Page 19 of Don't Remind Me
For a moment, I’d thought I could trust them. Even more so when Jase offered me that drink.
Here was my reminder that instincts weren’t always sensible. Feelings could lie. I couldn’t let them get the better of me again.
This was the first crack in the glass this symposium sat on.
One more and the whole thing might shatter.
Chapter Eight
Jase
Me:At work. I’ll call you tomorrow.
I shotoff the text as I reached the bottom of the office stairs and shut off my phone before slipping it into my pocket. It probably made me a horrible son, but in all fairness, I had already talked to my mom once this week. Any more than that felt like overkill.
Alec probably didn’t go more than two days between check-ins. Then again, he also didn’t get lectured on what an awful disappointment he was during every conversation with her. Even Dr. Ohara agreed it was okay for me to take some space from my family when I needed it, and I’d taken a hell of a lot more than a week between phone calls in the past. She could survive one more day.
“Jase.”
I paused at the door to the kitchen and turned to where Dani sat at the middle of the bar with a paper and pen in hand. She hopped off her stool and rounded the counter, drawing my eyes to her long legs. The skirt she wore hugged her hips perfectly, ending just below her knee, a flash of thigh peeking out through the short slit with her every step.
My blood warmed as images I’d fought for weeks assaulted my mind. Running my hand up that leg and brushing my fingers over the sensitive skin behind her knee. The soft gasp that would escape her lips and turn to a sigh as I inched up her skirt to trail my touch along her inner thigh, see if her skin there was even softer than it looked everywhere else. How her hips would seek me out, begging me to go higher.
My cock stirred, and I forced my thoughts to the ten pounds of raw shrimp waiting to be deveined in the kitchen. Chef pants did almost nothing to hide an erection, and the last thing I needed was for my little brother’s ex-girlfriend to see that. Especially when she was the cause.
She stopped in front of me and held out the paper, her blue-green eyes intense with concentration. It did nothing to ease the stiffness in my pants.
“I need you to look over the rental form to confirm the plateware order is correct. I’ll be placing it this afternoon, so if we miss anything, you’re stuck with what the hotel has on hand, and they may not have enough.”
“I already checked it over,” I said. “Twice.”
We’d finalized the last of the menus earlier in the week, making plateware the last major catering task that needed to be handled until much closer to the actual event. It also meant Dani wouldn’t have a reason to be here anymore. I tried not to think about how that made my stomach twist.
“Okay, well, can you do it again?” She shook the paper at me.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Three times is a bit excessive, isn’t it? Or more like six since you’ve probably triple-checked it yourself. Am I right?”
The blush in her cheeks as she narrowed her eyes told me I was. And while I was all for being thorough, I got the sense something more was going on here.
“I just want to be sure there are no mistakes.”
“There aren’t. I know because I already double-checked.”
Her eyes fell closed on an exhale before she opened them to glare at me. “Can you just check again, please?”
“Exactly what kind of catastrophic mistake do you think could come from a plateware order form?” I asked instead. “I mean, having to use salad bowls instead of soup bowls wouldn’t be ideal, but it isn’t the end of the world.”
She finally dropped her arm and stormed her way back to her seat. “Yeah, well, some mistakes can’t be so easily fixed.”
I followed on my side of the bar. “What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said.” She slammed the order form onto the counter and slid back onto the stool.
“Is this about the article?” I asked. “Because that wasn’t your mistake.”
I knew there’d been some uproar online over the health clinic. Jillian felt awful, especially since Ardena’s mention had been a blip compared to the pummeling Dani received, but I didn’t see that as Jillian’s fault either. As far as I was concerned, the only one responsible was that asshole reporter who’d set out to stir up outrage from the start.
I’d never been so tempted to spit in someone’s food. Not that he’d ever be welcome in one of my restaurants again, as long as I had a say.
