other before quickly finding a table. They went to bars that served food, since Katherine seemed to have a bottomless pit for a stomach and an unfair metabolism.
Once seated at a table, the girls stared at the menu.
“What kind of bar doesn’t have brown liquor?” Claire said with a frown.
“The kind that can afford to be picky about who it caters to, apparently.” Violet sat across from her and looked around. It was filled to the brim with people. “They’re obviously not lacking in customers or popularity.”
“True,” Katherine said, quickly ordering from the limited menu.
“Can I be the first to say, Violet, you look amazing,” Jill said as the hostess walked away with their orders in tow. She smiled at Violet, causing her to blush. “Claire made it seem like she had to drag you out of the house.”
“I did. You’d think the girl would recognize something good happening,” Claire said scowling.
“Thank you. Claire insisted I look this made up.” Violet rolled her eyes but responding only to Jill.
“Why?” Katherine asked, next to Violet. “I have to hear the reason that got you out the house and in heels.”
“Husband shopping,” Claire said with a big meddling smile.
Katherine’s eyebrows shot up in shock before she bent over the table laughing. “Husband shopping,” she said in disbelief. “Since when are you looking for anything outside of the Box?”
They called Violet’s store the Box for short.
Violet shrugged. “I’m open to other things. I care about more than just my work.”
“What things?” Claire said, looking at Violet like she’d grown horns.
“Things!” Violet said, clarifying nothing. “Other things. I do things other than work.” She couldn’t think of anything at the moment, but she did other things. She was sure of it.
Jill reached over to cover Violet’s balled up fist with her hand. “Oh, honey, we’re not picking on you. There’s nothing wrong with having passion. We love that about you. You’re so ambitious.”
“And I’m not criticizing you for it. You had a vision, and you made it come to life. More power to you.” Katherine shrugged. “I’m just saying, as of recently, I didn’t know you had time for anything else.”
“Well, maybe I want to make time for something else,” Violet said rolling her neck.
“That’s the spirit!” Claire clapped. “Our girl, Violet, is shaping up.”
“Thus, the heels,” Jill added.
“Yup,” Claire said to the girls before turning to look at Violet. “She has the right mindset, but her clothes need work.” Her lips turned down. “You wouldn’t believe the time we had trying to find something to wear tonight.”
“So, Vi hired an accountant,” Claire said as if it was a secret.
“Go, Vi.” Jill raised her Cosmo. “I’m glad you finally took the plunge. You need help.”
“I smell a story.” Katherine squinted as she sipped her martini. “What are you leaving out?”
“She likes him,” Claire said.
“I do not.” Violet crossed her arms over her chest.
“She totally does. I could hear it in her voice,” Claire retorted.
“She’s delusional,” Violet said sipping her Amaretto Sour.
“Okay, then, tell me this, do you find him attractive?” Katherine asked with a curious stare.
Violets breath caught, and she found she couldn’t hide how she felt. She was with her girlfriends. If she couldn’t be honest with them, she would be lying. But admission would only encourage the teasing.
“In all honesty, yes. Frank Lodge is the sexiest man I’ve ever seen.” She glanced down at the table, unable to hold any of their eyes. “But I told him the truth. I am only looking for an accountant.”
“Claire?” a familiar voice said, sending a bolt of electricity down Violet’s spine.
“Hey, Frank.” Claire jumped up to hug him as if they were good friends. “What are the odds of finding you here?”
Violet was mortified and found she couldn’t look up. She could feel herself blush and didn’t want to check to see if Frank had heard what she just said.
“Actually, I found you. I’m here with Desmond, and I thought I saw you over here,” he said moving closer to the table to avoid being jostled by a passing group of people. “I thought I’d come over and say hi.” His voice dropped an octave as he said, “It’s nice to see you again, Violet,” he said leaning closer to her.
She could feel her cheeks heating even more, and she cursed her fair skin.
“Hi,” she squeaked out. She searched her brain for something else she could say without sounding like an idiot and was saved by another male.
“Are you the one that has him all knotted up?” A man with dark brown skin threw his arm around Frank, who was turning a slight shade of pink.
“I can’t be sure,” Violet said. “Did he mention me by name?”
The man laughed and stuck out his hand to shake hers. “My name’s Desmond. I’m one of Frank’s oldest friends.”
“I’m Violet.” She smiled at him then turned to watch Claire and Frank talk with a foreign feeling eating at her stomach. It was a growing gnawing sense that she didn’t want Claire talking to Frank. She wanted Frank to be talking to her. It took her a moment to realize what it was. Jealousy. Violet couldn’t remember feeling it before with such intensity.
Desmond chuckled. “I see your thoughts are elsewhere, so I’ll just head back to our table.” He turned to walk away then paused, eying her for a moment before pulling out a card and handing it to her. “I know Frank can be a handful, so if you ever need to talk don’t hesitate to call me.”
Surprised, Violet smiled at the gesture. “Thanks, I appreciate it.” She laughed. “Hopefully it won’t come to that though.”
He smiled and gave her a small wave as he returned to their table. Violet quickly turned her attention back to Frank, fully intending to butt in and make herself known.
“So, you do you come here often?” Violet asked, but she couldn’t believe it was her voice. That was the oldest pickup line in the book, and everyone knew it. She just wanted Frank to stop talking to Claire and start noticing her.
Violet wasn’t used to being the jealous girl. She was the quiet, reliable girl who wanted to give people gifts that they would remember and love for a lifetime. She wasn’t the girl who would drink a lot at a bar and try to get a man like Frank Lodge to notice her.
Violet couldn’t believe the emotions taking over, but she wanted to talk to Frank. She didn’t want to stop seeing his face or hearing his voice, and if that meant pushing Claire away for a few minutes, then that was okay. Besides, Claire wanted her to step outside her box, and Frank was definitely outside the box for Violet.
“Sometimes,” Frank responded, a small smile on his lips. “Do you come here often?”
His smile was melting her, and she hoped he couldn’t see that. She needed to play this cool. If she seemed too eager, he might lose interest, and she didn’t want that. She wanted this conversation and this feeling to last for as long as possible and saying the wrong thing could ruin it.
“Sometimes,” she said, trying to match his tone. He made it look easy, but she was sweating, just talking to him.
“Maybe we’ll run into each other again.”
“Maybe we will.” She smiled, trying to make it look as easy as his.
As he turned away, Violet’s face heated, a huge blush that hid nothing from her friends. When he was far enough away, the girls all started to laugh.
“You’re so into him!” Jill squealed.
“Did you see him? He’s so into her!” Katherine said.
“He definitely has it bad for you,” Claire agreed.
“He does not! He spent most of the time talking to you.” She couldn’t believe them. She wanted it to be true, but maybe he was just trying to be nice. She didn’t want to read too much into it, in case she was wrong.
“Trust me, Violet. I know him. He likes you,” Claire said. “Now just admit that you like him too.”
“It doesn’t matter. He’s my accountant.”
“For the time being,” Jill said, “but after? Anything could happen. So, admit to it.”
She blushed even harder, which she wasn’t sure was possible. She wanted to blame it on the alcohol, but she knew she couldn’t. All the blood rushing to her face was because of the man walking away from the table, and the girls knew it.
“Fine. I’m interested in Frank,” she said, watching him head to his own table. When the words escaped her lips, she thought she saw him stop for a second, but she wasn’t sure. Before her mind could even process it, he had sat down with his own friends, and the moment was gone.