“Neal knew before you ever walked through the door he was going to offer you the job.” He stood and hefted up his niece, balancing her on one hip with practiced ease. “The interview was a waste of time and money. So’s this made-up position.”
Lily narrowed her eyes at the man as her blood boiled. So much for being gorgeous—his personality was on par with a sewer rat’s. And despite Neal’s offer for Sullivan to join the interview, this man wasn’t wearing a company-branded shirt or a name tag, so what the hell was his problem?
“You seem to have a lot of opinions for someone I’ve never met.”
“Neal researched you since he loved your résumé. We even watched your live stream yesterday, and all you were doing was dancing around your apartment.”
Oh God, they saw that?Lily’s heartbeat thundered in her ears, and she swallowed a breath. “I was notjustdancing around my apartment. Think of it as community engagement. One of my followers was teaching me the proper way toWobblesince everyone on Hit It does it the weird Gen Z way.”
He blinked slowly, his jaw working up into an even tighter clench.
Lily crossed her arms over her chest. “You have no idea what any of that means, do you?”
“I know ‘Wobbling’ won’t revitalize this gym.”
“I somehow doubt your sparkling personality is winning anyone over, either.” She shoved the sticky wet wipes into his hand and marched past him, her chin tilted up in the air. “Feel free to wear some ballet slippers to work on Monday. I don’t want to dance in my first promo video all alone.”
She didn’t wait for his reply. Once she turned the corner of the hall, Lily all but ran to the front doors and out to the street.
What a fucking douche canoe.
And here she’d thought staying single for almost a year would have helped her internal compass point toward nice men. Nope! Despite all the therapy, her jerk magnet was fully functional.
And to top it all off, she had to take public transit back to her apartment while covered in peanut butter.
Stopped at a red beacon from crossing the street, Lily retrieved her phone from her purse and shot off a text to her group chat with Alex and Natalia.
Got the job but need a drink, maybe three. Anyone free tonight?
If there was anyone in this world who wouldn’t let her down, it would be her best friends. Family, lovers, jobs—they all came and went. Friendship was forever.
ChapterTwo
“Ballet slippers,” Kieran growled under his breath and slid an old casserole dish from the oven. The buttery scent of mashed potatoes layered over ground beef and veggies might have been enough to lift his mood if the new hire’s words weren’t still ringing in his ears.I don’t want to dance in my first promo video all alone, she’d said. He didn’t care how hot she’d looked dancing around in those tiny shorts on Hit It and how just as affected he’d been seeing her wrapped up in a hip-hugging skirt and silky blouse. He’d root for the Cubs before he’d ever consider dancing for some ridiculous app.
A pale hand squeezed his forearm, the palms smooth from being coated in massage oils all day and still smelling of lavender. “Are we going to sit down and eat, or would you like to stare at your cottage pie a little longer?”
Kieran lifted his head and shot his sister a half-hearted glare. Maeve still wore her work uniform: a purple polo with a lotus blossom on the logo, nondescript black athletic pants and black slip-on sneakers. The auburn flyaways framing her face were a testament to how rough her day had been. Usually, she picked up Saoirse at the gym after work, but her appointments had beenshuffled throughout the day to take on those of another massage therapist who’d called in sick.
Rather than answer her, he closed the oven door and carried dinner to the table. It was a worn old thing, but it was solid. Since he’d rescued it from a musty thrift shop, his younger family members had left their marks on it. Coffee rings from Maeve’s late-night studying sessions. Stray flecks of color from Shauna’s art he hadn’t had the time or energy to remove then but were now immortalized as tattoos in the wood grain. Countless hours of Danny toiling over middle school math homework until he raised his grades, his answers carved into the wood from not putting a folder under his paper. A sealed crack on one of the legs from when Saoirse turned his dining room into her very own Slip ’N Slide with a large bottle of olive oil. There were more memories ingrained in that table than Kieran could remember of his own childhood.
And we’re better for it.
“Dinner’s ready!” Maeve called.
Saoirse was the first to arrive, even after doubling back to turn off the television at her mother’s gentle reminder. Maeve settled in after she finished arranging the flatware. Danny skulked in last, bleary-eyed and scowling.
“Cottage pie? Can’t we have normal dinners like everyone else?” He snatched his cup off the table, taking a long drink.
Kieran kept his mouth shut as he served. Normal was relative, and Danny only wanted to get a rise out of him. Complain, lash out, sulk. He could count on his younger brother to act every bit the sullen teen he’d grown to be at fifteen.
“Come on, Danny. It was Daideo’s favorite,” Maeve soothed. She tapped Saoirse’s plate, and Saoirse’s bottom lip quivered.
Their grandfather had died when Kieran was a few years younger than Danny, taking with him the last scraps of parentalaffection Kieran had ever known. But Daideo lived on in the way Kieran protected his siblings and his niece. No matter how many years or miles separated them, the Sullivan kids would always have a home.
Saoirse wiggled out of her seat next to Maeve and scooted onto his lap.
“Saoirse, let Uncle Kier eat.”
