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Barry taking the job at Natural Faces had been hard on Brianna, but she somewhat got used to it. As much as she could get used to her boyfriend working for the rival company—for someone she hated—that was. Of course, she couldn’t help but make a snarky comment here and there, or call Lauren a bitch every time Barry mentioned her, but she’d been handling the whole thing fairly well, at least by her standards. What had been rougher, though, was seeing her, her nemesis, walk through her office door that morning. Aside from the usual pretending everything was fine between the two of them, Lauren had had the audacity to offer to buy Say Grace, a proposition to “save” them, as if Brianna Hanson would ever need saving. Not only that, but in the process she’d revealed to Barry that the company was in trouble—which she’d conveniently refrained from discussing with him—creating turmoil in their relationship. Arguably, that last part was on her for not telling him, but she couldn’t help but blame Lauren for it. For everything.
Hours had gone by and, quite frankly, she couldn’t remember just how long she’d stayed behind her desk, her brain clouded by the events that took place in her office that day. Seeing Lauren again for the first time in ages, her offer, the fight with Barry. All she knew was that it was probably a while, judging by the darkness the sun setting had created in the room. She didn’t even bother turning on the light to put away the file that had remained untouched in front of her the whole time she’d been sitting there. She grabbed her coat and purse, heading for the door. She’d get back to it all the next day. She had only just gotten to her car when her phone chimed. A text from Barry, telling her he would spend the night at a hotel as he needed space to reflect on what had happened. She leaned back into her seat, her eyes closing as she sighed loudly. She wasn’t quite sure she wanted to go home now, dreading going back to an empty house when Barry had moved in so recently and she’d already found a way to fuck it up. She couldn’t stay in the parking lot of Say Grace indefinitely, either. She started the car, driving aimlessly for a bit before deciding to park near a bar she’d never been to, in a neighborhood she barely knew, because, in all honesty, she couldn’t bear to bump into someone she knew.
Sitting at the bar, drink in hand and phone in front of her, she waited. She waited for time to go by, for the uncomfortable feeling in her chest to stop, for Barry to call, anything. She’d ordered her third—or maybe was it fourth—drink when a voice caught her attention.
“Brianna?”
She turned around slowly, praying the person behind her wasn’t who she thought it was, but alas.
“Lauren.”
Acknowledging her presence was as far as this conversation would go, she thought, and she pivoted back to empty the glass that had just been put in front of her. She was about to ask for a refill when her sworn enemy ordered the bartender to pour two more.
“Mind if I sit here?” She asked, but only after she’d already helped herself to the stool next to Brianna.
“I’m waiting for someone,” she replied dryly, her eyes avoiding Lauren’s, shifting her body slightly to her left as an attempt to escape the other woman.
They both knew she wasn’t, though. They sipped on their drinks without a word, Lauren glancing at Brianna every now and then, sometimes opening her mouth to speak but deciding against it every time. Surprisingly, it was Brianna who broke the silence.
“What do you want, Lauren?”
“I want to bury the hatchet, Bri.”
The familiarity sent a shiver down Brianna’s spine. She was used to her loved ones calling her Bri, of course, but it was coming from Lauren. Lauren, who she hated. Lauren, who hadn’t called her that in years. She scoffed before taking another, bigger sip and faced her long-time enemy. How could she possibly expect her to forget about the past ten years? No, the woman was delusional, that had to be it.
“So you offer to buy my company?”
“I was trying to help.”
Brianna scoffed again. Out of all the things Lauren had said that day, this had to be the most blatant lie. If anything, this was about her getting richer—and getting rid of a rival company by absorbing it—but it never was about helping her. It never had been.
She finished her drink, waved the bartender over for another one. Of course, Lauren had to ask for another one, too, because when had she ever had an idea of her own? She’d copied Brianna ever since the very first day and that yellow skirt.
“I meant it, you know? Earlier, when I said I missed us,” Lauren finally said, her eyes going from the shaker in the bartender’s hand to Brianna.
“There is no ‘us,’ Lauren.”
“Not anymore.”
Brianna was taken aback by what seemed to be a hint of sadness in Lauren’s voice. She wasn’t quite sure if it was real, though, or if this was one of her usual attempts at manipulating her. The latter, she assumed, and so she didn’t bother answering.
“Do you still hate me?”
“That I very much do, yes,” Brianna chuckled. “It kind of goes with the whole nemesis thing, you know.”
She must have hurt Lauren’s feelings—if she had any—because the other woman became unusually quiet. Brianna was shocked she didn’t clap back, or said she appreciated the banter, or denied the nemesis claims to insist they were friends. She watched her chug the end of her drink and put her coat on, surprising herself by calling out her name as she was about to leave. Lauren turned around, a hopeful look on her face.
“Why did you say the only reason I got my job is because my mother felt sorry for me?”
Lauren didn’t seem to understand, or at the very least pretended not to.
“That article a couple years ago,” Brianna explained. “If we’re friends as you so often claim, why would you say that?”
“Do you really want to know?”
Brianna nodded and Lauren sat back next to her, her purse on the counter.
“Jealousy. Revenge. Pain, too. Mostly pain.”
For the first time in forever, Lauren sounded honest. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was those last couple words, but Brianna found herself immediately raising her voice at her. She didn’t mean to—she’d never plan to let Lauren notice she’d gotten to her—but her tone betrayed her.
“You don’t—” She paused, catching herself before the whole bar heard her. Lower, she continued. “You don’t get to talk to me about pain, Laur.”
Lauren couldn’t help but smile at the familiar nickname, until she realized what Brianna meant.
“That’s not fair, Bri. You’re the one who left.”
“And you’re the one who lied to my face.”
“Because you didn’t leave me any other choice! What was I supposed to do? Turn down a job I so desperately wanted because, what, you decided that if you couldn’t get it, nobody else could?”
“Well, forgive me for thinking my own girlfriend wouldn’t steal my dream job from me!”
This time, Brianna didn’t control the volume of her voice, only noticing because a few people were now staring at them.
“I forget the world has to revolve around poor little Brianna.”
“You only applied for the job because I wanted it! It’s always been like this, Laur. I do something, you do the same. I want something, you take it. I’m surprised you haven’t hit on Barry yet, actually.”
“Speaking of, how did Barry take your not telling him that Say Grace is in trouble?”
If looks could kill, she would have been dead on the spot. Lauren had jeopardized her relationship with Barry, and now there she was, in front of her, gloating.
She should have seen it coming, really. For a second there, she almost believed her when she’d said she wanted to bury the hatchet. But that was all a ruse, wasn’t it? A way for her to get her to let down her guard, to tear her defenses apart and get her to, what, sell Say Grace?
“I don’t know what kind of game you think you’re playing,” Brianna finally said. “But you’re not going to win.”
She placed her glass back on the coaster in front of her and stood up from her stool. She was about to leave the bar when the room started spinning, forcing her to grab the counter to not lose balance and causing Lauren a faint smile.
“I thought Brianna Hanson knew how to hold her liquor.”
“I do,” she replied dryly. “I’m just slightly more tired than usual, you know, after an energy leech came to my office this morning and all.”
Lauren smiled again, a little wider this time. This was the kind of banter she missed. This was the woman she missed. She watched as Brianna looked through her purse, triumphantly pulling her car keys out of it. Her hand was still up in the air when Lauren snatched them from her.
“I am not letting you drive. Not after that many drinks, Bri.”
Brianna tried to argue that Lauren had been drinking too, that she didn’t need help anyway and certainly not from her of all people—nothing made the woman give her back her damn keys.
“At least, let me drive you home.” She continued. “We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. I just want you to get home safe.”
Normally, this kind of honesty would have thrown Brianna off, even made her run away, really. In that instant, though, and surely it was the alcohol speaking, it was nice to find a semblance of friendship and care in the words of the woman she’d dedicated the second half of her life to hating. After everything they’d been through, it was pleasant to see that not all that was left was hatred. And so, without really taking the time to think about it, she found herself nodding and following Lauren into the parking lot, frowning but remaining silent as she watched her settle into the driver’s seat of her car.
They drove in silence, Brianna looking out of her window and Lauren glancing at her every now and then, the steady purr of the engine resonating through the night.
After a good ten minutes of silence, Lauren turned to Brianna.
“Do you ever think about what could have been?”
“I thought we didn’t have to talk.”
“Fine,” Lauren smiled. “I’ll do the talking.”
She paused, expecting an answer, some form of protest or snarky comment coming from her right, but Brianna only let out a soft sigh, which Lauren took as a sign to keep going.
“I genuinely believe we made each other better, Bri. You pushed me to be a better person. Made me tougher, too. I would not have gotten to where I am without you, Natural Faces would not be what it is without you. I need you to know that. And I need you to know that I hate how things are now, too.”
For the first time since they’d gotten in the car, Brianna shifted to look at Lauren. Their eyes met and Lauren gave her a sad smile. She might have moved on, she might have married Loren—and yes, she was aware of how ridiculous it was that they both had the same name—but she never truly got over losing Brianna. At least, not with the way things ended. She was about to speak again when the younger woman indicated her house was a little further on the left. She pulled into the driveway, turning the engine off and sitting there for a few moments.
Brianna held out her hand, a peace offering of sorts, and, after hesitating for a few seconds, Lauren grabbed it, her thumb caressing her soft skin.
“I can’t say I’m ever not going to resent you,” Brianna started, a vulnerability she was unfamiliar with coming over her, “but I think I can make an effort. For Barry, for you. For us.”
She squeezed her hand, smiled when Lauren squeezed back.
“Thank you for driving me home, Laur,” she almost whispered, leaning in to softly kiss Lauren’s cheek—an affectionate gesture that surprised both of them.
“Barry has the day off tomorrow,” Lauren started as she walked away. “You guys should talk. Fix things before it’s too late.”
Brianna nodded and walked into her house. Maybe reconnecting with Lauren wasn’t such a bad idea after all.