Page 28 of Hard Hearts

“It smells great, but you didn’t have to deliver it yourself.” I try taking the brown paper sack from Brooks, but he shakes me off.

“Where’s Frankie?”

“I’m right here.” She waves from behind the refrigerator door. “I was just getting water. Gosh, what did you bring? It smells amazing.”

“It’s a cheesesteak.” He starts unloading the bag and places hoagie buns overflowing with thinly sliced steak, cheese, and toppings on the table.

I cock my head to the side. “Is the cheese, steak, and peppers made out of cheese?” Brooks is famous for his deconstructed food where a stalk of broccoli is made out of a piece of bread and mounted on a wedge of lettuce made out of the foam of the broccoli.

“No.” He shakes his head, almost frustrated with what I’d asked. “It’s a cheesesteak. Eat it.”

When Frankie and I don’t move fast enough, he barks, “Now.”

We’re at the table and have the hoagies in our hands in the next second.

“Do you think my food is weird?”

“No. It’s great.” I’m halfway done with the cheesesteak. It’s so fucking good that my eyes are about to roll into the back of my head. Frankie looks like she’s about to orgasm. I frown slightly. Am I jealous of a sandwich?

“Slater is ghosting me again.” Brooks interrupts my thoughts.

“Is it because of another man? I can go with you to beat him up,” I suggest.

Frankie clears her throat but I shrug in reply. I’m a “let’s hide the body” kind of friend. I set my sandwich down and get to my feet.

Brooks places a hand on my shoulder. “Better I do this myself.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have slept with the most famous food critic in town,” I call after his retreating back.

“She asked me to, and I didn’t know who she was at the time. Critics are supposed to be anonymous.” He slams the door behind him.

“Fair.” I return to my seat.

“What was that all about?” Frankie wants to know.

“A few weeks ago, Brooks was out of town getting pitched to be on a cooking show. He was at a hotel that this food critic, Slater fromMy Favorite Feeds?—”

“Oh, I love her TikToks.”

“Anyway, Brooks is not on social media, so when he ran into her and she was sad for some reason, he bought her a drink, and then she asked him to take her upstairs and that’s that.”

“And now she’s mad at him?”

“I’m not sure. She took off before Brooks could get her name or number, and he spent a lot of money tracking her down. I don’t know if she knows that he knows who she is yet.”

“But she would know he was Brooks Neal of The Plate.”

“Yup.”

“Complicated.”

“It is. Unlike us.” I wink. I reach for her plate and feel something snap in my shoulder. My eyes go wide before the pain washes over me like a wave taking me under. “Fuck,” I hiss. “I gotta call Doc.”

Chapter Twenty-One

FRANKIE

Kaden is on edge. He has been feeling this way for the past few days. I can’t say that I blame him. He’s stuck in the unknown. His whole career could be on the line. The doctor advised him to wait it out. His diagnosis was a small partial tear in his rotator cuff. They are hoping it won’t need surgery.

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