Page 78 of Someone Just Like You

With a palpable need to loosen up, I went to the kitchen and poured most of a half-empty bottle of red wine into a glass before flumping onto the couch. “Is there a songbook?”

“Whatever’s on YouTube,” Alex said.

“Let me think.” A challenging feat considering I couldn’t stop replaying my meeting with Michael in my head. In theory, getting a promotion wasgoals, except in practice it hinged on me continuing to do things Michael’s way, at least publicly, which meant more overtime at home. It was for a good cause—a symbiotic working environment for my clients—but it sucked for me, who enjoyed her life outside of work, now more than ever thanks to Jude.

“We’re gonna do a duet and then you’re up, Mole.”

I let my head fall back. Was there a song about hating your boss? “Is ‘Nine to Five’ on there?”

“I’m sure it is,” Jude said.

I took a large sip of wine, not bothering to swirl and sniff first. It was a shame because Jude, being a sommelier, didn’t skimp on wine even at home. His restaurant would have a stellar wine list, I was certain. If he ever opened it. “Did you ever read the restaurant materials I gathered for you?”

He couldn’t hear me over whistling the opening notes to “Wind of Change” by the Scorpions. I studied him…singing like he hadn’t a care in the world. I had smaller shoulders yet seemed to carry the weight of all the stress in our relationship. It wasn’t fair.

“Have you read the restaurant articles yet?” I repeated, this time in a much louder voice as Yogi danced at my feet.

“What?” Jude shouted over the music.

“Turn it off a sec!”

The music stopped.

I stood. “The restaurant. The one you want to open. How do you expect to launch a restaurant if you spend all your time singing power ballads from the eighties?” My chest tightened. The question came out a lot more forceful than I’d intended. I sounded angry—like someone who’d been wronged, even though Jude hadn’t done anything to me.

Jude stared at me in silence.

“It’s actually from 1990,” Alex corrected.

Tossing the microphone to the side, Jude said, “It’s all yours” to Alex. Without another word, he walked to his room and sat on his bed.

I followed him inside and closed the door behind us.

“What’s upyourass tonight?” Jude said.

I knew this was where I should come clean about my crappy mood and apologize for taking it out on him. But I was too far gone and genuinely curious if he’d finally read any of the articles. They weren’t exactly Jack Reacher novels, but you’d think a person who dreamed of opening a restaurant would want to gain as much knowledge on the topic as possible. I’d made it so easy for him to do just that. I glanced around the room. “Where is it?”

“Where is what?”

“The binder I made you.”

“It’s…” He averted eye contact. “It’s still at the restaurant.”

“You never even brought it home? I put so much time and care into searching and printing articles to help you, and you don’t even appreciate it.” I had these visions of us reading it together in bed with Yogi napping at our feet.

Jude stuffed his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. “I never asked for your help.”

“I know. I did it to make you happy. The way my parents stopped doing for each other. It’s what broke them. Did I tell you what my mom said about that? I was trying to show you I cared.”

“So why do I feel like shit instead? Like I’m on some sort of timeline and if I take too long, you’ll add me to your end-of-the-year naughty list?” He ran his fingers through his hair.

“Don’t be silly.” My fingers itched to smooth down the silky tufts that were now askew, but he wasn’t finished yet.

“You realize you sound like my parents when you nag me about it, don’t you? It’s bad enough they’re disappointed in me…something you’ve witnessed firsthand. When you stuck up for me at the party—before we even hooked up—something inside me shifted. I’d been fighting my attraction to you because…me andMolly Blum?” He wrinkled his nose like he’d inhaled rotten milk. “But it felt nice to have you on my side.” His shoulders dropped. “Obviously, it was just for show. Maybe they even put you up to this. You heard my mom in the basement.”

I flinched. I hated the way his parents had talked to him at the anniversary party—like being a bartender wasn’t good enough. “I never meant to make you feel that way. I’m sorry. But do you seriously think I’d collude with Randy and Laura? Unlike them, I had no issue with your current career as long as you were happy. But youtoldme you had bigger dreams. I just don’t get how you expect them to come true if you don’t put in the work.”

“Who said I wasn’t going to do the work? But do I have to do it right now?”

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