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But it’s my wad to untangle, so I’d better keep at it. The fact that my boss is also my father doesn’t make the thought of failing his first test any less stressful.
I’m about to dive back into the profit and loss statement from Harbor Home, our charity offering sanctuary to victims of domestic violence, when there’s a sharp knock on the door.
Noelle squeals and races across the room, making me smile. She and Ben have only been dating for four months and are still in the wildly-in-love phase. It’s adorable, and I’m so happy for her, even if Ben does come with a moderately annoying sidekick.
“Come in, come in, coffee’s almost done,” Noelle says, greeting Ben with a kiss on the cheek and a smitten grin. “Missed you.”
“Missed you, too,” Ben says in that soft, thoughtful way of his. As he steps inside, he lifts a hand. “Hey, Sydney.”
“Hey,” I say, but my greeting is drowned out by Adrian’s snarky, “You saw each other three hours ago, relax,” as he swaggers inside behind his friend.
I snort as I see what Mr. Moderately Annoying is wearing tonight. “I think you could fit another entire person in those pants.”
Adrian grins, his dark eyes dancing as he does a spin, making the shiny black fabric of his pants flare out even further. “You like? That designer who makes those puppet purses that blew up last spring made them for me.”
“They’re…big,” I say tactfully.
“And shiny,” Noelle adds, making Adrian frown.
“And cool,” he insists. “Tell them, Ben.”
“I thought they were a skirt at first,” Ben says, following Noelle into the kitchen to pour hot water over the freshly ground beans. “That would have been cool.”
Adrian sighs. “I’m surrounded by people with no fashion vision.”
“Hey, I’m a designer,” Noelle says. “I have vision. I just don’t think a giant pair of culottes made in parachute fabric is particularly visionary. Your butt is way too cute to cover up like that.” She sniffs and lifts her pert nose higher in the air. “If I were your designer, I’d play to your assets.”
“Aw, thanks.” Adrian winks at Noelle. “You’re a doll.” He glances my way. “What do you think, Syd? Is my butt too cute to hide? I know I’m the most annoying ex-boyfriend ever and don’t deserve a second of your attention, but my butt is pretty okay, right?”
I roll my eyes but can’t help smiling. He’s ridiculous, but beneath the bravado, he’s also painfully insecure. It’s something I’ve only realized lately, but it’s given me more compassion for my ex.
“I would go with your faux leather pants,” I say, studying his short-sleeved hoodie, a mishmash of black fabrics that looks like a junior high school kid made it on their at-home sewing machine, but probably cost a thousand dollars at some Soho designer’s pop-up shop. “The white ones. They’ll look better with your shirt.”
“Agreed,” Noelle says. “There are so many nice textures in that shirt, but you need a pop of something brighter to help bring them out.”
“Cool,” Adrian says. “I’ll change on our way out.” He crosses the room and plops down next to me on the couch. “As soon as I convince Sydney to come and play with us.”
“Sorry, can’t,” I say, my gaze fixed on my screen. “I have too much work.”
“It’s Friday night,” Adrian says.
“And I only have until next Friday night to finish,” I insist. “My dad threw me straight into the deep end.”
Adrian grunts, his tone markedly less cheery as he says, “Let’s not talk about dads. Mine is driving me fucking nuts. He insisted on coming to the fundraiser tonight to ‘support me,’ even though I told him it wasn’t a big deal. Now I’ll have to worry about babysitting him while I’m trying to woo investors.”
I make a sympathetic sound. “Sorry. But sounds like he’s trying to be there for you at least. That’s good, right?”
Adrian groans dramatically as he sinks lower into the couch cushions. “Fuck, I don’t know. Maybe, but I wish he’d picked another time. There’s so much on the line, and I’m already going to be off my game.” He turns his head my way, adding in a pained voice, “Gigi broke up with me last night.”
I arch a brow, wondering why he’s surprised—Gigi is a social climber who’s cheated on him twice since they started dating. But he looks truly upset about it. “I’m sorry,” I say. “That’s hard.”
“It is,” he agrees. “And it looks bad. What kind of loser can’t come up with a plus-one for his own event?”
“I’m sure you could find one if you tried,” I say, glancing toward where Noelle and Ben are canoodling in the kitchen as they add cream and sugar to their coffees. “Have you asked Noelle if any of her friends from fashion school are free? A lot of them are your type. They have that starving model with giant anime eyes aesthetic you love.”
He makes a dismissive sound. “That’s not always my type.” He smiles before adding in a silkier voice, “Sometimes I like a natural beauty with wavy strawberry blond hair and a heart of gold.”
I cut a sharp look his way. “No.”
