Page 47 of Best Served Cold


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I knew the answer to that, and she knew I knew it. I raised my eyebrow as she squirmed on the seat.

I won that round.

Marnie sniffed and got up. “Whatever. I’ll go ask Rae instead.”

“If she’s still there. Even if she is, she’s probably in the bathroom cleaning up the tissue.” My lips twitched.

“What?” Marnie frowned.

“Never mind. Go away. I have work to do.” I waved my hand at them, and they disappeared quickly. Thank God. I didn’t have the time to amuse my sister’s nosiness today.

I didn’t actually have work to do, and I did have the time, but it felt better to tell myself that I didn’t.

Instead of going home, I created work. I deep-cleaned the entire front of the store, and by the time I was done, my fingers were wrinkled, and my stomach was rumbling.

A glance at the clock told me why. It was almost six p.m. I’d be annoyed if the place wasn’t sparkling and smelling like lemon—or whatever the shit was in that cleaning stuff Marnie had bought last week.

I grabbed my stuff and locked up, pausing outside Best Served Cold. I didn’t think seeing Rae twice in one day after last night would be a good idea, especially since I’d had to leave before I’d kissed her again.

I didn’t think that would work in my favor.

A loud thump came from inside, quickly followed by a smash, and I instinctively reached for the door. It was unlocked, swinging open with one hard push. “Rae?”

She walked out from the kitchen, rubbing the side of her head. “What?”

“What the hell was that noise?”

She winced, hand still on her head. “I was reaching up for a glass on the shelf, but I didn’t stack them right. I nudged the plastic tub full of tubs I’ll never use. That fell on my head and on its way down, took two sundae glasses with them. There’s glass all over the floor.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose and stepped inside. “How the hell does anyone think you’re able to run a business without supervision for your safety?”

“Starting to wonder that myself,” she muttered. “I just wanted to make a sundae.”

“At six p.m.? Aren’t you hungry?”

She glanced up at me, muttering again. This time I couldn’t hear her, and she darted into the kitchen before I could ask what she’d said.

I shut the door behind me and followed her through to the back. It was fucking carnage. Two sundae glasses had not only just broken on the floor—they’d shattered, and the bright lights glinted off the tiny pieces that coated the floor.

Ingredients were everywhere, and there was a smear of neon green across the floor near where Rae was standing. She herself had purple and pink patches on her arms, and what the hell was in her hair?

“What in the ever-loving fuck have you been doing back here?” I blinked at her.

“Trying to take over the world, clearly,” she snarked. “Are you going to help me clean up or are you here to watch while I do it all?”

“I’d prefer to watch,” I admitted. “But in order to save myself from the murder in your eyes right now, why don’t you pass me that broom and I’ll get started?”

She passed me the broom with a wry smile on her face.

“Are you aware you look like you had a fight with a box of coloring pens?”

Rae sighed and looked at her arms. “I can’t focus today. Hence why I’m still here, eating ice cream for dinner and hoping I won’t be done with work until midnight.”

I paused mid-sweep. Right. Her mom had shown up this morning. “Avoiding your mom?”

“Like the plague.” She shrugged a shoulder. “I’m a selfish bitch, I know, but it’s been two years, we’ve barely spoken, and I just don’t think I can cope with it right now.”

“Everything happens in threes.”

“Great. I can’t wait to see what else gets thrown at me this week.” She huffed out a big breath and opened the dishwasher. “It’s not hellish enough.”

I emptied the dustpan in the trash and continued sweeping. “It can still get better. I mean, from your perspective, it can’t get much worse, can it?”

“You’re not making me feel better.”

“Hey, you could be me. You could have told your ex you still love them and had them not say it back.”

She froze and side-eyed me. “I hope you’re going somewhere with that, Chase.”

“Not really. I was just pointing it out.” I smirked. “It could be worse.”

She threw a towel at me.

“The last time you did that, you ended up with a bathroom full of wet tissue paper. And, the last time you took a towel to me, I ended up whipping your ass with it.”

“Whatever. I won both fights, and you know it.”

“Did you?”

“Well, one of us had to leave, and it wasn’t me who walked away from the fight.” She shrugged and finished loading the dishwasher.

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