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I scoffed. “Wouldn’t be the first time this week I’ve misjudged a situation,” I mumbled, looking at the packet again.

Brent took another step toward me. “Vanessa, Adrian believes in this. So does Drake.”

I didn’t blame them. I believed in this too.

I nodded. “My answer is yes. I’ll give you as much as you need.”

Brent yelped and Joel crashed into him. They hugged and hooted, spinning around the restaurant.

Drake tipped his head at me. “You can’t give him all of it. What about me? I want to invest too.”

I shook my head, watching Brent and Joel celebrate. “I’m surprised you even let him pitch me. You could have just backed him and had the whole thing to yourself.”

Drake laughed good-naturedly. “I wanted to. I offered it. But it was important to him that you do it.”

I wrinkled my forehead. “Me? Why? I don’t think he cares as long as he gets his money.”

Drake looked amused. “He wants your approval, Vanessa. He wants you to be proud of him. He wants that more than anything. More than the money.”

My smile fell a little.

Did he?

Brent looked over his shoulder at me. His smile was enormous.

Maybe he did want my approval. I couldn’t imagine Dad’s meant much to him.

And I was proud of him. So, so proud. And I decided right there in that moment that I’d always make sure he knew that, as long as I was around to do it.

CHAPTER 21

THE ULTIMATE GUIDE TO ESCAPING THE FRIEND ZONE

ADRIAN

When Vanessa texted that she’d be back in five minutes, it was a full hour later than she said she’d be home. I’d been through a symphony of emotions over the last four hours, none of them good. I’d landed solidly on bad mood and wasn’t planning on changing.

I was hurt that Vanessa said she regretted kissing me and that it was a mistake. I was pissed that she didn’t tell me about Drake. I was jealous, frustrated, and scared I was going to lose her to this guy.

The fucking medicine-woman swaddling…

Grace seemed to like it. I don’t know why this pissed me off more than anything else that had happened today, but it did.

Grace smelled like him—I had to give her a bath. She smelled like incense.

I was at the dining room table on my laptop with a baby monitor next to me trying to get through emails when Vanessa finally let herself into my apartment. I had Harry next to the table in his little dog bed and he raised his head at the sound of her coming in and growled like he was mad at her too.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said, closing the door behind her. “There was a mob outside the restaurant. I had to autograph, like, two hundred sponges. And I think someone cut a piece of my hair off…”

I didn’t look up at her. “I changed her diaper about an hour ago. She was a little fussy. I gave her some gas drops and she seems fine now. She’s in the playpen in the office, sleeping.”

Then I slid my chair out, got up, and went to the bar.

“Well, you’re in a mood,” she said from behind me.

I pulled the stopper off the bourbon. “So does your ex own any damn shirts or did he get frostbite on his nipples?” I mumbled.

“Drake? He should own a shirt. He wore one on the cover of People when he got Sexiest Man Alive.”