I wasn’t going to take up a seat tonight, but with my mom and dad in town, I joined them. I don’t know how things are going for Madison because I’ve forced myself to stay out of her kitchen, even though I’m dying to see how it’s going back there. Plates are coming out pretty slow, but no one minds. Tonight is for supporting Madison and the farm.
But I know how much she wants to blow everyone away. Prove herself. So I’m on pins and needles.
And where the hell is Tommy?
I pat my pockets for my phone and then remember leaving it in my truck.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell my parents and head for the parking lot. When the door opens, a few sparse cameras flash before the paparazzi realize I’m nobody and aim their lenses at the ground, sinking back against the wall again to wait for Amelia to leave.
Just as I’m closing my truck door, phone in hand, a BMW whirlsinto the parking lot. It’s black instead of white. A rental, of course. A whole new car for a whole new return every time.
Tommy shuts the car door with a smirk that immediately pisses me off. Also annoying—his linen pants.
“Finally find some balls to face me?” I ask, leaning into my bad mood stemming from his late arrival.
He pushes his sunglasses into his hair and shrugs. “I don’t know. Did you finally grow a pair big enough to discuss your feelings like an adult?”
We meet halfway between the parking lot and the restaurant entrance. Out of range of the cameras, but not out of sight. He knows that too.
“That was so low, Tommy—dumping everything on me and Dad, then ghosting. You knew what kind of hell you were leaving me to clean up and you left anyway. Just like always.”
“Oh, fuck you. Don’t act like I’m some unhelpful son or brother who disappears when people need him.”
“That’sexactlywhat you did! Skipping town is your favorite hobby.”
“Have you ever stopped to ask yourself why?! You don’t exactly make it conducive to stay. I have acquaintances who care about me more than you do.”
I cross my arms. “That’s the shittiest excuse I’ve ever heard. You’ve done nothing but complain about this town and this farm since we were kids. Forgive me if I don’t feel like laying down rose petals to make you comfier while you’re here dumping drama on the family before you vanish again.”
Our voices are getting louder.
“You need to get over yourself,” he says.
“And you need to grow the hell up.”
That sets him off. “Grow up? I’m the one who flew our parents home, James, because I knew you needed them here. I’m the onewho finally said what you’ve been too chickenshit to say for months! I’m the one who reached out to AFD on your behalf!”
“You made everything more difficult.”
“Did I?!” The tendons in his neck are straining against his throat as he yells, aiming his hand at the restaurant. “Because from what Dad told me, you guys made up, you’re taking the contract, and you’ve been staying over at a certain chef’s cottage every night. Seems to be a lot less difficult from where I stand.”
My hand balls into a fist at my side. Distantly, I’m aware of the paparazzi’s attention shifting in our direction. “Because I cleaned up your mess! You basically threw a brick through a window and I’ve been sweeping up the glass.”
“What I did was light a fire under you! You were content to drown in stress just like you’ve silently mooned over Madison for years until I put pressure on you!”
That comment cuts through the tension, like a dart thrown at a map. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” My voice is a low warning.
One he doesn’t seem to heed.
He smirks, defiantly. “You still don’t get it, do you? You really think I’ve been trying to win her over?”
My blood simmers.
“You told me you liked her. You toldheryou liked her.”
“I do like Madison. Just not like that.” He has the nerve to look proud. As if he’s pulled off a heist.
I blink, feeling my skin crack from the heat bubbling under it. “So . . . what? This has all been some twisted game to get me to admit I’m in love with Madison?”
