I thought about him in those perfectly tailored maroon pants that should have seemed too effeminate on him and instead gave him the sense that he had great style for a single guy. Paired with his long sleeve cream Henley and a pair of expensive throwback Nikes, his look was well put together.
And that annoyed me for some reason.
I wanted him to smell like hemp oil and have a secret beer gut. He’d hurt my feelings in the kitchen. He’d trampled on my dreams and mocked me. He’d done the one thing I found to be totally and utterly unforgivable—he hadn’t taken me seriously.
“I didn’t realize your brother was such a dick,” I told Vera as we stacked plates after the cake had been poked at, complained about, and inevitably devoured.
“Who? Vann?”
I gave her a look. “Do you have another brother?”
She laughed and twirled the engagement ring on her finger. “No. Just the one brother.” She cleared her throat uncomfortably. I realized I’d offended her.
“Oh, no. I’ve made you mad. I’m sorry, Vera! I was just joking. I definitely didn’t mean that he was—”
“Oh, gosh,” she cut me off. “Please stop apologizing. He’s totally a dick. Especially to people he doesn’t know. When he first opened his bike business, my dad and I would make bets on the kind of complaints he was bound to get. He’s just… really smart. And I think that makes him a gigantic douchebag sometimes. Also, he’s super cheap. And his frugality comes across as asshole-ish. And honestly, he’s terrible at dating. Like the worst. I can’t remember the last time he’s been on a second date. Girls flee from his presence. Er, not at first, obviously. He manages to get them to go out with him. But as soon as they’ve ordered drinks, they start sending emergency texts and SOSs to anyone who will answer their cries for rescue.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at her brother’s expense. “But you’re so wonderful,” I told her.
She beamed at me. “I know.”
“It’s why he’s still single then? Women are terrified of him?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes. And he keeps dating nice girls. They’re no good for him. He needs someone with tenacity. The kind of girl that won’t get chewed up and spit out before they’ve gotten to second base. I tell him all the time to stop dating good girls. Find someone with a police record or something. Or at least a misdemeanor. But does he listen to me? No. No he does not.”
“Good luck to him then,” I muttered beneath my breath.I know good girls, he’d said to me.And you, Dillon Baptiste, are a good girl to the core.
I chewed on my bottom lip and let the insult wash over me again. He wasn’t just saying I wasn’t a good enough chef for Bianca, he was telling me I wasn’t good enough for him either.
Well, fuck you, Vann Delane.
I’m awesome.
And more than qualified for Bianca.
And way better than anyone you’ve dated before.
So, take that.
Fighting the urge to cover my face with my hands and scream, I shot Vera a wobbly smile and turned my attention back to the remnants of cake scattering the cart. “I need to grab something to wipe this down with.”
“I’ll get it!” she volunteered, stepping back toward the kitchen. “This is your celebration. Relax for now. You’ll be working your tail off soon.”
Too soon, I thought, but I kept my mouth shut.
Wyatt bumped my shoulder with his as soon as Vera was gone. “I’m going to need your formal two-week notice in writing, if you don’t mind.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Afraid not,” he sighed. “But you see, it’s not me. My boss is a real stickler for the rules. He’s going to require a handwritten letter, no less than five thousand words, with an additional essay on the value of market price fresh fish versus shipping in stock from a conglomerate.”
“You’re so full of shit,” I told him.
He grinned at me. “It’s funny because you think I’m joking.”
I rolled my eyes. “Then I guess you’re just going to have to keep me. No job in the world is worth all that.”
His head tipped back and he let out a bark of laughter. “Willing to give up your fancy new position so easily? I thought you had more moxie than that, Baptiste.”
