Page 22 of Quit Playing Games with My Heart

Gilbert just stood there and fumed at the guy for a second before turning and marching back into the café.

“You can’t let him get under your skin like that,” I told him as we walked past the curious line of people at the counter to the office. I sent Brian a reassuring nod as we went, but my mood had soured so much that I wasn’t sure it was as comforting as it could have been. Brian looked downright shook.

“He’s not under my skin,” Gilbert said as we continued on to the office. “But I’m definitely going to get the hell under his skin if he keeps this up and ruins our business.”

“Gil, what you just said is the exact opposite of not letting him get under your skin.”

“Common Grounds means everything to me,” Gilbert snapped, his frustration venting all over the place.

I could see there was more going on than annoyance over construction noise. “Okay,” I said, walking over to the desk and grabbing a piece of paper and a pen. “We need to sort a few things out and clear the air a little.”

I wrote “Do Not Disturb For Any Reason” on the paper, grabbed a piece of tape from the dispenser on the corner of my desk, then walked to the office door and posted the note. As soon as it was in place, I closed the office door and turned to Gilbert.

“What’s going on here?” I asked, moving back to my desk and sitting on the edge, arms crossed.

“What’s going on is that our lives and livelihoods are being threatened by an asshole who thinks way too much of himself,” Gilbert said, throwing his arms wide.

“No,” I corrected him as calmly as I could. “What’s really going on here?”

Gilbert made a frustrated sound and gaped at me. “Don’t you care about this place?”

“I do care about this place,” I said. “That’s why I’ve been working my ass off to find ways to bring in more customers and income. The games nights show a lot of promise for doing just that.”

“Well, good for you,” Gilbert said with a scowl. “You stick to your games and I’ll deal with the problem at its source.”

“I’m not sure that your method of dealing with things is the best way to handle this.”

“He’s going to make a mistake and knock the café down,” Gilbert said, way more upset than he needed to be. “What if that wall was important?”

“If you’re really that concerned about it, talk to Theo,” I told him. “He’s the architect, after all, and he’s as motivated as the rest of us to make sure this place remains unharmed and open.”

Gilbert huffed a breath and paced to his desk, then shoved a hand through his hair. “I hate all of this,” he said.

I did too, which he knew, but there didn’t seem to be much point in saying that. I still felt like something else was going on with Gilbert that went way beyond just the café. Diccon had mentioned finding out that Gilbert and Kyle Jameson actually knew each other and played in the same baseball league. God only knew what else was going on, but if it got in the way of⁠—

My thoughts were cut short as the office door opened and Brian stepped in without knocking. He held two mugs of coffee and had a hopeful look on his face as he said, “I thought you two could use a cup of⁠—”

“Can’t you read the sign?” Gilbert shouted at him, whipping to face Brian with such vehemence that coffee splashed over the rim of one of the cups as Brian’s hands shook.

It wasn’t lost on me that Gilbert used exactly the same words as Jameson had when he yelled, but that wasn’t what concerned me. I only cared about the look of absolute devastation in Brian’s eyes as he stood as still as an ice sculpture, eyes wide with panic. Maybe a little more panic than was justified.

“I’m sorry,” he squeezed out hoarsely. For a second, he swayed uncertainly, then dashed forward to put the two mugs of coffee on the corner of the desk. “I’m really sorry,” he whispered, then dashed out of the room like some sort of monster was following him, shutting the door behind him with a loud thunk.

I huffed out a breath and shook my head, rubbing a hand over my face. “Did you really need to be such an asshole like that?” I snapped at Gilbert.

“He should have read the sign,” Gilbert defended himself halfheartedly. “It’s a really clear sign.”

“He was just trying to be nice.” I reached for one of the mugs. The least I could do was to accept the offering Brian had tried to give us. “And you’re one to talk when it comes to charging in against the advice of a sign.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not just the sign. Brian doesn’t know how to follow written instructions,” Gilbert said. “I left a list of tasks I needed him to do the other day and he barely did any of them. He also used dishwashing liquid to clean the floor the other day for some reason.”

I frowned. Gilbert wasn’t really angry with Brian. Jameson was the one and only source of his ire at the moment. Bringing up those tiny mistakes Brian had made grated on me for some reason. He had used the wrong soap on the floor, but he’d said he was confused because they’d changed the label. It was a small detail, but it stuck with me for some reason.

“How about we keep my boyfriend out of this and deal with what’s really upsetting you?” I glared at my brother as I shifted to sit at my desk. “If you’re that concerned about a damn wall, go talk to Theo and see what he has to say.”

Gilbert huffed, glared right back at me, then marched to the door and out of the office. He slammed the door behind him.

I rolled my eyes, took another sip of coffee, and focused on finishing payroll. Gilbert had better be out there apologizing to Brian. He needed to grovel and beg for forgiveness after being so rude.