Page 32 of The Revenge Game
Although maybe I shouldn’t be surprised that making Justin laugh gives me satisfaction.
He and his friends degraded so much of my self-esteem in high school. They trained an entire school to see me as someone not worth listening to. So now, each time I make Justin laugh, it feels like I’m rewriting that history.
See, you were wrong about me. I am a good person. I didn’t deserve the way you treated me.
My throat tightens as Justin stands and heads to the kitchen.
He moves around his kitchen with easy confidence, getting out bowls and spoons. He’s made fresh cornbread too, which sits cooling on a rack.
“Do you want another beer?” he asks.
“Ah yeah, sure.”
He glances up at me. “Dinner will be ready soon if you want to wash up? The bathroom is the first door on the right.”
I let out a breath, trying to relax, as I go to the bathroom and wash my hands.
I stare at my reflection in the mirror. My cheeks have slight splotches of color.
This is all part of my revenge plan. I’ve just got to stay cool and make it through dinner.
When I return to the living room, Justin has everything set up on his dining table.
“It’s ready,” he says.
The chili is amazing. Spicy but not overwhelming, with chunks of tender meat and tomatoes that taste like they came from nature rather than a laboratory.
Since I became rich, I’ve had the chance to try some of the world’s most expensive food items. I’ve eaten Wagyu beef, sampled caviar from fish with better pedigrees than most people, and consumed desserts that looked more like art installations than food.
It might be due to the fact that right now, I should be eating plastic chicken masala, but Justin’s chili honestly rates up there with the best things I’ve ever eaten.
I can’t help the words spilling from me after my first few bites. “This is incredible.”
“Thanks,” Justin says. The tops of his cheeks tinge pink. “Though I feel like your standards might be slightly skewed by your relationship with microwave meals.”
“Just slightly,” I agree.
“This is actually a really easy recipe. My mom taught me how to make it when I was a kid because it was my favorite dish and I was always hassling her to make it. I guess she figured it would be easier if she taught me so I could have it whenever I wanted without bothering her.”
I can’t help a smile escaping me. “She sounds like a great mom.”
“Yeah. She is.”
Despite his words, something in Justin’s voice makes me snap my eyes up to him. His body language has shut down, his shoulders tensing like someone flipped an invisible switch.
His teeth catch his bottom lip as he stares into his bowl.
I get the feeling Justin has more to say, so I wait.
“She’s been through a rough time over the last few years, but she’s coming out of it now,” he adds finally.
“What type of rough time?”
He sips his beer before carefully setting it back on the table.
“She broke up with my stepfather about five years ago. He wasn’t a nice guy, and he managed to hide all their assets in trusts, so she was left with virtually nothing.”
I blink. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
