Holly
“She what?” Rowan asks, almost dropping the beer he’s holding.
“You heard me right,” I say. “Aren’t you glad I gave you a drink before I sat you down?”
He got home about fifteen minutes after I did, after being out on a call to—I shit you not—save a kitten from a tree. This guy. Half the time my brother’s all bullshit and bluster, but he’ll also go out of his way to help a kitten…and answer his shitty grandmother’s call just because she’s also a little old lady.
I got us both a beer and sat him down for story time.
“Just be grateful Cole and I handled it so you didn’t have to.”
He gives me a pinched-lips expression that makes him look like he has to use the bathroom. It reminds me that I haven’t yet changed out of Cole’s sweats. I’d rather not examine my reasons.
“You know, they say Dulcolax does wonders for constipation,” I tell Rowan. “You should look into it.”
“Hardee-har-har.” He waves a hand at me, his jaw flexing. “I take it you went through with your plan?”
“Are you sure you want to talk about me fucking Cole? Because I am just dying to tell someone about the—”
“Nope,” he says, cutting me off. “Forget I mentioned it. He helped you with Nana, though?”
Something lurches inside me. Because Coledidhelp. He didn’t even hesitate, and let’s be honest, dealing with my grandmother isn’t something that excites anyone, yours truly included. One could argue he did it for Harry, but I’m pretty sure he didn’t, given he didn’t know him before tonight.
“Maybe he felt it was his duty as a bartender,” I say with a shrug, but I don’t truly believe it. He did it for me, although I’m not entirely sure what that means, or if it means anything. Because he also seemed pretty eager to get rid of me after the whole episode.
Rowan grunts. “So Harry’s not taking the job, huh?”
“Oh, he most definitely is.”
Rowan’s expression shifts to disbelief, and he rubs his beard. “He screwed in the head?”
“What, are you suddenly doubting your matchmaking plan?”
“Holly, I swear to God, if you tell Oliver—”
I wave him off. I’ve barely even seen his friend Oliver for weeks, mostly because Rowan and I seem to have silently agreed that we see each other more than enough at the house, and there’s no need for us to also be conjoined outside of it.
“I wouldn’t. And no, I don’t think he’s screwed in the head. The reason he’s sticking with it is at least partially because of who the first contestant is.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Well? I’m not into your dramatic pauses.”
“It’s Zach’s sister,” I say with plenty of drama.
“Zach? As in Zach from Tea of Fortune?”
I roll my eyes. “You know literally one Zach.”
“Shit,” he says, lifting his eyebrows. “He must be pissed.”
“He’s not happy, no. Harry says she’s doing it for noble reasons.”
He scoffs. “You expect me to believe she’s going on a TV show calledMatchmaking the Richfor noble reasons?”
“Don’t shoot the messenger.” I shrug. “I guess she wants to bring visibility to this non-profit she works for. Anyway, Harry doesn’t want to leave her in Nana’s clutches…you know, for obvious reasons.”
He accedes the point with a slight nod. “Okay, I can understand that.”
There’s something pinched about his expression though, like he really might need some Dulcolax.
