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Hmm. I could use some of her spunk. “How do you figure?”
“Who cares if you’re in a relationship? What does that have to do with business? That’s a sign of the patriarchy.” She sets down the bag on the counter with a defiant thunk.
And there’s nothing worse to this thirteen-year-old than the patriarchy. Well, except climate change and a lack of Wi-Fi.
“He is kind of paternal. Like a grandpa. But a good grandpa,” I say, defending Felix, since, as a businesswoman, I understand his point. He wants to avoid potholes and pitfalls. “He just doesn’t want to rent to somebody who’s going to break up and cause problems,” I say, trying to do a better job explaining where he’s coming from.
“But you’re not going to break up because you’re not, duh, together. Just make a deal with each other that you’re doing this cool shop, and you won’t be jerks.” She lifts her forearm, showing off her friendship bracelet, then shooting me a playful look. “Make friendship bracelets with your bar friend.”
I’d like to make more than friendship bracelets with Gage. She makes it sound so easy that I believe her. “But Gage and I would have to act like we’re in a relationship,” I say, and isn’t that the fly in the ointment.
She arches a blonde brow then looks me up and down. “Like you do every day at work? With the whole candymaker look. The dresses, the lipstick, the hair. What’s the big deal if you pretend you’re engaged for a few months? It’s not like Grandpa is going to follow you around. Oh, I have to make sure Elodie is having dinner with that guy. Let me make sure he kisses Elodie when he leaves the shop.”
I wouldn’t mind if Gage did. But I don’t say that. “True. All true.”
Amanda grabs her backpack and slings it on. “All you have to do is be flirty and friendly with Gage, and that’ll make Grandpa happy. The rest is none of his business. It’s just like wearing an outfit of the day for a few months. And your OOTD is engaged.”
On that mic drop, she heads to the door. “I’m hungry. Can we get an acai bowl?”
“An acai bowl is practically dessert.”
“It has peanut butter in it. Peanut butter is dinner. Also, I just gave you good advice. I earned dessert for dinner.”
Dammit. She has me there too.
As we leave, I start working on how to convince Gage to be as cool as Amanda.
13
THREE STRIKES
Gage
At the start of happy hour that evening, I do my best to put the disappointment behind me as I set down a beer for Carter and a scotch for Monroe. “And then to sell it to the judge and the jury, she said she accidentally sent me a book of love poems. She just came up with this romantic story on the fly,” I say, still downright impressed with Elodie even as I wish the tale had a different ending.
Carter smacks a big palm on the bar approvingly. “Dude, she is good.”
I flash back to Elodie’s finesse there in Felix’s office as I recount the tale for my audience of two—Carter’s the star receiver for the San Francisco Renegades. Monroe is a shrink and podcaster, and we’ve been friends for a long time. I’ve only gotten to know Carter recently, but he’s a good guy too and plays a mean game of golf.
“She sure is,” I say, a little regretful. I’m not sure what I’m missing most—another chance with her or the shot at the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Both, really.
Monroe clears his throat, all dry and deadpan as he lifts his tumbler. “But let’s get back to the part where you cock-blocked yourself with the first great date you’ve had in years. Tell me more about that.”
I groan in annoyance. “What choice did I have? You can’t bang a business partner. That’s just a fact.”
“Or your best friend,” Carter adds with a sly grin. He fell in mad love with his best friend and now they’re getting married soon.
I point at him. “You’re the exception. Not the rule.”
“And you ruled against your dick,” Carter adds.
“Yup. You put your dick on ice so you could go into business with her, and now you’re not in business with her. You should be drinking,” Monroe says, then toasts in obvious mock sympathy.
Carter clinks his glass to Monroe’s, then looks to me. With less ribbing in his tone now, he says, “You really should. But since the deal didn’t work out, does this mean you’re going to see her again?”
I blow out a breath, shaking my head. “I don’t think so.” And that’s a damn shame.
“But you’re not going to go into business with her?” Monroe asks, sounding perplexed.
