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“Thanks.”
“Yeah, I’m glad to hear it. And I hope you don’t mind, Delani, but I have a favor to ask. I need you to stay closed on the 14th. I have some people coming for a tasting and I can’t have the bar smelling like a candy store?—”
The blissful post sex haze I’d been floating in abruptly left me. His words were like a bucket of ice cold water thrown in my face.
“I’m sorry, what?” I asked, stopping his gentle swaying.
I must have heard him wrong. At least, that was what I had thought. But no.
Sonny repeated himself and it was worse the second time around.
He spoke with such certainty that I would follow his instructions in this as easily as I had when it came to sex.
The nerve of this bitch.
Sonny Delgado, bar owner, was asking me, Delani Whitman, to close my chocolate shop on the busiest day of the year because of some little whiskey tasting with potential investors.
This prick. Oh my God!
My elation deflated. I was pretty sure my sexy neighbor had just fucked me to get his way.
“Let me get this straight. You think the smell of chocolate and candy might impede this tasting, did you call it?”
“Uh, yeah, I mean, it’s whiskey,” he said slowly like I was an idiot. “This doesn’t have to be a big deal.”
“Doesn’t it?” I asked, moving away from him.
“Delani, look,” he grumbled, cupping the back of his neck as he spoke. “Chocolate is all fine and good, but I am trying to get my whiskey label off the ground, and I need these investors and their connections.”
“What does that have to do with my shop?”
“A successful tasting hinges on my ability to produce the right atmosphere, striking the right atmospheric notes so they can really enjoy the complex flavors and true quality of the liquor.”
“And you think my chocolate will ruin the quality of your bar?”
“No. I am not saying that. It’s just one day?—”
“Get out,” I whispered, anger and humiliation rising along with the bile in the back of my throat.
“What?” Sonny asked, clearly confused.
Asshole.
“Delani, when I said I need you to not be here on Valentine’s Day, I didn’t mean because of another woman?—”
As if that was the only reason I had to be pissed.
“Get. Out.” I repeated firmly.
“Del—”
“GET OUT!” I screamed.
I waited until he shrugged into his pants, ignoring his efforts to speak to me again before I locked the door after him.
Only then did I slide to the floor and lean against the door, letting the emotional rollercoaster that was my day wash through me.
First, Pete’s betrayal.
