“Glass is there, Remi.” Gunnar placed one of the glasses near Remi’s elbow.
Obviously, this was something which happened often, as Remi kept his eye on the oil he was filling into the pot and snagged the glass with one hand. “Thanks.”
If Jorja tried that, she’d be mopping wine off the floor for sure. She glanced at the almost empty wine bottle and decided it was ridiculous to put a finger width of wine back in the fridge, and topped off the one remaining glass on the counter. She wasn’t going to worry if it was rude not to offer it to the others or not.
I’ve had a bad day. I’m drinking the freaking wine.
When I finish this glass, I might even go back for more.
Dealing with Jerk-God might be a lot easier if I’m drunk.
“Have a seat.” Gunnar apparently had found an ounce of manners somewhere. Wouldn’t his momma be so proud? He even pulled out a chair for her.
Because it was awkward just standing there like a plank, Jorja sat down. She eyed Gunnar warily as he went back to his chair at the top of the table. Silence filled by the music from the sound system stretched between them. Just when she’d started to relax and sip on her wine, the asshole had to go and stop it by asking a question.
“So.” Gunnar twirled the glass in his hand. “What it is you do, exactly?”
Why the heck couldn’t he read the room? The last thing she wanted was him judging her life choices. “I’m in acquisitions.” That sounded like a reasonable way to describe what she did, right? “Antiques, paintings, stuff like that.” Gunnar’s glower screamed doubtful. She wondered if he knew how expressive his face was.
“You know what you do is illegal, right?”
What a jerk!
“No, it’s not.” If it wouldn’t be a waste of the perfectly good grapes who’d died to make this wine, she’d consider throwing the whole glass at him. Instead, she made do with throwing him the dirtiest look she could muster. “I’m not stealing anything,” she insisted. “I’m not selling anything either for that matter. I’m just finding obscure stuff and telling the people with money where to find them.” Once she’d built up her indignation, she wasn’t able to stop herself from adding on, “You are an asshole if you think I’d do something illegal. I’m not stupid and I do have morals, fuck you very much.”
“Could have fooled me.” The asshole’s feathers weren’t even ruffled. “It was a stupid move to come to Italy and try to locate us. Especially because of a list you know nothing about.”
Oh, she felt like an idiot alright. There wasn’t a need for him to point it out to her. “Don’t I know it. I only wanted to help.” She sipped some wine, striving for patience she didn’t feel. “My freaking bad. If I hadn’t recognizedyourname, I wouldn’t have bothered.”
Slapping that smirk off his face would be reasonable… right?
If not, it should be.
Remi chose that moment to drop the fries into the hot oil. The sizzling and hissing noise was the perfect backdrop to the temper she could feel bubbling inside her. Jorja glanced over her shoulder to see him pulling a red tub from a cupboard and latched onto the opportunity to change the subject. “Is that the sauce?”
“Yup.” Remi spooned some of it into a pot, closed the tub, and handed it to her. “We get it sent from Ireland, because it’s the only place you can get it.” He took a whisk from a utensil stand and started whipping the saucepan. “It’s not spicy. It’skinda fruity.”
She didn’t care if it was burn her tastebuds off hot, McDonnells curry powder for the subject changing win.
“Someone grab the mango chutney,” Remi called over his shoulder. “It’s in the door of the fridge on the middle shelf.”
“I got it.” Jorja was more than willing to help, even if her escape from Gunnar’s intimidating scowl only lasted a couple of seconds.
“Gunnar, quit being a dick,” Remi, bless his cotton socks, clearly saw how uncomfortable she was, and took it upon himself to distract his brother, “and grate the cheddar as Talon used the last of it for lunch.”
“Asshole.” But Gunnar got to his feet and grabbed a metal grater from a hook near the stove. “Who made you boss?”
“Mom, the last time she called,” Remi shot back, “said I was to keep you in line or call her and she’d be on the next flight.”
“If you bring Mom over here, I’ll kick your ass.”
Jorja handed Remi the chutney and went back to her wine at the table. If the brothers were bickering, then Gunnar wasn’t focusing on her. She’d take it. A noise behind her made her glance over her shoulder at the door and she recognized the man who stood there, along with the dog at his side. “Hi.”
“Hey, I’m Talon.” He nodded to her and moved further into the kitchen. She noticed he went around the furthest side of the table rather than pass by her chair, and went to the stove to peer into the pot. “I thought I smelled fries. Is there enough for me?”
“If you peel more potatoes, I’ll fry them,” Remi replied.
“Awesome.” Talon grabbed a handful of potatoes and came to sit at the table in a chair furthest from where she sat. He mostly ignored her and made a start of peeling the potatoes directly onto the table.
