Page 10 of Best Served Cold

“Sorry,” I say again, somewhat meaning it this time.

“There you go again.”

“There you go being a dick again.”

I cover my mouth after the words come out, which doesn’t do any good.

Rob looks amused. “Well, at least we know you have no trouble being honest withme.”

I watch as he runs a hand over his jaw. The coverage of the stubble is as perfect as if someone had painstakingly plotted it out on graph paper. Curiosity makes me want to brush my fingers over it, although of course I never would. Jonah’s beard doesn’t grow in like that—his is patchy, which is why he alwaysshaves first thing in the morning. I used to think that sliver of self-consciousness was proof of a sweet vulnerability. But maybe that was something else I’d romanticized, making it into an endearing quality rather than a show of vanity.

“I never really knew Jonah at all,” I reflect morosely.

“It’s my turn to be sorry,” Rob says with a sigh. “I suppose my brother’s like all of us. He tries to put his best foot forward. He cares what people think.”

“You don’t.”

He laughs, but I can’t tell whether he’s offended or genuinely amused. “The world could benefit from a little more honesty, don’t you think?”

“A little more honesty,” I repeat, letting the sentiment seep in.A little more honesty.

Yes, why yes I do.

I firm up my posture and exit the car. Rob gets out, too, but I don’t look at him.

“I need to do this part by myself,” I say.

There’s a heavy pause, like he’s preparing to object, but he says, “You’re right. But I’ll wait out here in case you need a ride. Or a getaway car.”

Maybe he’s only sticking around to make sure I actually go through with ruining his brother’s morning, like he said before, but I’m not going to complain. It makes me feel less alone.

I suck in a breath of the warm summer air, then regret it, because it smells a bit like hot trash.

Garbage Fire.

The thought makes me sneak a surreptitious glance at Rob, who has returned to the driver’s seat, though he’s left the door open as if he’s ready to jump out at a moment’s notice. He winks at me, and apparently shock does crazy things to a woman because I feel something inside of me wink back. Metaphorically, of course. I have never possessed the ability toclose only one eye upon command. It’s like the universe solely bestowed that talent on men who would misuse it to make women feel things they shouldn’t.

I glance away quickly, thinking of BigCatchBabe, Hannah, and kind of wishing she were here with me. Oh, who am I kidding. I wish she were dealing with this instead of me. She’s clearly as addicted to conflict as I am allergic to it.

Gulping in another breath, regretting it again, I cross the road and approach the entrance for Silver Star…and realize the flaw in my plan when I see the “Closed” sign on the glass door. It’s only nine a.m., at the latest, and they’re not open for business yet. They probably won’t open until noon, like Buchanan’s tasting room.

I almost turn back. I have a valid excuse for not going in there. But I can practically see the look Rob will give me if I return to that car without even talking to Jonah. Disappointed but not surprised, like he was hopeful but didn’t really think I had it in me. So I continue walking toward the building and then stand against the outer wall, next to an oversized potted plant that looks on the verge of death.

I consider my options.

Option 1: I could text Jonah, pretending to be Rob, and ask him to meet me at a side door so we can exchange the phones. But he probably doesn’t have my phone on him if he’s in the meeting. It would also eliminate my opportunity to embarrass him, and if I don’t make a scene, he might be able to use his persuasion super power to get me to change my mind.

Option 2: I could text SilverStarBabe.

I pull out my phone, hands shaking, and send her a message.

I know you don’t believe me, but this is Sophie. I’m here at Silver Star to give Jonah his phone back.

Will you let me in?

If you’re here, I mean.

You’ll see how he reacts when he sees me, and then you’ll know.

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