by Emery Rose
“That baby is going to be gorgeous.”
“Yep.” I swung open the door and there was Ollie. He brushed past me and walked inside like he owned the place.
“I’ll talk to you later,” I told Sienna. “Ollie’s here.”
Since I’d never told Sienna that Ollie and I had ventured out of the friend zone, she didn’t question it. I cut the call and followed Ollie into the kitchen. He was like a bloodhound, sniffing out food everywhere he went. By the time I reached him, he’d already helped himself to the other half of my sandwich. I smacked his arm and he held the sandwich hostage above his head. At five foot four, I had stopped growing whereas the scrawny boy I used to play with had become a hulking giant of six foot three.
“Back off, Smalls. I’m a starving artist.”
“So am I.” I flicked him on the arm and he flicked me back then finished the sandwich in two bites and washed it down with milk that he drank straight from the carton. Some things never changed, but I was happy that he was acting like my friend again, without all the weirdness.
“What are you doing here? Besides stealing my dinner?” I asked as we stood side by side making two more sandwiches.
“Look. I know this won’t sound good coming from me,” Ollie said, getting to the real reason he’d stopped by. “But be careful.”
“Careful about what?” I had some idea what he was talking about, but I played dumb hoping he wouldn’t go there.
“Dylan. He’s trouble. And I’m saying this as your friend with only your best interests at heart. Your parents suck. Your dad’s a prick. Your mom… I don’t know what the hell she is except self-absorbed. Don’t lose your sister because of a guy. He’s not worth it.”
He’s not worth it. I’d heard those same words spoken about Dylan—to Dylan’s face—by my father ten years ago. I’d been getting a snack in the kitchen with the French doors wide open when my father laid into Dylan. I’d been privy to things I never should have known about.
“You’re nothing but a no-good punk…”
“If you think for one minute I’d let my daughter bring your worthless bastard into this world…”
“You’re not good enough for my daughter and you never will be…”
Dylan was worth it. But I knew that Ollie was just trying to look out for me. While I appreciated it, sort of, it was unnecessary. “I have no intention of getting involved with Dylan so don’t worry about it.”
Famous last words.
6
Dylan
“We have a team meeting in twenty minutes,” Cruz reminded me as I pulled into a parking spot outside Starbucks and cut the engine.
“When have I ever missed a meeting?”
“Never. But try to play nice. Whenever you’re around, Melanie gets nervous. I’ve had to ease her fears on more than one occasion. She’s hot though so it’s not too much of a chore.”
I hadn’t even noticed. She was a people pleaser, she was efficient, and she got the job done. As far as Melanie was concerned, that’s all that mattered to me. “She’s our PA, for fuck’s sake. We don’t need a lawsuit because you can’t keep your dick in your pants.”
“I’m not boning her. Do you take me for stupid? Where are you anyway?”
“Starbucks.” I beeped my locks and climbed the stairs to the side entrance. Two men in their mid-forties who looked like surf bums, were lounging at an outdoor table, their faces tipped up to the morning winter sun. One of them looked like Jimmy Wilder with his longish brown hair and suntanned skin. I felt a sharp pang of sadness that it wasn’t him. Shane’s dad, Jimmy was like the father I’d never had. I missed him every fucking day.
“Hang on,” Cruz said. “I’ll take orders.”
“The fuck? I’m not the office errand boy,” I said as I stepped inside Starbucks and got in line behind a few suits.
Cruz ignored me and came back on the line a few seconds later. “I’ll text the order. It’s a big one.”
I shook my head and pocketed my phone.
“Hey Romeo.”
I turned to look at Scarlett who gave me a dimpled smile, revealing her pearly whites. Today she was wearing an oversized maroon knitted sweater, the hems unraveling, zebra print leggings and Doc Martens. Her blonde hair was pulled up into a messy topknot that tilted to the right and her face was makeup-free except for the smudged eyeliner under her bottom lashes. Yet somehow, this grunge angel was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.
I wasn’t sure when it had happened, but baby sister had become the stuff of my wet dreams. Literally. I’d woken up this morning hard as stone, and rubbed one out in the shower, envisioning her on all fours, my hand fisting her hair. In my head, we’d fucked on every available surface in my house and in every imaginable position.
“I thought you only did drive-thrus.”
“If they had a drive-thru, I’d use it.”
“Misanthropy 101.”
“I aced that class.”
We both laughed. When our humor faded, we just stood there and engaged in a silent staring contest. I had sex on the brain. More specifically, sex with Scarlett on the brain. But it was more than that. She was cool as shit and didn’t care about anyone’s opinion of her. She just did her own thing, had her own sense of style, and fuck what everyone said about it. She’d always had a rebellious streak, and it was one of the things I liked best about her. Unlike Sienna who loved her designer clothes and shoes and shiny toys, who used to tremble with fear at the thought of losing her trust fund, Scarlett had given her father the proverbial middle finger.
Fuck you, Daddy dearest.
That took guts.
“Hey. I’m Nicola.” The brunette next to Scarlett gave me a little wave and it was only then that I noticed Scarlett wasn’t alone. Because… sex on the brain.
“Oh. Sorry.” Scarlett snapped out of it to make the belated introductions. “This is Dylan. Dylan, Nicola. Nicola’s my roommate. She’s a chef at Cinque Terre.”
“I’m a line cook. But chef sounds better.” She gave me a big white smile. She was hot, a brunette with big brown eyes and big tits. Exactly the kind of girl Cruz always went for. But she didn’t do it for me.
My gaze returned to the blonde bombshell next to her.
Scarlett rocked back on her heels, her hands clasped in front of her. “Kind of weird that I never used to run into you and now everywhere I go, there you are.”
“It’s synchronicity,” Nicola said. “You’re in sync now so you’ll probably see each other everywhere.”
“Funny how that works.” Because I did see her everywhere.
It was my turn to order, so I moved up to the counter and opened the text from Cruz. Son of a bitch. Eight drink orders.
“What can I get you?” the guy behind the counter asked.
“Can you give me everything on this text? But instead of the tall Americano make it a venti with a triple shot. And whatever they want,” I said, ushering Scarlett and her friend up to the counter.
“Oh. You don’t have to get ours. We’ll go after him,” Scarlett told the barista.
“Just tell the guy what you want,” I huffed.
They put in their orders and tried to give me money which I refused to take. Everyone knew that Starbucks was overpriced. When me and Remy were teenagers, we couldn’t afford these little luxuries. Sienna used to bring Starbucks to school for Remy every morning. She’d been a good friend, I had to give her that, but it used to make Remy feel guilty that she couldn’t afford to return the favor. Now we could afford it and ironically, Sienna’s sister couldn’t. Pay it forward and all that.
We moved down the counter to wait for my big-ass drink order and formed a cozy little circle of three. At this rate, I’d be late for the meeting.
“So Dylan, we’re planning Scarlett’s twenty-first birthday party,” Nicola said with a smile. “Are you free on Thursday night?”
“You don’t have to come,” Scarlett hastened to add. “You probably don’t even like parties.”
“A beach party in January?” I cocked a questioning brow at Scarlett.
Scarlett shrugged. “There’s no competition for the fire rings and the beers will stay cold. But like I said, you don’t have to come.”
“Are you saying you don’t want me there?”
“Well…” She chewed on her lip and furrowed her brow as if I’d just asked her to solve a quadratic equation. Scarlett was always honest. I remembered that. “I do. But only if you want to be there.”
Just then, my name was called, and ten drinks were set on the counter in front of us. We transferred them to cardboard trays, and Nicola and Scarlett insisted on helping me carry the drinks to my car. If any of this shit spilled on my interior, Cruz was dead. I’d only spent money on two things. This car and my house. And I was borderline OCD about both of them.
“Thanks for the coffee. Hope we see you at the party,” Nicola said, pushing this whole party thing whereas Scarlett was more hesitant.
“Well, okay, so I guess I’ll see you around,” Scarlett said, giving me a little wave over her shoulder as she walked away.
Chances were, I wouldn’t go anyway. There were plenty of girls who were willing and ready, girls who did not come with any strings attached. Get in, get out, don’t stick around long enough to let anyone get too close or ask probing questions I wouldn’t answer anyway.
I made it back to the office with two minutes to spare and set the drinks on the table. My good deed done for the day.
“Where’s my tall Americano?” Cruz asked after he finished passing out the drinks like he was Santa Fucking Claus.
“It got an upgrade.” I took a sip of my venti Americano as I walked past him and sat at the table which of course was round. Cruz claimed it made everyone feel like they were equals. The office was open plan and everyone else was thrilled with that concept and the overall relaxed atmosphere. Me? I had a door and glass walls around my office to give me privacy and block out all the noise. I didn’t hate people. We had a good team—young, smart and driven—and for the most part, I got along with everyone I worked with. But I could only handle people in small doses. Anything more left me feeling drained.
“Cheers everyone.” I lifted my cardboard cup in a toast. “Enjoy your Starbucks because that’s the last time I’m doing a fucking coffee run.”
Everyone around the table laughed as if I’d made a good joke. At least they saw the humor in my asshole tendencies.
Cruz muttered under his breath, still an asshole, and rubbed his eyebrow with his middle finger. The fact that he actually believed I’d bring him a morning beverage after he’d pulled that stunt made me chuckle.
Putting the Starbucks incident behind us, we got down to business. I fucking loved my job and even though I didn’t need to be here half as much as I was and technically, I could work from home, I spent a lot of time in this office. I liked having structure. A place where I needed to be five days out of the week. Cruz and I were a lot alike that way. We’d both grown up with parents who were mostly MIA and had never enforced rules, structure or curfews. We were street kids from the hood made good, and neither of us had ever forgotten where we came from.
When we started this company five years ago, we were still in college and it was just me and Cruz, developing software and building websites from our kitchen table in San Diego. Now we had thirty employees, an office on the twelfth floor of a new high-rise near the marina, and an ocean view. Times had changed but I guess at the end of the day, I hadn’t. Not really. I was still rough around the edges, still taciturn and somewhat detached, and I still had this fear that one day I’d wake up and everything good in my life that I worked my ass off for would be ripped away. That fear had been my constant companion since I was a kid. I didn’t think it would ever go away.
7
Scarlett
“I can’t believe you invited Dylan.” I took a sip of my caramel macchiato. I was so basic. “He probably won’t come anyway.”
“Then you’ll have nothing to worry about,” she said calmly.
“Exactly. It would be better if he didn’t come.”
“But you’re still hoping he does.” Nicola tilted her head and studied my face. She was a knockout—a tall, willowy brunette with huge dark eyes and full lips. Guys usually did a doubletake when she walked by, but Dylan had barely glanced at her. Interesting.
“I don’t know, Nic. I’m so… God, I’m a horrible person. Let’s not even try to sugarcoat it.”
“I won’t. You’re truly horrible. The worst. What a bitch.” She rolled her eyes. “Get a grip. I don’t see what the big deal is.”
“Are you serious? He’s my sister’s ex-boyfriend,” I whisper-shouted. Two businessmen at a table across from us looked over briefly before returning to their conversation.
Nic waved away my concerns. “Your sister moved on. She’s living with another guy. She gets to be happy so why can’t you guys be happy?”
I stared at her, completely missing the logic because her statement had none. “It goes against the sisterhood code. Everyone knows that.”
“If you were going for him while your sister was still with him, yeah sure, I could see that. But it’s over so he’s fair game.” She shrugged like this was something everyone knew. I wasn’t too sure about that. “You can’t help who you fall in love with.”
“Nobody’s in love.” I took a few more sips of my drink. Love was a stretch. I used to have a crush on him but that was as far as it went. “And then there’s Ollie. I really want to get back to being friends but if Dylan shows up—”
“Whoa.” Nic held up her hand like a traffic cop. “Stop right there. Ollie cheated on you. He’s lucky you’re even talking to him, let alone wanting to be friends. Seriously. Explain that to me.”
“He was drunk and…” My shoulders slumped. That had been such a bad time. I’d rather just forget about it. Erase it from history. I’d been pushing Ollie away but still trying to hang on because I didn’t want to lose him. It hadn’t been fair to him or to me and he’d goaded me, tried to force my hand so I would show him how much I cared. Obviously, it had backfired in an epic way and now we were left to pick up the pieces of a friendship we’d blown to smithereens. “I can’t explain it, but he said he didn’t sleep with her.”
“That’s no excuse. He was trying to get you jealous. Who plays those games besides junior high kids? He took it too far. I know you guys have been friends forever, but still. That really sucked and so does he for doing what he did.”
“You know what sucks even more? I was relieved. Like, it gave me an excuse to call it quits. He’d given me the out I needed. That’s pretty messed up, right?”
“Life is messed up. Take me, for example. Obsessing over my head chef. And all he ever does is yell at me. He’s a total bully. A hot, hot, scorching hot bully. But still… a bully. Although he did compliment my julienne skills last night. My zucchini and carrots were on point.” She gave me the universal hand signal for perfect then kissed her index finger and thumb. “He was kind of nice, actually. Oh Jesus.” She smacked herself on the forehead. “I need to stop thinking about him. Besides, he’s too old for me. Oh, and he has a kid. Let’s not forget that.”
“Wait, he’s married?”
She shook her head. “No. He’s single. A single dad. Kind of hot, right?”
“Where’s the mom?”
“She took off.”
“Oh. That’s sad.”
“Yeah.” Her lips turned down at the corners. “Anyway, as far as Dylan goes, my advice—”
I jostled her arm to get her to put a lid on it as Remy walked in the door, her phone pressed to her ear. She gave us a dazzling smile when she saw us and held up one finger to say she’d just be a minute. God, she really was gorgeous. It was easy to see why she’d been such a successful supermodel. I’d never seen eyes like hers before. Blue-green, like aquamarine
, and she had the same coloring as Dylan. Jet-black hair and tan skin that made her eyes look even more stunning.
Nicola and I were both watching her as she got her drink at the counter and then walked over to us. She was one of those people you couldn’t help but stare at.
“I’ll see you soon, lover,” Remy said. She was obviously talking to Shane. Remy cut her call and slipped her phone in her bag. Even at eight months pregnant in yoga pants and a long sleeve T-shirt, her hair in a high ponytail and no makeup, she looked like she belonged on a catwalk.
“Hey Remy. Do you remember Nicola?”
“Of course. Shane and I keep talking about going to dinner at Cinque Terre but we’ve been so busy and I keep falling asleep at nine o’clock. I’m like an old granny these days.” She laughed, and we invited her to sit with us which she did, explaining that the decaf Frappuccino with whipped cream was her reward for having survived another pregnant yoga class.
“I just met your brother,” Nicola said after we’d discussed yoga and Nicola asked what Remy’s due date was. February seventeenth.
“Did my brother actually talk to you?” Remy asked.
“He did,” Nicola said with a smile. “I invited him to Scarlett’s birthday party.”
“Hmm. Interesting.” Remy gave me a little smile. “He came over for dinner last night and your name came up.”
“Oh? Um, what about?”
She took a sip of her drink and left me hanging for a moment. “He said you’re really talented. Which I already knew. He sounded really impressed and it’s not easy to impress my brother.”
“Well, at least he has good taste,” Nicola said. I side-eyed her, hoping she wouldn’t say anything incriminating. “Scarlett has mad talent.”
