Page 11 of Beauty and the Grease (Midlife Meet Cute #4)

Jenny

Well, I sure shut down that conversation.

I should have known. I couldn’t convince Chase to follow his dreams when we were twenty-five, so why should now be any different?

Back in my room, I shower and turn on a movie. It’s been ages since I’ve had cable, and yet the same movies that used to run on these channels are still on. A small comfort.

The next morning, a sliver of sunlight nudges my eyes open. I don’t recognize the serene, sparse room. Oh, right. Retreat center. Yoga. Chase.

Memories rush back. The corporate drones, the buffet, the storm. Almost getting taken out by a tree limb. Chase by my side, asking if I’m okay.

Chase looking at me. Chase—

I bolt upright. We almost kissed. What a mistake that would have been.

It’s a lot to unpack, mentally. Purely mentally since I don’t have actual bags to unpack or re-pack. Weirdly, it’s freeing.

I don’t know what I was thinking trying to use this bizarre situation as a vacation. It’s time to get back to Derby. Back to my life.

A text appears from my new yoga pal.

Gina: Breakfast! Plenty to share. Come down!

I suppose I could sneak in a quick bite before taking off.

I meet her downstairs at a buffet offering cage-free egg whites, whole grain toast, Greek yogurt, and steel-cut oats with pomegranate.

This could be the start of a whole new healthy breakfast regimen.

Just as soon as I’m done with the cartoon box cereals back home.

“How was your dinner with Chase?” Ameriel, who gave me the yoga clothes, gestures toward an empty seat beside her. I tag her as early thirties, though her brown skin free from any wrinkle or blemish could put her younger.

Gina’s eyes light up. “Yes, how’s Chase?”

“Fine.” How much do I give them?

“Fine.” Gina rolls her eyes. “Did you two shack up last night?”

I nearly snort out my orange juice.

“Gina!” Ameriel swats her. “You’re so intrusive.”

“What? He’s a hot, single daddy. Did you hear how he gushed about his kids yesterday?”

Instead of answering, Ameriel stirs Stevia into her herbal tea, looking at me. “You’re just friends with Chase?”

Were we friends? The easy answer is yes. “Umm…”

“More than friends?” Gina presses.

“It’s not that, it’s just…”

“Just?”

I scan the room. Isn’t there anything else worth talking about? The other guests eat quietly while the view outside offers gray dullness not worth commenting on.

“We used to…be together,” I say finally. “We ran into each other yesterday by accident. His car is at my shop, he needed a ride, and then the storm happened. It’s simply a strange order of events.”

“An ex,” Ameriel coos. “You two are friendly. Were you together long?”

“A few years.” Married two weeks.

“Kids?” Gina asks.

I choke on my eggs. “No. He has them, but with his now ex-wife.”

Ameriel nods in understanding. “Relationships can be complex. Sounds like he’s single again?”

“I guess. I don’t know.” I focus on my food.

Gina snorts. “Yes, you do. Didn’t you tell me yesterday his bosses think you two came here together?”

Busted. “Okay, fine. It’s only for appearances’ sake. Nothing more. His one boss has been giving him a hard time about his divorce. Which is weird, so I felt bad.”

“I looked up the company last night, just curious about them.” Gina strokes a finger over her phone, looking at it longingly. “I don’t think I’m strong enough for another eight hours of the digital detox basket.”

“You only lasted three yesterday,” Ameriel says.

“I deserve a cookie for three hours.”

Ameriel shakes her head. “Jenny, I meant to thank you for offering to put my business cards at your shop. Can I ask how you got started with your business? I’m running my event planning gig out of my living room and still working a day job.”

Now this is a topic I could talk about all day. “I didn’t know I had it in me until I was fed up enough with low raises at my old job.” I share about the Reddit forum and the Derby business grant. I tell them about Annabelle and the salon.

“It’s brilliant.” Gina gestures at me with her spoon. “A hair salon at an auto shop. I’d go there.” She replaces the spoon with her phone and taps away at the screen. “Hey, so your shop website says the waiting area is a salon, but from what I see, it’s not like, part of the experience.”

“Annabelle runs her own website. They’re separate businesses.” Honestly, I’m glad she’s laid off asking about Chase.

“But both together is an experience. I found the salon website. It is so cute.”

“I want to see.” Ameriel angles to see her screen.

The two of them fawn over Annabelle’s colorful and lively site, while my repair shop website offers a functional and informative “experience.” Because it’s a repair shop.

“This salon has good branding with this retro vibe,” Ameriel says.

Gina pokes my shoulder. Like an actual poke. “How is business? You should have a wait list with this concept. You should have women driving in from all over Detroit and raving to their friends. And why don’t you have more Instagram followers?”

“Hey, I delegated social media to a Gen Z.” I hate that I used Chase’s delegation insight as a rebuttal.

“You should be doing more video.”

“I’m running a repair shop. What, do you want me out live with the Beast?”

Her eyes widen. “Who’s the Beast? Is he hot?”

“He’s an orange truck.”

“Like a big, hulking man truck?”

“Like a tow truck truck.”

This does not impress Gina, nor should it. She doesn’t even know its clown origins.

Ameriel returns to her tea. “Let’s give Jenny some breathing room. Gina, you know your social media, but I’m telling you, running a business is extremely consuming.”

“You’re right, my apologies.” Gina props her elbows on the table.

“I’m going to be real here. Sometimes I feel like I’m ‘just a mom.’ It’s rewarding and also the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

If I’m critical, it’s because, I don’t know, I want to do something big too.

There are days I say the word ‘potty’ more than any adult woman should.

Sometimes I wish I had an outlet for all my ideas. ”

The word delegate echoes in my head. I almost blurt out that she can run the social media for me, but how would I pay her? “Running a business is hard,” I admit. “What scares me is that it’s all on me. I can’t fail or people lose their jobs.”

Gina shrugs. “Jobs are jobs. It happens sometimes when businesses go under.” I gasp and Gina levels a look at me. “I’m not saying you’re going to fail, but when you say you can’t fail, I feel like there’s more there than what you’re saying.”

What could be worse than costing someone their job? That I’m responsible for? “I don’t know what you mean.”

“If you failed, what else would happen?” Gina asks.

“I don’t know, I’d go bankrupt? Isn’t that bad enough?”

Ameriel places a hand over her heart. “When I find myself saying I can’t do something, there’s usually a deeper reason. The reason might be emotional, not rational. Our group has done a lot of emotional work together. Gina is coming from a good place.”

Well, I don’t feel good. I’m not familiar with the group therapy part of yoga retreats. I came here today for eggs.

But these women aren’t turning their nose up at me or switching the topic to where they dock their yacht. They seem to care.

“Why can’t you fail, Jenny?” Ameriel’s question is calm but direct.

And that’s when I burst into tears.