No one will be able to tell Grey that I’m sabotaging him.
No one will be able to tell him I don’t want this place to succeed.
But also, hopefully no one tells him about Silver Horn, because now thatwe’re sharing a walloff-hours, Ineedthe speakeasy to stay a secret.
Ineedthe place I can go when I need to let my guard down. And with Laney and Theo in the throes of young love and Emma possibly never talking to me again, it’s the best I’ve got when it’s too late to bother Grandpa or my mom.
I’m scouring the grill controls with a toothbrush when I feel a presence behind me. Instead of turning, I start singing along with the radio.
“You arenotthat happy to be scrubbing a grill,” Zen says.
“I love this place. I’ll do anything to make it shine.”
“Even though it’s not yours anymore?”
“It hasn’t been mine since my mom sold her share to Chandler’s parents. So this isn’t much different than it was a month ago.”
There’s silence, and I don’t know if Zen’s deciding if they want to ask more questions, and if so, which one first, or if Zen’s deciding to walk away.
Did Grey assume that Chandler sold the café on behalf of the whole family and split the proceeds with us? Does Zen think the same?
I angle a glance at the silver back above the grill.
Zen’s blurry reflection is still there.
They want the tea.
“Mom wanted me to go to college,” I say. “We were in that spot where her regular profits from the café—moderate as they were, considering they were split three ways—on top of her income as a stylist pushed us into a tax bracket that got lower financial aid, but if she sold her part to her brother, I’d leave school with fewer loans. So she sold her third of Bean & Nugget to her brother.”
“What did you major in?”
“Communication.”
They make a noise that’s clearly a stifled laugh.
“I know,” I say. “Already mastered that. I should’ve been like one of my other cousins and studied engineering or nursing.”
“Why’d you hook up with Uncle Grey in Hawaii knowing you were just going to ghost him the next morning?”
Hello, direct questions. I pause in my scrubbing to turn and look them straight on. “I didn’t head out that night with the intention of hooking up with anyone. All I wanted to do was make up for some of the bad that I did to one of my best friends by spreading some kindness in the world. He was supposed to be a random stranger I saved from an awkward situation at a bar, and instead, he was funny and charming and impossible to resist when he insisted on helping me do a few more good deeds.”
They don’t look like they believe me. Whether becausefunny and charming and impossible to resistdoesn’t fit their view of Grey or because they don’t want to believe me is anyone’s guess.
“I ghosted him because I was a supporting character in the viral video of the day, and he either hadn’t seen it or he didn’t recognize me or he was kind enough to pretend he hadn’t. I thought he deserved way better than someone like me who was a complete and total disaster, but he was just soniceabout wanting to know me better. I thought I was doing him a kindness in making a clean break. I left a note so he wouldn’t worry.”
They’re studying me like they’ve sworn a blood oath of loyalty to the man who’s apparently way more grumpy than he let on when we were in Hawaii and don’t want to consider that I’m not the bad guy.
“And in case he left this part out,” I add softly, “he gave me his dog’s name as his own first.”
They visibly startle. “Did he actually tell you about Duke?”
“No. Everyone in town is super curious who he is, and someone sent me a picture of him and the dog off his Instagram.”
Now I’m getting the eyeball ofso it’s true. You’re the town gossip.“Someone sent you a picture. You didn’t go digging yourself.”
“I’m off gossip.”
“I hear youarethe gossip.”
