Page 55 of The Hang Up

I parked in the back of the restaurant near the employee exit. I’d tried to text and then, out of desperation, call Brock. No response. Then his phone had died, or he’d turned it off.

The employees trailed out, most looking exhausted and ready for the day to be over. Others seemed amped, and I figured they would be the ones to go to the bar down the street. I saw Nevaeh first. She was shaking her head and laughing. Then I saw Brock. He was staring at his phone. Had he turned it on again? Then, the person beside him said something, and he laughed. It was the guy from the picture. And I had to fight back the urge to punch him. I wasn’t the jealous type. And I knew Brock wasn’t with this guy. He spent most of his time with me. But my feelings weren’t rational. I stepped closer, and Nevaeh saw me. Her eyes widened. “Oh my Lord.”

“What?” Brock asked, looking up from his phone and over at me. His eyes widened, and I suddenly realized how I must look. My clothes were wrinkled, and I felt desperate. I took a step closer, and he glanced beside him at the other guy. Right. I took a step back. He rolled his eyes and told the others he would talk to them later. Nevaeh whispered something I couldn’t hear, and he waved her off.

The other guy tilted his head and looked at me. “Is that your dad?”

“What?” Brock asked, sounding distracted as he looked at me. “No. I’ll see you tomorrow, Chef.”

Was that guy his boss? Now I really wanted to hurt him.

“Mr. Miller,” Brock said, walking over. “Is Sean okay?” I could see the worry and anger on his face.

“Yes. He’s fine.” I raked my hand through my hair. “Can we talk for a minute?”

“Sure.”

I led him to the Corvette. It would give us the most privacy. We weren’t completely hidden, but it felt like the best option.

“Greta’s the event planner for the convention center. Blake recommended her, remember? Her assistance in getting things arranged for the gala has been invaluable—”

“I bet.”

I sighed, so very tired, not just physically but tired of doing this. “Brock—”

“There are so many other restaurants you could have taken her to.”

“She chose. And what could I say? My boyfriend works there, and he might get pissed?”

“No. You couldn’t say that because I’m not your boyfriend in public. I’m your dirty little secret.”

“You’re being—”

“Don’t you fucking say it.” He folded his arms and stared out the window. I wanted to reach for him, but it would hurt more if he pushed me away. “You two looked very cozy. Why wasn’t Mitch there if it was business?”

“He was.”

“Was he hiding under the table?” he asked with a scoff.

“He was in the restroom. If you would have come out at any other time or looked at my texts, you would have known that.”

Brock leaned back against the seat. He looked exhausted.

I knew this was the wrong time to ask, but I couldn’t hold it in. “Who’s Vincent?”

He stared at me, clamped his lips shut, and shook his head. “You don’t get to be jealous.”

“I’m not—”

“Shut up.” He turned and stabbed a finger at me. “Vincent is our sous-chef. He’s in charge of all the interns—”

“I bet.”

He glared. “I’m hoping to get hired full-time at Shultie’s after I graduate. That means not bringing drama to work during my internship. So yeah, my career depends on you not fucking it up for me.”

I stared straight ahead. This reminded me so much of that past life. Where all we did was fight. First, Victoria and me, and after she left, Sean and me. Brock had always been on my side. When had that changed?

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to go off on you. It’s been a long night.”

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