“Nope.”
That earns me a punch in the arm. “You are such a cad sometimes.”
I shrug because she isn’t wrong.
Libby closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose, exhaling an exasperated sigh. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this,” she mutters under her breath before looking back at me. “Sunny-D.”
Nowthatrings a bell. And the nickname hadn’t been Sunny-D, but rather Sunny Double-D…for obvious reasons. I glance back at the photo. “I remember her now. She’s cute.” She’s also definitely had some work done.
“Hell yeah, she’s cute.” Libby slips her phone back into her pocket. “And she used to have a huge thing for you back in high school.”
“She did, huh?” No surprise there. I was kinda a big deal back then. Which isn’t really anything worth bragging about, considering we were inShitSprings.
“Yeah. So, Alex and I were thinking that you could work your voodoo magic and convince Sunny to give us the spread.”
I deadpan, “You want me to whore myself out for a magazine article?”
Her face pales and she starts shaking her head, looking over her shoulder like someone’s going to tell her she’s a shitty person for suggesting something so unethical. “God, no. That’s not what I meant at all—”
“No worries, Lib. I’ll do it.”
She blows out a relieved breath. “You will?”
“Sure. Why not?” It’s not like I have anything better to do that day. My sisters won’t let me hole up in my apartment. I can show Sunny around town, take her for some food, and do whatever else is required of me. As long as the locals point their rude stares in other directions, I’m good.
Libby says she’ll organize the details, and I high-tail it out of the office before anyone else can corner me. On my way through the warehouse, a few of the workers wave, but thankfully, no one tries to strike up a conversation.
Once I’m back in the store, I check my phone and find a text from Iris. Ella has an ear infection, so I’m off the hook for babysitting tomorrow too. When you’re sick, you want your mom. Simple as that. I can totally relate. I got food poisoning once, and Mom flew all the way to Texas to take care of me.
My chest starts to tighten. I’m not gonna break down here. No, sir. Operation distraction engaged.
My stomach rumbles. Food sounds like the perfect distraction.
I meander through the towering shelves of cereal to an endcap display of frosted cookies that look damn good. I grab a box and continue on to the next aisle where, low and behold, I run into my very cute neighbor.
I haven’t seen Jade since crashing her date with the biggest asshole on the east coast. Had I done that on purpose? Hell no. Had I loved every second of watching that prick squirm? You betcha.
I’d gone down to Quinn Brothers this morning for milk, but Jade hadn’t been there yet. Which left me wondering if she came home last night or if she’d stayed with Robocop.
Not that it matters. If short, rotund dickheads are her type, she’s found her perfect match.
Jade has a container of locally made chutney in one hand and her phone in the other. I hear the telltale click of a camera and can’t help but wonder why she wants a picture of chutney.
“What do we have here?” I say, sidling up next to her.
Jade shrieks and the phone flies out of her hand, landing at my feet. She presses a palm to her chest, her face turning the same shade of pink as her sweater. There are no yoga pants today, but the tightly fitting jeans are a decent consolation prize.
“Holy shit, Dylan. You scared me.”
“Why? Thinking about shoplifting?” I bend down at the same time she does, but I get to her phone first.
“Of course not.” She wiggles her fingers at me. “May I have that back, please?”
Maybe it makes me a dick, but I have this overwhelming urge to swipe through her pictures. The angles are basic, and she’s been using the flash, so there’s a glare on everything. And would you look at that? She doesn’t have only one photograph of chutney, she has a whole gallery full of random condiments and jams, as well as candles and their price tags.
Now, I may not be very knowledgeable about business, but I can only think of one reason the owner of a rival store would be taking pictures of our prices. “You’re a spy, aren’t you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She swipes for the phone, but I turn at the last second and block her with my shoulder. “Can I please have it back, Dylan?”
