“He’s trying to be the good guy and not live up to the stereotype.”
Betsy hums beside me as she starts to arrange her vegetables on her tray.
“Jackson sounds skittish.”
I look at her with furrowed brows. “No, not skittish, just… nervous.” I chew my bottom lip before I say, “He’s never met anyone like Arthur before and he’s hisboss, so you know… that’s a little stressful for Jackson to think about.”
Lola cocks her head to the side. “Why is that stressful? What is Jackson afraid will happen?”
Betsy glances at me, then at Lola. “My guess is he’s afraid of losing his job if things don’t work out. Is that right, Jake?”
I catch her gaze, all humor gone. She’s serious, and I almost feel like she can see right through me. Through my rouse. But then I remember there’s no way she could know that.
It’s just paranoia, anxiety.
“Something like that.”
Lola groans. “Wow. I guess when you put it that way, no wonder you're stuck.”
I sigh. “Yeah. Tell me about it. But, um… if it matters, Arthur kissed Jackson,” I say calmly, focusing back on my cheese. I steal a piece of Manchego and Betsy doesn’t smack my hand, and I’m more than grateful.
“Did Jackson kiss him back?” Lola presses. “Because that definitely matters.”
Shannon shakes her head.
“I’m sure Jake will work it out, Lo. He’s the one writing the book after all,” Betsy says.
I let out a nervous laugh. “Writing isn’t always that simple.” I admit.
Writing. Relationships. Lies. None of it is as simple as you think it’s going to be.
“Well, you’re the author. Don’t you know how the story progresses and ends?” Shannon asks.
I purse my lips. “Um… not really. Sometimes you think you can predict how a story will end, but then the story takes on a life of its own.”
I don’t actually know, but I’ve heard a few authors say this, so it seems like a suitable tidbit to lean on.
“Mmm. That is true.” Betsy hums. “True love is like that, too,” Betsy says with a soft smirk, looking at me and then at Lola. “It’s unpredictable.”
Lola goes back to her phone. “Just saying it matters,” she murmurs.
The door opens, and I look up to see Aaron, carrying three bags of groceries, his dark hair blown about, and my heart stops.
“Yeah, I guess it is,” I say as he saunters over and drops off the groceries. He pulls out two bottles and sets them on the counter in front of me.
“Didn’t know which one you’d want, so I made the executive decision and got you both.”
Shannon grins. “Smart man.”
Lola peers over my shoulder and he looks up at her. “Don’t even think about it, Lo.”
I glance at the bottles. One looks like it says bergamot and jasmine and the other says vanilla and caramel. I look at the bottles, then at Lola and gently turn them to face her so she can read the labels.
“Which one do you want?”
Her face lights up like the Fourth of July, and her grin is contagious. I can’t help but smile, too.
She grabs the vanilla one with excitement.
