Page 43 of Crazy Thing

This recipe that I stole from my Honey Hill bartender, Jane, has been a hit here this afternoon. Whipping up a fresh batch is the perfect excuse to get away from the table.

I just know that the last thing I want, is to spend my Saturday afternoon watching my boss flirting with some picture perfect porcelain doll in a teeny tiny bikini.

Darius pays me well. But notthatwell. Not well enough to withstand that kind of torture.

And I can already tell it’s going to take a whole lot of reiki healing to fix my bruised ego after seeing Cecily all over him like that.

Why the hell am I freaking out about Darius talking tosome girl anyway? Maybe because it brings up memories of how he rejected me in my teenage years.

That was more than a decade ago. I should be over it—I know that. Also, I shouldn’t be jealous.

But I am. I’m only human, after all.

Aunt Rainbow says that sometimes, the best thing you can do is admit your feelings to yourself and be strong enough to remove yourself from a situation that’s triggering you. So that’s what I’m doing.

To neutralize my jealousy, I remind myself of the bottom line. Darius and I are just work colleagues. He’s my boss. I’m his employee. There is absolutely no reason for us to be associating with each other in a social context.

As I hustle away, I take another peek around the yard. Everyone is having a good time. The Brighton brothers are gathered around the grill, drinking beers and laughing it up with the Westbrook boys. Aunt Rainbow is deep in conversation with Grammy Westbrook.

I don’t get very far before the birthday boys step onto the back deck, trying to grab the crowd’s attention.

Nolan cuts the music and Ronan cups a hand around his mouth. “If I can get everyone’s attention.”

It takes a moment, but soon enough, the guests simmer down.

“Firstly, thank you so much for finally gracing us with your presence, Darius.” Nolan lifts his red plastic cup in his older brother’s direction and shoots him a sarcastic look.

Darius shrugs a shoulder, completely unbothered. “I had shit to do.”

Stella gasps, her eyes going wide. “That was a swear word, Uncle D! You said a swear word!”

Nolan sighs, his glare on Darius as he motions to thekids playing in the colorful ball pit. “Watch your language, would you?”

Stella runs across the deck to grab her father’s hand. “No, Daddy. That’s a good thing.”

“A good thing?” Nolan looks absolutely horrified by his daughter’s words.

The little girl explains. “I made a deal with Uncle D—every time he says a bad word, he puts money in the swear jar.” She jumps around in excitement, her eyes twinkling. “That’s passive income, Daddy! Passive income is how you get rich! Uncle D taught me that!”

Nolan looks conflicted—equal parts annoyed with Darius and impressed with Stella. She scampers toward Darius, stretching a hand out and silently demanding her payment. With a huff, he digs his wallet out of his back pocket and slaps a five dollar bill into his niece’s hand.

The crowd goes wild.

“Go, Stella!”

“Atta girl!”

“Nice work!”

When the amusement dies down, Ronan speaks up, demanding everyone’s attention. “Noles and I just want to take a moment to thank everyone for coming out to celebrate our birthday with us.” He clamps a heavy hand down on his twin’s shoulder. “Usually, I can’t convince this guy to throw a huge party. But this year is different. This year is special.”

Nolan’s head bobs in agreement. “This year, we were both lucky enough to find the most incredible women.” He reaches for Inez and she rushes across the yard to be by his side.

Meanwhile, Ronan is pulling Nicky up the deck and wrapping her in his arms.

And then, the unexpected happens.

The twins both drop to their knees, each one pulling a velvet jewelry box from his pocket and flipping it open to reveal a glittering diamond ring.

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