“To own my own place.” Finally, something we could connect on! Not that I would ever own my own restaurant. But EC was close enough, right?
“That’s exciting,” I told him, feeling genuinely happy for him.
“Yeah, I’m just so sick of these hours. They’re killing me.”
Okay, wait a second. “Are there bakeries that work different hours?” I thought all bakers were up before dawn to get ready for that morning crowd? What was he going to do, sell donuts for supper?
Not a totally bad idea… but still.
“Sure,” he said obviously. “I don’t even know if I want to have a full bakery, you know? I’ve been thinking about cakes. Cakes seem easier. I could work when I wanted to work and sleep in. Still go out on the weekends. I just can’t do this grind. It’s killing my social life.”
I nibbled my bottom lip, trying to decide what to say to that. In one sense, I got it. My job was killing my social life too. And these hours weren’t for everybody. But… this was the life we chose. Er, I chose. I walked in with eyes wide open. I knew what I was getting myself into. I wanted this life.
Because my work meant something to me. It gave me a purpose bigger than anything else in this world. It fulfilled me. It gave me this great, big reason to wake up in the morning and the energy to survive the long, grueling days. Yes, it was hard. But hard wasn’t a bad thing.
Although, I could admit it wasn’t for everybody.
Maybe I was crazy.
And maybe my friends were all crazy too.
Honestly, I could have let it go. I didn’t think Matt and I were going anywhere, but I wasn’t going to hate him for wanting a life outside of his job, even if it didn’t exactly endear me to him. But then he added, “Besides, I’ve gotten so many clients from this job right now. It would be so simple to start something on my own.”
“You’re going to poach your current clients? To start your new job?” The words just fell out of my mouth. And to be honest, they were not said in a kind voice. Honestly, my tone was pretty judgy.
And poor Matt felt the judgment hardcore.
His face took on an expression of total defensiveness. “Not like tomorrow. I’m talking the future. Like I said, I’m building my resume.”
Without any regard for his current employer. Ugh, this guy was a total douche.
“Seems like a shitty way to do it.”
“You’re right. But firing people the first week you take over is totally cool.”
“Are you serious?” God, this guy was a total asshole. The nervousness I’d felt earlier turned to ash and I felt sick to my stomach.
His jaw took on a stubborn quality and he shrugged his shoulders instead of verbally responding.
“I’m so glad to see you, Dillon.”
Vann’s presence looming over the table was a total surprise to both Matt and me. We turned to stare at him slowly, in unison. I’m sure I had a “what the hell” look written all over my face. And I couldn’t have even predicted what Matt looked like. This could not be happening right now.
“You are?” I heard myself say.
He gave me a look that said, “Play along!” but I didn’t know what I was playing along with.
“Uh, can we help you, man?” Matt demanded, not earning any points from me.
“Yeah, thanks, man.” Vann smiled, showing his teeth. He turned back to me. “I was going to call you today, so it’s nice I ran into you. Do you have a few minutes?” When I hesitated, he added, “I wanted to go over that thing we talked about the other day.”
“That thing?” I heard myself ask. God, Dillon, be cooler.
“Come on,” he ordered, not waiting for me to act more confused. He turned around and walked to a table on the other side of the restaurant.
I smiled apologetically at Matt and said, “I’ll be back in a few.”
“You’re kidding, right?” He threw his hands to his sides in frustration.
“We work together,” I explained, finally getting my act together.
He looked at Vann. “That guy’s a chef?”
“Consultant,” I clarified.
“I thought you said he was your best friend’s brother?”
Getting up before he could ask any more questions, I grabbed my purse and cell phone and hurried across the coffee shop.
“Are you with him?” Vann asked in disbelief as I slid onto the seat across from him.
Without looking him in the eye, I answered, “Ish.”
I felt his eyes narrow, even though I was fiddling with my purse. “What do you mean ish?”
Finally, I raised my gaze to meet his. “Blind date,” I confessed, “Bad, terrible, horrible blind date.”
His lips twitched in an almost smile. “That guy is a total asshole.”
Sighing out the frustration that was the last half hour, I said, “Apparently, he thinks I’m the asshole.”
Vann snorted, then took a sip of his coffee and spent the next two minutes glaring at Matt. “Then he’s an idiot. No wonder he’s single.”
I laughed, surprised at his harsh assessment. “I’m single!”
He took another sip of coffee, hiding a full-blown smile behind it. “I am too, I guess.”
I laughed more and it felt strange because it was the first time I had genuinely smiled all morning. But it wasn’t my date who’d made me laugh. It was Vann.
“We’re only single because those are our options,” I told him, still laughing.
His eyes bugged, “You’re telling me. I went to dinner with a girl last week who walks dogs for a living.”
“That’s a real job,” I told him, unable to lose my smile.
“But,” he added, holding up a finger, “only so she can pursue her dream of becoming an influencer.” His eyes got bigger. “I had to google what that was, by the way.”
My head tipped back, and I had to hold my stomach as I laughed harder than I had in weeks. “She’ll probably be a millionaire by next year.”
He rested his weight on his elbows, leaning toward me to admit. “The dogs were pretty cute.”
Where had this sense of humor come from? “We’re in the wrong professions, I think.”
He shook his head. “My selfie game is tragic.”
“It’s all about the angles,” I told him. “You have to know how to work them.”
Picking his phone up off the table, he barely tilted it toward himself and asked, “I hear this is a good one.”
“That’s perfect as long as you want three double chins.”
He rubbed his throat with his free hand. “Think it will help me get more dates?”
I smiled, nibbling on my bottom lip at the same time. “Yes?”
“Speaking of…” he murmured. “Here comes yours.”
Matt huffed across the restaurant and straight past where we sat toward the bathroom. He gave me an impatient look as he brushed by and I couldn’t help but want to jump into Vann’s lap and ask him to save me.
He’d already saved me. Thinking about it, he was pretty much making a habit of saving me.
As soon as the bathroom door swung closed behind Matt, I grabbed my purse and stood up. “Now’s my chance.”
Vann glanced over his shoulder. “You’re right.” Before I could completely walk away though, he added, “By the way, I think firing that employee makes you a smart boss, not a bitch.”
“Wha—?”
“I overheard him giving you a hard time. He’s an idiot. Don’t let him make you feel bad for doing the best thing for your business.”
I blinked, feeling unexpected moisture pooling along my lashes. “Thank you.”
The bathroom door made a creaking sound and we both jumped. “Run, Dillon.”
I hurried from the coffee shop with a smile I was unable to stop—no thanks to my actual date.
Nine
“The bride has arrived!” Kaya and I shouted from the booth we’d slipped into while waiting for the rest of the bridal party to join us.
; Vera and Molly slid onto the seat across from us. Molly was dressed in black from head to toe as we had previously decided, and Vera wore a super cute turquoise ruffly top and black ripped skinny jeans. The sash we’d bought her was nowhere to be seen.
“You’re not wearing white,” Kaya protested the second they’d settled in their seats.
“And where’s the ‘Bridezilla’ sash?”
Molly leaned forward with raised eyebrows and pursed lips, confiding, “She’s been especially difficult today.”
An insulted laugh bubbled out of Vera and she slapped Molly’s shoulder. “Stop it.” She looked at Kaya and me and explained. “I don’t own anything white that fits right now. It was this top or a garbage bag. Who knew boobs could get this big!”
Molly rolled her eyes. “We all feel so sorry for you and your giant boobs.” To us she added, “And she looked great in everything she tried on. She’s just being high-maintenance.”
“I guess we’ll have to save our obnoxious sash for your bachelorette, Molls,” Kaya said, grinning.
Molly’s cheeks flamed red, making the prospect of parading her around Durham wearing a veil, a sash and a necklace made out of tiny penises that much more enticing!
Okay, she would probably fake her own death and run away to the Caymans before wearing penis jewelry anywhere, but it would be fun to watch her reaction when I pulled it out.
“I still think this should count as a double bachelorette,” Molly argued. “I mean, we might as well, since we’re both here and everything. Then we don’t have to try to align schedules again.”
To her point, it had been a nightmare trying to pick a night where all four of us could be together. The bridal brunch had been easier to plan, but even that was difficult now that Kaya had opened Sarita up to brunch on the weekends and Killian and Vera were getting closer and closer to opening.
“We’re not doing that,” Vera said vehemently. “You deserve your very own special night of embarrassment and debauchery.”
Molly pulled a face. “Debauchery? Do I have to?”
Vera looked at Kaya and me expectantly. “One of us has to do debauchery. It obviously can’t be me.”
Molly rolled her eyes. “Why can’t it be you?”
Vera pointed at her belly. “Um… pregnant. Remember? I can’t expose the baby to debauched things. That would be irresponsible parenting.”
“Uh, it can’t be me,” Molly repeated. “I might be pregnant.”
The three of us bugged our eyes out at the same time. She pursed her lips together and shook her head, letting us know she wasn’t serious. I let out a slow breath. I wasn’t ready to be an aunt yet.
One baby at a time.
“Debauchery’s off the table for me too,” Kaya said with a wistful sigh. “The old ball and chain is surprisingly against it.”
The three of them turned to me. Vera grinned. “That leaves you, Dillon. You’re the only one left to debauch.”
“Ha! I’m not debauching alone,” I told them adamantly. “We debauch together or not at all.”
They shrugged. Apparently, it was a not at all kind of night.
“There go my fun plans for strip clubs and lap dances,” I told them—even though I wasn’t serious. Our real schedule for the night included supper at a hole in the wall that supposedly served the best chips and guac in town—possibly the state. Also, possibly the entire world. Margaritas for those of us not with child and an in-house lime refresher for the preggo one. Then dessert, at another hole in the wall that served the best tiramisu in the universe and had an excellent selection of Prosecco. Then second dessert with coffee and added Baileys for those of us not baking a human, raspberry fried ice cream and in-house ice cream cookie sandwiches with mascarpone cream sauce. But first cocktails and apps at this adorable Americana hipster place, Craft, that was known for their excellent bartending and house-made appetizers.
Basically, unlike other bachelorettes I’d been to where we were in a secret contest to see who could eat the least and drink the most, this one was all about seeing who could gain the most weight from our never-ending progressive dinner.
Which is why I loved this group of friends the most. They were the friends I had been waiting for my entire life. My personal circle of soulmates that I had to search for and find, and then claim for my own.
My prep school friends were all trophy wives and cautionary tales. My culinary school friends excelled at passive aggressive competitions that belittled and soul-stripped.
These girls were real. Authentic. True blue soul sisters with zero agenda and one hundred percent support—all day every day.
I couldn’t have picked better friends. Or a better bachelorette.
All Vera wanted to do was keep it small, chill and full of her favorite pregnancy cravings. Molly, Kaya and I were all over that.
“Good!” Vera exclaimed, clapping her hands. “Because I invited the boys!”
“What?” I screeched the word.
Vera’s expression fell. “Was that not okay?”
I schooled my expression and swallowed the complaint I wanted to voice. “It’s fine,” I assured her. “Totally fine.”
“Two fines,” Kaya noted. “It’s definitely not fine.”
Bumping her with my shoulder, I tried to come up with an excuse, but nothing came to mind.
“Are you really upset?” Vera asked, looking crushed.
I reached across the table and grabbed her hand, squeezing it in mine. “I’m not upset at all. This night is about you. I want to do whatever you want to do.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Dillon.”
They were all staring at me with expectant expressions. The truth came out unintentionally because I loved these people too much to default to my usual borrowed personalities. I didn’t have it in me to be fine with them. “It’s hard, okay? It’s hard being the third wheel. Or the…” I quickly counted the couples that would be here tonight. “Seventh wheel.” I held up my hands. “I don’t want to be the loser here without a boyfriend.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend. I have a fiancé.” Molly said, in the most pretentious voice ever. She eyed Vera. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
She jutted out her chin and sniffed the air. With the snobbiest tone on the planet, she said, “I have a baby daddy.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. At least they meant well. “And I have a string of bad dates. During my most recent, I snuck out of the coffee shop while he went to the bathroom.” At their dropped jaws and raised eyebrows, I admitted, “Not my finest moment.”
“Was he skeezy?” Kaya asked.
“It was nine in the morning, so it wasn’t like he tried to get all inappropriate. We just… didn’t click.”
“You’ve got to click,” Molly agreed.
“And we texted fine,” I continued. “But there was zero chemistry in person. I laughed more with Vann in the two minutes I spent with him than I did on the entire date.”
“Vann?” Vera asked, but I felt the question resonate around the table.
The waiter chose that moment to finally stop by and grab our drink order. A white wine spritzer for Molly, a paloma for Kaya, a water with cucumber for Vera and my latest obsession—an Old Fashioned with Buffalo Trace. One extra cherry. Thank you very much.
I could do the champagne cocktails and froufrou drinks when pushed, but whiskey was my thing—American. Barrel-Aged. Twelve-year-old. Amen and amen.
We also ordered a charcuterie board, the house pickles, pretzels, and bar nuts in various shapes, sizes and flavors.
“Did you say Vann?” Vera repeated when we were alone again.
Had I said Vann?
Damn.
I told you I was terrible at blurting out the truth and nothing but the truth when it came to these four women that made up my inner circle.
“Oh, yeah, it was the strangest thing. He happened to walk in when I was on this date from hell and he ended up kind of saved me.” They blinked at me, like I’d just explained th
e whole thing in Mandarin. “You know your brother.” I waved my hand in the air, hoping I had recently acquired the magical skill of getting girls to skip over conversations about boys.
“Apparently, I don’t know my brother,” Vera drawled. “Please, tell me more about him. And you. And this date he saved you from.”
“V, this night is about you! I feel like I’m taking up all the oxygen. Enough about my failed dating life. Let’s celebrate your more successful one!”
Kaya leaned forward, planting her elbows on the table. “Nice try, blondie. But we want the goods. Give us the whole story.”
I looked to Molly for some help. She held her hands up in defeat and said, “He’s basically my brother too. I’m just as curious.”
“Ugh.”
“Spill it,” Vera ordered.
So, I did. I started at the beginning when Benny asked me if he could set me up with Matt and ended with my escape from the worst coffee date in history when Matt went to the bathroom, leaving out all the important details about Vann’s smile and his rival bad dating life and that this was the third time he’d saved me from an unfortunate end.
I thought they’d give me immediate input into the whole ordeal, but all three of them sat back in their seats and were basically quiet until the bartender dropped off our drinks a minute later.
“That was nice of him,” Vera finally said.
“That’s what I said. He saved me. It was nice.”
“He’s off nice girls,” she added.
“I know. He told me.”
Her face screwed up like a shrewd field mouse. “Does that bother you?”
I gave her the look of a confused spider monkey in return. “Why would it bother me?”
“You’re a nice girl,” she pointed out.
“But I don’t want to date your brother.”
Now she looked offended. I needed her to make up her damn mind.
Could I blame this mental whiplash on pregnancy?
Sure?
Maybe I’d ask Killian later since he was apparently joining us.
I chose response-neutrality. “Thank you. I think you’re nice too, Vere.”
Working extra hard to pull us out of awkward territory, Molly said, “Benny should know better. Where’s the bro-awareness for his own posse. Come on, dude.”
Opposites Attract: The complete box set Page 102
