Page 11 of Hard Hearts

“I didn’t know you were marrying her.” Brooks is frowning even harder. “I would have cooked you a marriage meal.”

“I just decided we were getting married. I saw an opening”—I gesture with my hand as if I was pushing a curtain aside—“andmade the most of it. Frankie wanted to close a deal, and the guy whose signature she needs on the contract is a fan of happy couples.”

“So it’s fake?” Brooks wonders.

“Nah, it’s real.”

“Frankie thinks it’s fake,” Dylan informs us. All of his intel comes from his fiancée, Nat, who is Frankie’s best friend, so his intel is solid, but it’s still irritating.

I contemplate throwing my glass of whiskey in his face but realize that would both ruin the felt on the table and also affect my chances of getting the wedding blanket. “It’s real.”

“But—“

“But nothing. She has a real diamond on her finger, and by taking it, she’s agreed to be married. Isn’t that how contracts work, Dylan?” He’s the lawyer. Why is he busting my chops over this?

”It is, and I respect your efforts.” He raises his glass. “Let me know if you need me to run interference.”

“What are you going to do? Lock Nat up in a tower?”

He gets a devilish grin on his face. “If I must. Enough about you. What’s going on, Brooks? You’re not all here tonight.”

Our chef grimaces. “Supply issues. Eggs, milk, and meat are getting scarce. I need a more innovative menu.”

Brooks spends more time thinking about food than any human. He’s a master in the kitchen, doing magical things like making cake, whipped cream, and marzipan look like toast and eggs. Eating at his restaurant is like a theme park for the mouth.

“If you got more innovative, you’d probably be making food out of shoes or footballs.”

“Leather is a natural product,” he muses.

Dylan throws a card at Brooks’ head, but since he’s a knitter and not a quarterback, it flies over Brooks’ shoulder.

“Congratulations on your marriage. Bring your bride over and I’ll make you a special meal,” Brooks invites.

“I never got a special meal,” Graham says.

“I did.” Dylan makes a toothy grin.

“Brooks?” Graham prods.

“I wanted a blanket, and Kaden is my favorite quarterback.” Brooks is unrepentant.

“The hell? I thought you’d say it was a mistake. That you overlooked me by accident, but it’s intentional?”

“You can come in and order any time.”

“This is billionaire prejudice.” Graham folds his arms across his chest.

Brooks smiles quietly. “Yes.”

Dylan and I fold over in laughter while Graham quietly fumes. Brooks silently pours everyone a refill of their whiskey and deals the next hand. He loses and Graham wins, but since Graham still wants that special meal, Brooks leaves the poker table victorious.

Graham stops me after Brooks leaves to go hunt in the forest for new ingredients, and Dylan heads home to Nat. I wish I was going home to Frankie, but she’s at her place cooking up some kind of plan to reel Jasper in. His name isn’t on the dotted line, but it’s only a matter of time.

“Is it because I win too much at poker?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t stop winning.”

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