Page 2 of Hot Tea & Bird Calls (Kissing At Work #2)

Celene unwedged her numb feet from her heels beneath the tablecloth, propping them on the bottom bar of her chair.

She and Quinn briefly greeted each other yesterday afternoon, right after brunch.

It’d been the first time they’d spoken since they met up last year, when Quinn hand-delivered her RSVP to Elise’s wedding.

She’d apologized for breaking Celene’s heart and trust and, most scathingly, her sense of security.

Celene – 9:11 pm

What more is there to say?

Nadine – 9:14 pm

I don’t even know. My ex-gfs disappear forever and I love it.

Nadine had been work-summoned early that morning to fill in for her mother, who’d come down with a migraine. Midway through asking about that, the conversation Celene may or may not have initiated found her first.

“Hi, Celene.” Quinn Archer waved with the hand not holding a cocktail, as hesitantly as expected. “Mind if we sit?”

Ramona, the girlfriend, materialized on Celene’s other side. This didn’t give interrogation vibes, fortunately. “We brought a ‘Couple’s Caipirinha’ and a water. Whatever you don’t want, I’ll drink.”

For a second longer than what was probably comfortable, she eyed Ramona.

Doe eyes, lush hair. A smile too brazen for Celene’s tastes, but genial.

Truthfully, they were a stunning couple in their tasteful dresses—both willowy and tall like they’d been cast for an advertisement.

Celene lifted a hand, replying, “I’ll take the alcohol, thanks. ”

They used this as a cue to claim chairs, too, where Ramona blabbered immediately about how “fucking cool” these two days had been.

The bartender had a generous hand. A bit heavy with the cachaca. Celene stifled a satisfied shiver as Ramona yammered. She must’ve fired off two references that Celene couldn’t identify.

Celene and Quinn’s apartment had been what she’d consider ideal—zen, balanced in minimalism, and quiet. A beautiful silence wrapped around the usual hum of the city.

Now, Quinn more than laughed with Ramona. She cackled , much like Quinn’s louder, more chaotic friend Tara, who body rolled on her husband on the dance floor.

It threw Celene off. Her memory of Quinn lacked the firm clutch around Ramona’s elbow while in line for drinks.

Celene listened as well as she could over the music, promising not to come off as strong as her caipirinha. She and Quinn were once unhappy fiancées; Ramona was an innocent party. “You’ve attended six weddings in a year? God, I’m sorry.”

“We don’t mind.” Ramona’s lashes fluttered to Quinn, whose normally modest smile bloomed bright and strangely uninhibited.

“No, we really don’t,” Quinn agreed before sipping from her glass.

They were a ‘ we .’

Ugh. Celene wondered when they started referring to themselves as a unit.

She turned to fully take in her ex, whose high cheekbones and calm presence pulled her hook, line, and sinker five years ago. It almost disturbed Celene how she’d grown immune to it, how those were now window dressing to a closed chapter of her past.

Celene had devoted years to self-reflection, going on solo trips to untether herself from the shadow of her failed engagement.

And it worked . Not only had she released herself of the anger justified when the woman she once trusted moved across the country instead of maturely breaking up, but Quinn no longer seemed like the same person.

Celene bounced a gaze between the couple, at their relaxed postures contrasting with her ramrod straight poise.

Her drink must have delayed her hearing, so Celene cut Ramona off with, “Stop. Quinn participated in a bouquet toss? When?”

Quinn rightfully blushed at a glare Celene couldn’t stoic away, elaborating, “At our friend Shay’s wedding last fall. I don’t know what came over me. She threw the bouquet and...” She imitated pushing sleeves up her bare arms. “I had to have it.”

Celene scoffed. Of all the tedious, asinine traditions, this one stunned her since Quinn and marriage seemed at odds. At least, the Quinn she’d known.

Ramona hyped her up. “Quinn came to play . She almost took out somebody’s auntie like damn, did she train for this?”

“So you caught it.” Celene had to be in the Twilight Zone. She lamented the final sip of her drink. “You squabbled over a bundle of flowers. In public. And won.”

“I think one of my friends recorded it.” Ramona unlocked her phone with her thumb.

More unwanted pictures and photos. Celene gave them what she’d given Brenda. “I have the gist of what happened. That won’t be necessary.”

“Do you want another?” Ramona pointed, sliding the rest of her water across the table to Quinn. “All the work you’ve done, I’m sure you want to catch up.”

Celene could’ve turned her down. Rather, she folded her hands in her lap, nodding. “A Manhattan, thanks.”

“I believe they’re called ‘Big J’s the Man-hattans.’” Ramona snorted as she hopped up from her seat. “Glad I finally got to meet you.”

“Likewise.” She meant it. It demystified who Quinn ultimately chose. And once Ramona stepped into a long line to the bar, Celene eased her face into what she hoped was an unoffensive smirk. “Ramona’s quirky. And talkative.”

“She is,” Quinn affirmed, sighing like those had been her top two love requirements. “You look nice. Elise chose a beautiful palette.”

Celene examined her own dress, her painted nails, appreciating how the dusty rose complemented her brown skin instead of washing her out as she’d feared. “Thank you. You do, too.”

“Are we making you uncomfortable?”

That ‘we’ thing again. “No. I admit it’s hard to reconcile who you were before you left me and the person sitting here now.”

“Have I changed that much?” Quinn swished her dark hair over her shoulder like she’d always done.

Her voice remained familiar, her fingers drifted over the faint texture of the tablecloth per her habit.

And yet. Everything felt alien, virtually sterile between them. They’d been reset to acquaintances.

Celene let a minute or two tick by, noticing her sister and Ajay off in a corner, stealing a kiss behind the DJ booth. A barely-concealed second to themselves. “It’s not bad that you’ve changed, Quinn. Everyone should evolve incrementally.”

Quinn grinned. Probably because she sounded like classic Celene there. “You’re right.”

Metaphorically, if one cut Quinn in half, the cross-section would resemble an angular, sweeping labyrinth.

Fascinating yet frustratingly complex. Even on their best days together, Quinn asked her obviously planned questions in what were supposed to be casual, no-pressure settings.

Celene remembered contemplating, ‘Could I live with these stilted conversations forever?’

Right on time, Quinn recited, “How much input did your parents and in-laws have for the wedding?” with the energy of interview prep.

Celene responded, relieved to spot her brother Donovan and his wife Briana approach their table, each wrangling a whining daughter. Sweet escape, distractions.

Not long after Ramona returned with the ridiculously-named-but-proficiently-mixed cocktail, Celene’s nieces, Fiona and Isolde, regaled them with tales of their hotel hijinks and described every dressy item they wore.

They’d raided the lavish dessert table, tiny teeth sinking into sweets after every sentence.

Meanwhile, Donovan and Briana checked their phones and rubbed their temples. Waiting for the girls’ inevitable sugar crash. Celene smiled. Her people.

Though after Quinn and Ramona moved on to dance, Celene couldn’t concentrate on any conversation or her text messages to Nadine.

She’d never fully understood the woman she once wanted to marry. In her pettier days, Celene wrote it off as a flaw in her ex.

But now, seeing Ramona effortlessly in-tune, navigating the maze that is Quinn without GPS, Celene wondered about her own next steps. How could she evolve if she had no idea what lay ahead?

Celene picked at a favor bag her nieces ransacked—missing bangles, empty dried fruit sachets, autographed headshots of the newlyweds still intact—and paused on a piece of parchment paper. It once held a bem-casado, considering the crumbs and remnants of caramel spread. The ‘Well-Married’ sweet.

She leaned to view the now-empty DJ corner. Elise and Ajay had sneaked off. And it scared her to think it’d be nice to do that with someone, too.