Page 5 of Cluelessly Yours

Real talk: My seven-year-old Seth is a bit of a troublemaker, and because of all the class distractions he’s caused Ms. Dayton this year, I felt compelled to find a way to repay her. Too bad for my famous author sister, I volunteered her as my personal tribute.

“You’re lucky that Vinny is your soon-to-be brother-in-law and that you’re one of his wife’s favorite people. He doesn’t make special batches of chicken parm for just anyone.”

Truth be told, I’m incredibly lucky too. Vinny and his wife, Mo—short for Maureen—are such great bosses. I met them through Chase—Mo is his older sister—and I’ve been working as the general manager at their restaurant La Croisette ever since I moved my boys and myself from a house—where Icould hardly take a shit with the doors on—in midwest Ohio to New York City.

Make that thrice we’ve landed on the wholelong storything.

Brooke just grins and shamelessly takes the purse off my shoulder, opening the takeout container inside to get a whiff.

“Jeez, Brookie. Tell me you’re not going to eat that right now, on this stage, in front of all these kids.” My voice melts into a whisper. “Anarchy will ensue, and quite frankly, I’m probably already on this school’s no-fly list, thanks to my son trying to earn Class Clown MVP for the year.”

“Relax. I just needed a little hit.”

Noah chuckles, and for the first time since I’ve arrived, I allow myself to look at him directly.

Of course, like always, he looks damn good. Thick dark brown hair, intense blue eyes, strong jaw, and the kind of full lips that could serve as Webster’s definition for “kissable,” the attractiveness that is Noah Philips is impossible to miss.

It’s for the best that he’s an anesthesiologist forpediatricpatients. Any adult woman who would have to look up into his eyes during surgery would be at risk for heart palpitations, and the hospital would no doubt be dealing with litigation from insurance companies over too many unnecessary surgeries as women tore themselves up for a chance to have him put them to sleep.

Despite what my sister thinks—and has pushed on me to the point of annoyance—I havenobusiness trying to date someone like him.

His magnetism rivals the intensity of the sun, and I’m nothing more than a messy mortal.

“Hi, Noah,” I greet, but my voice comes out a little self-conscious. I involuntarily tuck some of my wildly escaping hair behind my ear as a distraction. “Thanks again for doing this for me.”

“Of course.” He smiles up at me, bright and beaming, and I try not to let it go to my head. “I just wish I’d known we were allowed to ask for La Croisette food bribes. I could really go for some white-wine-soaked mussels right now.”

Brooke kicks at my ankle, knocking the bone with the least funny of thuds. “Ow.” I wince, picking it up to rub at it.

Her expression is a fraud of apology. “Sorry, my reflexes have been super freaky this trimester.”

Super-freaky reflexes, my ass.

“Yeah, well, I’ll only be accepting bribes from pregnant people at this time, and even my generosity with that is starting to dry up.” I shoot Brooke a glare—she just smiles, hugging the container of chicken smugly.

“Damn. That’s too bad.” Noah’s smile deepens, and I have to look away from the blinding light. His perfect features are a solar eclipse, and thanks to a shitty ex-husband, young kids, and a tough divorce, I don’t own any of those special glasses. All my defenses are dried up. If I let myself succumb to Noah’s charisma, everything inside me—that’s barely hanging on by a thread, mind you—is sure to shrivel up.

Plus, there isno waythis is the type of man who is looking for a woman with my kind of baggage. He’s perfect. His life is perfect. And my life is…a well-contained dumpster fire on a good day. On a bad day? That fire has spread to every building within a one-mile radius, and the world’s best firefighters struggle to get it under control.

But seeing as he is smack-dab in the middle of doing me a giant favor, I don’t leave him hanging. “Come by the restaurant one night when you get a chance, and I’ll make sure to slide you some mussels to-go at no charge.”

Noah smiles again, but this time, I hold it without looking away.And what a fucking mistake that is.“A chance to see one of my favorite Baker sisters and free food?” He shakes his head just slightly—playfully. “That’s one hell of a good deal. Count me in, Sammy.”

I force myself to smile through the blush I can feel tingling in my cheeks and strongly caution my tongue against its growing urge to stutter. “Well, I do owe you. Seriously, thank you for showing up for something some crazy woman just signed you up for in the name of making amends for all of her kid’s sins.”

“No thanks necessary,” Noah says through a soft chuckle.

“Get real, Noah,” Brooke chimes in. “Thanks are definitely necessary in this scenario. Maybe a little groveling too.”

“Ignore your sister. I’m happy to help.” Noah reaches out to gently squeeze my wrist for a beat. “Promise.”

His touch, while completely platonic and minor, feels way too good.

I chance a small glance at Brooke, although, I don’t linger. I can only imagine she’s feeling like a pig in shit right now, watching this interaction. She’s been trying to push us together formonths,undeterred by my repeated and certain decree that a fleeting romance with eligible bachelor Noah Philips would be the end of me.

“I really do appreciate both of you coming here and doing this.”

“Yeah, yeah. We’re the best,” Brooke replies with a teasing wink. “Now, I see Ms. Dayton heading this direction, so why don’t you duck and cover and find somewhere to hang out while we get this over with?”

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