Page 106 of Shark’s Pride

“Yeah,” I replied, already knowing I rushed the snap. “Ummm, yeah,” I repeated, hoping to correct the damage. “Just looks like the routine lunch orders today. Nothing new from the website either. Should be pretty smooth sailing.”

“I meant with you, silly.” She turned and faced me, hands planted on her slender hips. “Nice deflecting though.”

I shrugged sheepishly. “It was worth a try.”

“So.” She clapped her hands. “The event went really well yesterday, yeah?”

“It absolutely did,” I declared. “Thanks, in no small part, to you. I can’t thank you enough for all your help, sister.”

“Just doing my job.” As she pulled back, a wide smile graced her bow-shaped lips. “And loving every second of it, I might add. I would’ve never guessed this would be something I enjoyed as much as I do.”

“I’m thrilled to hear that, honey. Seriously, that makes my heart happy.”

“Well…I’m glad something is this morning,” she volleyed.

“What do you mean?” Maybe playing dumb would work better the second time around.

“Okay, cut the crap, Abbigail. This is me you’re talking to.” She jogged her chin with fiery fervor. “Outside of your brothers, who knows you better than I do?”

“Fine. You have a definite point there.” I sighed.

“Bet your ass I do.” She leaned back against the counter. Folded her arms. “So spill it.”

“I think I’m going to take a pass for right now. I’m so tired. Maybe later, though, okay?”

“Okay,” she murmured. “You’ve got all the space you need. But I can only assume this is about your man, which means you’re still sorting stuff out. But I’m here when you’re ready to talk.”

“I know.” And I did—though to be honest, I still wasn’t convinced she’d stay objective enough to give me solid advice.

“I think I have the steak and roasted veggie salad handled. Will you work on the pasta?” I looked to Rio for confirmation. We often made a salad, pasta, and chicken option for our lunch regulars to choose from each day. Trying to keep the menu exciting, cost-effective on our end, and manageable—given the packaging and delivery constraints we dealt with—were just a few of the challenges of running a successful catering business. Eventually, if Abstract Catering became the in-house food service at the Edge, we’d have to think long and hard about continuing our lunch delivery offering. Our loyal customers helped us get where we were today, but managing a storefront that served three meals a day would completely change our business model.

The laptop computer binged. There was an incoming message on the computer program we used for order processing.

Rio, currently closer to the desk, yelled, “I got it!”

I checked on the meat but kept an eye on her too, hoping it wasn’t a significant last-minute change. “Anything earth-shattering?” I queried.

She was already busy typing out a brisk reply. She wasn’t amending with any exasperated groans or sighs, so I was hopeful. “Oh, this has your name written all over it,” she finally commented.

“Dare I ask?” I said while portioning field greens into plastic containers.

“It’s from Shark’s assistant. She’s requesting we modify the route so theirs is your last delivery.”

Your last delivery.

I gritted my teeth as her last three words turned into ringing commands. Just like that, asking her to cover the lunch run was officially off the table.

“So what did you tell her?” I managed to keep my emotion out of my tone. Barely.

“I said it was fine. I mean, it is, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, sure.” I shrugged with more forced insouciance. “Sebastian probably just has a meeting.”

But like the veiled taunts from Terryn’s message, my churning stomach warned me otherwise. I set the bowl of greens down with a clatter before cradling my face in my hands. Please, no tears. No tears. No tears.

Before I could pull myself together, Rio had rushed to my side. She tugged my hands away from my face. “Hey,” she crooned. “What’s going on?”

“Wh-What if he breaks up with me?” My voice squeaked pitifully on the terrifying admission. The damn thing had been like an ocean undertow. I’d battled it so hard, only to learn that fighting pulled me under faster. “Oh, God…” I couldn’t believe I’d said it aloud—which made the possibility that much more real. “Is that…do you think…that’s why he wants to see me at the end of the run?”