“You look familiar. Have we met?”
“N-no.” Jake shoots me another death glare.
I reach for the Dom and top off my glass.
Simon snaps his fingers. “Last weekend. At the burger bus. You were the chap who—sorry. I didn’t recognize you without—” He pauses and gestures to his face.
I barely stifle a whimper as Jake’s face goes even redder than the ketchup I made him wear last weekend.
This isn’t good.
This isnot good.
If Simon can recognize a man without ketchup on his face, Simon knows who he is.
He’s probably known all night.
I should not have done this.
Yes, you should’ve,I hear Daphne’s voice whisper.Jake fucking stole this from you. Did the man ever love you at all? Or did he just use you?
I know the answer to that.
The answer is that he used me.
He saw where Griff’s career was headed, saw the publicity coming toward our family, wanted to use it for his real estate business, and then saw a bigger opportunity when I told him about my dad’s dreams.
Jake deserves every bad thing he has coming to him.
Simon holds out a hand. “Good to meet you, old chap. Call me Simon.”
“S—Simon. Right.” Jake shakes too hard, which you can tell from the way Simon’s body jerks. “Simon, I am absolutely your biggest fan.”
Tank starts to move.
“He is,” I agree, as if Daph’s speaking for me. Or Hudson. Or Ryker. Or Griff, who hasn’t been as outwardly pissed as my other two brothers at the situation with Jake, but he’d probably go along with this too. “Jake would have Peter Jones’s babies.”
Simon’s eyelid twitches as he extricates his hand from Jake’s before Tank can take down my ex-boyfriend. “That’s a new level of dedication. I appreciate the support.”
Jake obviously can’t figure out what to do with his hands now that he’s not shaking Simon’s. He’s probably contemplating never washing them again.
“We have better tables,” Jake says. “More private tables. We thought—someone else was coming. Someone less important.”
Oh, barf.
Okay.
This is helping my regrets.
Simon looks between me and Jake. “I have no objection to this table. Bea? Any problems?”
I smile back as nerves make my belly gurgle.
He knows.
He has to know, but he doesn’t seem fazed by it at all.
“Great view,” I say. “Several witnesses. I’m good here.”
