A few minutes later, Jake was seated across from me, leaning back in his chair as he tapped two pencils on the table rhythmically.
“What are you bringing to the meeting?” he asked.
“Um…” I thought for a moment. “Probably just a pen and notebook to take notes. I don’t think we’d need a computer or anything. Did you tell Kevin about the meeting?”
“Haven’t seen him yet.”
Obviously. “Maybe you should text him,” I suggested. We’d all exchanged numbers the first day, so I could’ve easily texted Kevin myself, but since Jake didn’t look especially busy, I hoped he would do it.
“Wasn’t planning on it. It’s every man for himself here, remember? We were both here early. If he can’t get here on time, why should we do him any favors by letting him know about the meeting?”
I brought my eyes up from where they’d been on my laptop screen to meet his. “Mostly because Jeff asked us to, but also because it’s the right thing to do. We’re supposed to behave like we’re working as a team.”
“You can text him if you want, but he has plenty of time to get here before the meeting starts. And if he’s late, I doubt Jeff would want him to interrupt anything, so it’s probably better he not know about it.”
“Yeah, that’s true, I guess.” I scanned the daily schedule Carole sent out for us and looked up at Jake. “Did you see who’s coming in later this week?”
“Nah, I haven’t looked at it yet. Figured since the meeting’s starting soon, I’ll check out the schedule after. Why? Who?”
“Trey Daily. He’s a football player, right?”
Jake nodded. “There’s a cornerback with that name, yeah. Not sure if it’s the same guy, though.”
I scanned the bullet points below the meeting time. “It’s gotta be. This says he’s opening a sports bar and wants to discuss how he can use his status as an athlete to promote his new business.”
“Oh, shit! Wish we could get in that meeting somehow.”
“Yeah, but I guess we should focus on the one we have in five minutes first.” I picked up my notebook, clipped a pen to the spirals, and turned toward the direction of Jeff’s office.
Jake grabbed some paper and a pen and began walking with me.
When we arrived, Carole was already seated in a chair off to the side. Jeff sat behind his desk, but he rose when we entered and took a seat in one of the open chairs. Jake and I found places on the couch, but before we got too comfortable, Carole stopped us.
“You two will have to stand. Phillip won’t want to feel crowded.”
“Oh, sorry,” I said, already rising and looking for a place against the wall that wouldn’t be in the way. “Is here okay?” I pointed to a spot near the door.
“That should be fine,” Carole answered.
Jake flanked the other side of the door, making us look like oddly dressed security guards.
“Where’s Kevin?” Jeff asked.
Jake shrugged.
“He hasn’t come in yet,” I answered.
“Did either of you text him?”
I could see Jake trying to avoid eye contact with me when Jeff asked the question. “No. I think he drives in, and I didn’t wanna chance him looking at his phone on the road.” Jake was full of shit, but Jeff and Carole had no way of knowing that. “I can if you want me to. I’ll let him know we’re in here.”
“Actually,” Carole said, “you can just let him know to stay home today. And every day for the rest of the summer. If he can’t bother to show up on time, he shouldn’t bother to show up at all.”
“I’ll let him know,” Jake said.
And then there were two.
Chapter Twelve
S O P H I A
I knocked on Drew’s apartment door at exactly six p.m., as requested.
When Drew had called me and invited me to dinner at his place, I couldn’t deny how it made butterflies flutter a bit in my tummy. It was such a sweet gesture that I ignored the concern that had crept up over the state of Drew’s ability to cook.
Despite having lived with him for months, I’d never witnessed him put a full meal together. Something simple, sure. But what he’d alluded to was a bit more elaborate. Or maybe he was really overselling a grilled cheese dinner. Or maybe he’d ordered in.
That thought brought me a modicum of solace as the door was pulled open to reveal…
“Brody?” What the hell was my brother doing here?
“Enter, madam,” he said as he bowed slightly and swept his hand across his body to gesture me inside.
“Have you been body snatched? What are you doing?” I asked, my voice harsh and accusatory, as it normally was when dealing with my brother.
“Nothing. Not a thing. Perfectly wonderful,” he rambled as he hurried back to the kitchen.
I followed him warily and watched him lift the lid on a pot and stir something. “Wait. You’re cooking?”
“He’s helping,” Drew said as he appeared from the hallway carrying…was that Aamee’s hair dryer?
“Dude, that’s not going to work,” Brody warned.
“Just shut up and worry about your sauce.”
“It’s chili.”
Drew leaned in and looked at the contents of the pot as Brody continued to stir.
“It is?”
Oh God.
“Yeah, I told you that,” Brody said, sounding exasperated.
“I know, but I thought you changed your mind once I saw you actually making it.”
“Why? I put all kinds of stuff in here.”
Drew plugged in the hair dryer and turned it on before holding it over a bowl of…something.
“What is that?” I asked. “Oh, and hi, by the way.”
“Oh shit, sorry.” Drew started to move toward me but must have forgotten he was holding a plugged-in hair dryer, because he jerked the cord out of the wall, which made it knock into the bowl he’d been using it on, causing rice to plop to the floor. “Oh, fuck you, Gordon Ramsay.”
I couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of me. “Gordon Ramsay?”
“His website said this recipe was foolproof. Fucking liar.”
I walked closer to inspect the mess. “This is probably a stupid question, but why were you using a hair dryer on it?”
“Because it was too wet,” he said, as if that answer were the most obvious thing in the world.
I hummed in response because, honestly, what else did one say when learning the love of their life was a culinary nightmare who fucked up rice?
“That’s okay,” Brody said proudly. “We still have my chili.”
The words had no sooner left his mouth than the brown concoction began to bubble over the rim of the pot.
“Shit,” Brody squealed as he attempted to thwart the disaster by shoving the lid down and holding it tightly in place. But the brown sludge would not be deterred as it oozed from the crease between the pot and the ill-fitting lid that clearly didn’t match it.
I walked over and turned the stove off, taking a potholder that was lying on the counter and moving the pot to another burner.
“Crisis averted.” Except…not. “Is something burning?”
Brody and Drew looked at each other in panic before exclaiming in unison, “The cornbread!” They both hustled me out of the way so they could pull the oven open, which allowed black smoke to billow out of it.
Brody turned the oven off as Drew looked around frantically.
I tossed him the oven mitts, which he caught and put on before pulling out a charred mess. He dropped the pan onto one of the stove burners and stepped back, wiping his brow as if he’d just run a marathon.
I surveyed the mess. “So, to be clear, I’m not eating any of this.”
“This was not how this was supposed to go,” Brody whined.
“I sincerely hope not.”
“She’s never going to say yes now,” Brody continued.
I felt my gaze turn wary, and I looked over at Drew. He was too busy shoo
ting death glares in Brody’s direction to notice me looking at him.
“Say yes to what?”
“Smooth, dummy,” Drew muttered before taking a deep breath and turning to me, his gaze softening into something that looked more like contrition. “Your dad stopped by and asked us what our plans were to market the deck. We maybe said that we’d enlisted your expertise to come up with a plan.”
I darted my eyes back and forth between them, letting suspense build before finally speaking. “And you thought poisoning me was the way to get me to agree to help?”
“It’s Gordon Ramsay’s fault,” Brody said.
“So I’ve heard.”
“This was supposed to be…” Drew’s sentence trailed off as he spread his arms wide helplessly.
“A hollow sentiment meant to butter me up so you could exploit me for free labor?”
Drew scrubbed a hand over his face. “It sounds really bad when you say it like that.”
Brody bumped Drew’s shoulder. “Dude, promise, like, bedroom things.”
“Bedroom things?” Drew repeated, his voice full of bewilderment.
“Yeah, you know.” Brody waggled his eyebrows a few times.
“Why did Mom and Dad ever teach you to talk?” I asked.
“They had high hopes they couldn’t cash,” he said simply.
“Okay,” I said as I held up my hands to ward off any other gross comments. “First of all, no more bedroom talk from you, because, yuck,” I told Brody. “Second, I did all the marketing for Nite Bites for free. Why did you think you had to bribe me to help you with Rafferty’s?”
Drew shrugged. “We got you into a lot of shit with Nite Bites. We felt bad asking you to help us again, but we also desperately need it.”
“Drew, I’d do anything to help you. You gotta know that by now.” My tone was laced with frustration, but I couldn’t help it. After all we’d been through, did he really think I’d refuse to be there for him?
He moved like lightning, stepping into me and wrapping his arms around my waist. “Yeah, I know that. I mean, I know that on a personal level. But this is business, and you have your internship, and we’re completely clueless, so I didn’t want to assume. I don’t want you to ever feel like I’m taking advantage of you.”
I wasn’t entirely sure how cooking me dinner would’ve prevented me from thinking that, but I didn’t say that. Mostly because I didn’t think that Drew would ever take advantage of me, and second because poor Drew looked like he was one teasing comment away from absolute defeat.
I lifted my hands between us until I could set them softly on his jaw. “You’re so silly sometimes. I’d never think that about you. And I’m happy to help you. Always.”
The lopsided smile I loved made an appearance on Drew’s face just before he lowered his lips to mine and kissed me. It took two seconds for it to turn filthy and consuming.
“See. Bedroom things. Works every time.”
We both turned to stare at Brody, who held his hands up in defense. “Go away, Brody,” he said. “Got it.” He was almost at the front door when we heard a key in the lock and it pushed open. “Hey, babe.”
“Hey.” Aamee smiled sweetly at him before rising on her tiptoes to kiss him. When she pulled away, I saw her nose twitch. “What’s that smell?”
“Oh, uh, sorry. Long day,” Brody said as he pulled his shirt away from his body a few times as if fanning his skin.
Aamee clearly didn’t buy it because she tore ass into the kitchen.
“Is that my pot?” Her voice reached decibels I hadn’t previously heard from a human being.
I glanced over at the stained pot with Brody’s “chili” creating a disgusting kind of armor around it.
Brody hurried to her side and put his arm around her shoulders. “I’ll buy you a new pot.”
When she looked up at him like his death was imminent, he let his eyebrows dance. “And I’ll make it up to you with bedroom things.”
Aamee seemed to contemplate the offer for a second before burrowing closer into his side. “They better be good.”
“Aren’t they always?” he asked.
“And on that note, we’re leaving,” I announced.
“No, no, that’s cool. I’ll take Aamee back to my place.” Brody turned to look down at Aamee before continuing. “We’ll stop at that bistro you like on the way and get takeout. They even sell gelato for…later.”
Brody’s emphasis on the word “later” let me know exactly what they planned to use it for.
“Drew, make it stop,” I begged.
“No need. We’re going,” Brody said as he ushered Aamee toward the door.
“Your sister is such a prude,” I heard Aamee remark as the door shut behind them.
My mouth dropped open in outrage. I was just about to go after them and give them a piece of my mind, but Drew’s arms stopped me.
“It’s okay. We can be extra noisy next time they’re here to show them just how not-prude you are.”
I relaxed and gazed up at him. “You’re the best.”
Then I led him to his room to get a head start on being noisy.
Sitting at work the next day, I brainstormed ideas for Drew and Brody’s venture. Once Drew and I had come up for air and ordered edible food for dinner, he’d filled me in on his vision for the place.
It had taken some pointed questions on my part for us to get to what was actually achievable within his time frame. Obviously summer was fast approaching, so we didn’t have time to shoot for the moon. But there were still things we could do to make the launch and beyond successful.
I was scribbling notes on a legal pad, looking furtively around the room every so often to make sure no one sneaked up on me. It would probably be frowned upon to be coming up with marketing strategies for my boyfriend while I was at work, but it wasn’t like I was getting a paycheck, and most of these people never gave me anything to do other than fetch them drinks and supplies anyway.
What I thought Drew needed was to treat the deck as a separate entity. It had its own entrance from the parking lot, so it could function independently of Rafferty’s, other than needing to share the kitchen. That way we could launch it as a grand opening, gathering a little more intrigue behind it. Not to mention that Rafferty’s was a place where regulars congregated. It got some random foot traffic, but a lot of its clientele were older neighborhood guys.
Drew wanted to attract a younger, professional crowd who worked in the surrounding office buildings and needed a place to spend their happy hours. A lot of the businesses in the area had taken to a more laid-back work environment, so Drew’s bar could fit in nicely there.
To do that, I felt he’d either have to go trendy or comfortable. Considering the atmosphere and setup, comfortable was the way to go. I’d also done some research on other bars in the area. Only two others offered outside seating, and both were much smaller than what Rafferty’s had going for it.
All in all, I thought Drew was potentially sitting on a gold mine if we played our cards right. But beyond the money, I also really wanted this for him and Brody. There was so much potential between them—mostly on Drew’s side of things—and I wanted to do whatever I could to help them realize just how great they could be at this.
“Whatcha doin’?”
I jumped at the voice, startled so much that I threw the pen I’d been writing with.
Jake laughed. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to sneak up on ya.”
I shuffled the papers together on my workspace to hide what I’d been doing while Jake picked up the pen. Thankfully I’d been hunched over, so I doubted he’d seen anything. Not that I necessarily thought it would matter if he had. No one talked to or listened to him around here either.
“Thanks,” I said when he handed the pen back.
“Writing your memoir?” he asked with a smile, gesturing at the papers in front of me.
“Nah, just trying to keep myself busy.”
He looked at me for a second as if waiti
ng for me to elaborate. When I didn’t, his smile shifted to something a little less genuine. “Okay, then, I guess I’ll leave you to it.”
I nodded, and he started to turn away, but something made me call his name. He was a nice enough guy, and I didn’t want to alienate the only person in the office who talked to me.
“Want to go out and grab lunch today?”
His smile looked less forced after my invitation. “Sure.”
I returned the smile, and he made his way back to his workspace and resumed…whatever he’d been doing all morning.
I settled back into my planning, feeling better about being friendly. Maybe it would make this internship more bearable.
Chapter Thirteen
D R E W
As Sophia and I moved around her kitchen, I couldn’t help but think how in sync our movements were. We skated around each other, gathering plates, utensils, and food as if we’d choreographed it. It made me insanely happy to have these small domestic moments with her, even though thinking about how much I liked it made me feel a bit like a sap.
It was Friday, and everyone was kind of run down from internships, jobs, and life. So we’d decided to invite everyone to hang out in the courtyard of our apartment complex, grill some food, and enjoy one of the fire pits. Taylor and Aamee were already downstairs guarding the grill and mixing cocktails. Sophia and I were putting the finishing touches on the food before everyone else showed up.
I was thrilled to have the night off so I could hang out with everyone. Since I’d been put in charge of the deck, Sean had started paying me as a manager, which meant I could pull back from bartending. I still planned to keep Saturdays until the deck actually opened because every extra dollar helped, but I’d been more than happy to give up Fridays.
Which reminded me… “I talked to Sean about your ideas today.”
Sophia looked up from where she was chopping fruit to give me a small smile. “And?”
Two Truths & a Lime (The Love Game Book 3) Page 9
