Page 26 of Show Off

Of course she checked me out before I came to Juniper Ridge. “We were together three years. Her follower count grew from two thousand to two million.”

“Because of you.” It’s not a question, so I don’t bother nodding. “She used you to further her career.”

“Probably.” There’s more to it than that, but that’s plenty. “Since then, I don’t get involved with influencer types.”

“I’m not an influencer, so?—”

“Public relations, content creation—po-tay-to, po-tah-to.” I recall her affection for tubers. “You know what I mean.”

“Please.” She scoffs. “Hardly the same thing.”

“They’re both about curating an image.” My jaw starts to tense. “Spinning reality to be whatever the fuck you want.”

“Harsh.” She looks like she might argue, then shrugs. “Agree to disagree.”

We’re getting into the weeds here. “So we shouldn’t kiss again.” Even as I say it, my gut churns with regret. “No offense.”

“None taken.” The flash in her eyes says otherwise, but Lana’s one hell of an actress. She digs her spoon into the dish and brings it to her lips. “What’s in this, anyway?”

Thank God for a smoothly executed subject change. “You like it?”

She nods and licks the back of the spoon. “Mango and coconut, obviously. Is that mint?”

“Yes.” I’m surprised she noticed, since it’s barely a whisper of fresh, minced spearmint. “And honey.”

She tastes it again and I can’t stop watching her mouth. The bliss on her face stirs something I’d hoped to ignore. “Is that lemon or lime?”

“Lime.” Another good catch. “Only a squeeze.”

“It’s delicious.” She takes another taste. “Sweet and tart and zingy and tangy.”

“You’ve got a sensitive palate.” Why does that sound dirty?

“Thanks.” She scrapes her spoon on the bottom of the bowl, then brings it to her lips. “Amazing.”

“Do you cook?”

“A little. Not well.” She sets the bowl aside. “I love food.”

“Especially potatoes.”

“Exactly.” Her eyes stray wistfully to the bowl. “I could eat twenty more of those.”

I make a mental note to save her some more, then wonder what the hell I’m thinking. I’m not here to make friends. “There’s something else.”

“Besides the apology and mango pudding and an insult to my profession?” She doesn’t look annoyed at all. “What’s up?”

I drag my palms along my thighs, feeling itchy and useless without a saucepan in my hand. “I wanted to talk about the season finale.”

“Sure thing.” Her tone’s light and easy, her blue eyes bright. “Did you feel okay about how it played out?”

There she goes again, being just so damn…nice.

“Yeah, it was fine. Surprisingly unvarnished.”

She beams like I’ve said magic words. “I thought so, too. We paid special attention to the editing.”

“Editing?” I don’t know what she means. “It seemed like pretty much what happened.”

---