I clearly did a poor job of hiding my fear because she burst out laughing until she snorted. "You should see your face." She looked at me again then bent over, giggling uncontrollably. "I promise, my cooking has improved in the last two years. I took some classes."
I tried not to cringe. I wasn't sure classes would help. Sierra was a disaster in the kitchen. She was one of the smartest women I knew, but even working from a recipe, she couldn't make simple dishes like meatloaf or fried chicken. I'd even been witness to her scorching canned soup.
I opted for physical safety over honesty and said, "Sounds great."
"Your enthusiasm is overwhelming," Sierra commented. Her tone was as dry as mine had been.
I shrugged one shoulder. "Until I see the evidence, I'm withholding judgment."
"No, you're not!" Sierra exclaimed.
I grabbed my purse out of my desk, ushered her out of my office, and locked the door behind us.
"Okay, so I'll try harder."
She scoffed but didn't argue.
We walked down the short hall that lead from my office to the main part of the store. There was a bathroom to one side and a small supply closet on the other. When we emerged from the hallway, I saw a tall, male figure standing at the huge shop window at the front, his hands cupped around his eyes so he could see inside.
"Who is that?" Sierra asked, her voice warm with interest.
"Benjamin Murphy," I replied.
"Wait, Murphy. Murphy? How do I know that name?"
"You're thinking of Brody Murphy, J.J.'s best friend."
We drew closer to the front door and Ben spotted us. He waved and walked to the entrance, waiting outside as I unlocked the door and let Sierra exit before me.
"Hey, Cam," he greeted me, but his eyes were on Sierra.
Sierra was shorter than me, but she had curves. She rarely worked out but had a gorgeous hourglass figure. Life wasn't fair. I was in great shape because I either ran, practiced yoga, or lifted weights nearly every day, but I would never look like a 1950's pin-up the way Sierra did.
I wasn't surprised by the way Ben eyed her. Everywhere we went, men stared at her. Between the stacked bod and the thick, black-framed glasses she wore, Sierra was the epitome of men's fantasies; a hot, nerdy girl that went from buttoned-up to bombshell with one toss of her hair.
While Sierra enjoyed the attention from time-to-time, nothing pissed her off more than a man who was so focused on her physical appearance that he had no appreciation for her intelligence or twisted sense of humor.
My best friend was brilliant and gorgeous, but all those wonderful characteristics masked the fact that she was, well, a handful. Considering who my brother was, that was saying something.
I turned back to lock the door before I answered Ben.
"Hey, Ben. This is my friend and business partner, Sierra."
Sierra held out her hand and gave Ben's hand a firm shake. "Nice to meet you."
The glimmer of interest in his eyes intensified as he stared down at her and he grinned. "That's some handshake."
Sierra raised an eyebrow at him and I knew he'd already taken one step toward pissing her off. "Well, I practice a lot," she stated, deadpan.
Ben's grin widened and I bit back a sigh. Sierra's biting wit could be challenging and Ben never backed down from a challenge.
This wouldn't turn into a shitshow. No way. Everything would be just fine.
I braced myself to intervene when Ben opened his mouth and said, "Practice makes perfect. But it's a pleasure to meet you too."
He said it sincerely and without a hint of smarm. Not that Ben was smarmy, but he could lay the charm on pretty thick. It worked well for him in Farley, but Sierra was immune to smooth talkers. She preferred intelligent, funny men to hunks with muscles and dimples.
He released her hand and turned to me. "I actually came by to talk to you," he said to me.
