Page 27 of Almost Perfect
“You’ll be fine. You’ve got the baseline. A few weeks of relaxing from your routine won’t kill ya,” he said, then took another sip.
A petite blonde woman ducked out from the back room, brows raised and looking at Garrett. Soon, her eyes shifted to take in Warrick, but she skirted by him to greet some older men at the table occupying the other half of the space.
Big rumbles of good-natured laughter rose and fell. The woman leaned down and pressed a kiss to a wrinkled cheek and gave the group a big smile before she turned our way.
“Ah, there she is.” Warrick smiled as the woman wiped her hands on a pristine white towel she had tucked into the apron strings that crisscrossed at her tiny waist. “This is Sadie Miller, the mastermind behind all the baked goods and really everything here at Rise and Shine. And this is Calla. She’s staying up at the little StayBnB at the ranch.”
I beamed up at her. “You’re a genius. It’s so nice to meet you.”
She nodded, a small close-mouthed smile tilting her lips. “Thank you. Likewise.”
“Just wanted you two to meet. Sorry to disturb.”
He shot Sadie a look I hadn’t seen before—something… wary. Like maybe he shouldn’t have asked her to come out, assuming that’s what he’d done minutes ago.
“No problem. I should get back.” She nodded at me again, then turned and disappeared in what had to be record time.
Warrick raised a brow at me over his coffee mug. Before he took a drink, he said, “She hates me.”
“No way. No one could hate you.”
“Nah, she does. Always has.” He squinted after her.
I bet it bothered him to no end that someone disliked him. It probably happened so rarely.
I could relate to that feeling. I’d had it for years. Not so much the likable part, but the niggling feeling between my shoulder blades and the drop in my gut when I thought about people disliking me. Or in my case, not just disliking me, but outright and vocallyhatingme. A woman who wasn’t ashamed of her body and had a fair amount of fame and wealth? No matter what she did, she’d incur wrath from certain people.
Add to this that controversy had followed me—my label had helped fuel the fires early on to help build that bad-girl rep, and then the last few years, everything had basically spiraled out of control and just outright sucked. Well… yeah.Hatewas unfortunately the right word.
I could admit that was no small part of why I’d fled. It became harder as I got older to brush it off, especially when I understood it. Why was I even still out there? The last two albums I’d made had flopped. I didn’t want to face the third in my current contract. The whole thing with Candy, and the mess with Bri… I needed rest.
So here I sat.
“I find that hard to believe. She came out because you asked, right?” I tried to focus back on the now. On the new friend-type person in front of me.
“No, really. She’s hated me since high school.” His eyes darkened a touch. “I think she’s cordial because she can’t stand not to be. And I’ll admit I try to provoke her now that I’m back.”
“Now that you’re back?” It occurred to me I knew nothing about him. It was odd after so many years working with the same people in what had become a very small and thick-walled little bubble. I had realized we were probably at Silverton High together for half a minute, but he would’ve been a year ahead, I figured. I’d kept to myself so much, it made sense, and as for me, so much of those years was a blur, so I wasn’t surprised I didn’t make the connection sooner.
He flashed his brows again, that expressive face purely boyish and adorable, if it weren’t for how darn handsome he was. Jane Saint had some seriously good-looking sons.
“You’re not the only fancy pants around, you know?”
“Oh, really? I demand a refund!” I said with a slap on the table.
“Oh, I’m sorry, ma’am,” Garrett said from the spot next to our table where he’d materialized in seconds.
“Nah, buddy, she’s fine. She’s joking.” Warrick waved him off, and I watched Garrett’s shoulders deflate with relief.
“Wow, he’s good.”
Warrick nodded. “He is. He’s a hard worker. Been here for years.”
“So you have fancy pants too?” I prompted.
He pressed his lips together and nodded, making a doofy littleI’m super cool and you don’t even knowface.
“I played ball. Pro. For a solid three point five seasons.” Then he shrugged.
