Page 93 of Long Shot

“Yeah. The one she had an affair with.”

“Oh.” Beck’s eyebrows shoot up. “Didn’t know that.”

“Yeah. It was a long time ago, but . . . makes me wonder what the hell he was doing here. Clearly he hunted her down.”

“You think he wants her back.”

I feel like an idiot. “He kissed her.”

Beck rolls his eyes. “Kissed her like, bent her over his arm and stuck his tongue down her throat? Or kissed her like, a peck on the cheek?”

“It was a peck,” I admit. “Still. It pissed me off.”

Beck purses his lips. “Uh-oh.”

“What?”

“You’re jealous.” He shakes his head sadly.

“So?”

“That means you’re falling for her.”

“No, I’m not.”

“For what it’s worth, I think she’s falling for you, too.”

“Nope.”

Beck’s mouth twists. “No?”

I shake my head. Then, striving to keep my tone casual, I voice my biggest fear. “She probably just feels sorry for me.”

“What the fuck? Why would you say that?”

Argh. I shouldn’t have said that. I laugh. “I’m kidding.”

He gives me a slitty-eyed look as he leaves.

I slump back in my chair. The truth is, anyone I’ve ever thought cared for me just felt sorry for me because of my fucked up life. But Reese makes me want to believe. She’s become so important in my life . . . not just here at the restaurant, but away from it. It fucking scares the shit out of me.

And yeah, I’m jealous of Chef Superdouche. I want nobody else to touch her. She’s mine. Maybe . . . okay, maybe I’m falling for her. And could Beck be right? Maybe she’s falling for me, too. Maybe this could all work out okay . . . except why was that asshole here? What was he saying to her?

“Okay, back to business,” Beck says. “Word of mouth is working out great, but apparently we still need to do some advertising. Danny thinks social media advertising is our best bet, given the demographic of our customers.”

“Right.” I need to focus on work, not on Chef Superdouche kissing Reese.

Reese

I can’t exactly talk to Cade about this, even though he is, as well as my lover, my best friend. I feel like I can talk to him about anything, but how can I tell him about this job offer and ask his opinion?

What would his opinion be? Would he want me to take this fantastic opportunity for my career? Would he be even a little sad that I was leaving? And would that be professionally sad . . . or personally?

I sigh. I need to talk to someone. So I text Carrie.

Sup?comes Carrie’s reply, making me smile.

You busy? Need to run something by you.

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