Page 38 of Game Change

He’s right. Drama is the last thing I want, and I’m still convinced that Brynne is drama-free. Everyone except Joel loves her in the office. No one has ever said a bad thing. She’s highly regarded by our clients, and the girl I got to know while on vacation is everything I’m looking for. She’s everything Esme is not.

At least if she doesn’t kill me because I think the waitress just dropped the bomb that I’m paying the tab. I’ve already paid, so it’s too late for her to do anything about it. Her smile is wiped, and I pick up my water glass for a mock salute. She stands, looking regal, and I admire her long legs in those tight leather pants. She slams her napkin on her empty dessert plate and walks to the table. Amira nervously looks from me to Raven, who is sitting back with her arms crossed.

“Hey, girl,” Makayla says with a big smile. “You want to sit with us? I want to know where you got those leather pants.”

Ian quickly stands and offers her his seat.

“Thank you, Makayla and Ian, but I won’t be here long enough to sit.” Ian remains standing, and I think it’s because he’s preparing himself to get between us. “You,” she says, pointing at me.

“Me?”

“How did you know I’d be here? Are you having me followed?”

“Are you insane?” I ask.

“It’s just that out of all the restaurants in this city, we end up at the same one at the same time.” She has the nerve to cross her arms and tap one of her feet.

“Makayla is the one who made the reservation,” I say in my defense.

“He’s right. I did. Me and Ian wanted to treat him to a nice dinner to celebrate his new—" Ian clears his throat and puts both hands on her shoulders. “Uh, thank him for the bachelor party he planned and treated everyone to, and welcome him back home. He’s been such a good friend to my husband and me too.” Makayla pats my cheek.

“Well, that’s not my experience with him, but whatever. To each their own, I guess,” she says with her nose turned up. “How much is he paying you to put on this show?” She gestures at everyone at the table. Makayla furrows her brows, and Malcolm scoffs and rolls his eyes. I know he’s thinking that I attract nothing but crazy females. “Someone who wastes money doesn’t need this job, but I do.”

“Your experience couldn’t have been that bad. You were attached to his hip from the moment you eye fucked him,” Malcolm says.

“Malcolm,” Makayla admonishes.

“It’s true,” Malcolm says. “She spent more time at our place than she did at hers, and now she wants to make him out to be this bad guy? He wasn’t so bad when your arms were wrapped around him constantly.”

“Oh, really?” Brynne sneers. “You want me to tell your sister how—”

“What did you come here for?” I ask, interrupting whatever she was going to say to Malcolm, which I’m positive would only piss off his sister.

“I want you to stay away from me.”

Another scoff from Malcolm before he mutters. “He’s not the one in your face.”

“Then why are you atmytable?” I ask.

Makayla does her best to cover her smile with her hand.

“I don’t need you bringing me food at the office,” she continues as if she didn’t hear me.

“You brought her food?” Malcolm asks. “Typical Killah.”

“That’s sweet. Killah is always feeding us. He’s a great cook,” Makayla says. “He wanted to cook for us at his place tonight, but I had to drag him out.”

“Well, I wish you all had taken him up on his offer to stay in. And sweet?” Brynne asks as if outraged by the statement. She points at me. “You think this lunatic is sweet?”

“Well, yeah,” Makayla says. “He’s—”

“First of all,” Brody says, “the word lunatic is outdated and offensive. It was originally used to describe someone who—"

“Killah killed my dreams,” she hisses, but I don’t think she meant to say that. Then she straightens up and looks at me. “I don’t need you to pay for our dinner. My friends are treating.”

“Well, I’ve already paid.”

“Fine. They’ll pay you back.”

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