Looks like she got a phone call.
Who’s she talking to? What’s it about? Should I go out there right now and apologize?
I need to rip off that bandage. Just do it. Get it over with.
“You know you have zero chance with her if you destroy her café, right?” Zen says from the landing above me.
I jump. “I don’t date.”
“Everyone else at that speed dating meeting thought you left because you don’t people well,” they say. “But you can’t fool me. And you’re in over your head with thisSuper Villain Manbullshit. No shame in changing course, Uncle Grey. No matter what changing course looks like.”
I know this.
They know I know this.
And they know I won’t strike back for their brutal honesty.
“Has Sabrina found anything yet?” I ask.
“If she had, don’t you think she would’ve told you?”
Fair enough.
Fuck.
22
Sabrina
Work isas uncomfortable as it’s ever been Saturday morning.
Grey’s being nice to me.
Nicemight not be the right word.
He’s actually been mostly pleasant in the nearly two weeks since he got here. Or he’s been the irresistible hottie who keeps doing all the right things to make me want to kiss him again.
Since the gazebo, I feel like we’ve been playing this game ofwho will break first, and how much will we both enjoy it?
Like it’s inevitable that we’ll try to work this out between the sheets, even though it won’t give either of us what we want outside of a bedroom.
But the bigger problem?
He’s acting like he doesn’t know what I did yesterday.
Which either means he’sthatgood, or he actually doesn’t know.
Not like I had a lot of options.
Icannotfind a damn thing on Chandler.
And I’m not bothering Emma with that question when I’ve been pussyfooting around debating with myself if I want to talk to her.
Midmorning, when I drop off a fresh tea at his seat—which I would do for any regular, for the record—he stops me. “Hold on a second.”
“Don’t like chai anymore?”
“Hmm? Oh, no. Chai is perfect. Thank you. I just got the bill for last week’s food delivery.”
