Page 5 of Sugar & Shadows

The tacos did look delicious. And refreshingly trendy for small-town Vermont. My stomach grumbled, but I couldn’t eat a taco with my hands right now. I’d lose my edge in this standoff, and if I’d learned one thing in my career, it was that one should never give up a tactical advantage.

Gabe, clearly not having the same reservation, picked up a taco and took a big bite.

“I heard about you, you know,” he said, wiping his mouth with his napkin. “Heard you were a fixer. The person to call when things get ugly.”

Wow. Had my lore really made it all the way up here?

“Because I can handle it,” I said curtly, sticking with the cool persona. “I manage crises.”

“Because you’re willing to do ugly things?” Casually, he took another bite.

I bristled. I didn’t enjoy being on the wrong side of ethics, but it was part of the job on occasion.

“Someone has to do it,” I said. “Can’t solve actual problems with maple syrup and parades.”

He rolled his eyes. “Makes sense. You always did take losing a little too personally.”

Fury ignited inside me. Leaning forward, I locked eyes with him, ensuring he saw the anger there.

“I didn’t lose,” I snapped. “I got mono. One test, and my perfect GPA was shot.”

“Still counts.” He shrugged.

Shrugged.

“You were valedictorian by default,” I said, pulling my shoulders back. “I took harder classes, held down two part-time jobs, and didn’t have Mommy and Daddy taking care of my every need.”

He finished his taco and tilted his head, considering me. The jackass was so handsome and easygoing it made me want to rage. Not that I’d show him how he affected me. I was a pro at remaining icy cool.

Still, beneath the surface, I was ready to throw hands.

“It’s funny,” he said, picking up his beer. “All that power in Washington. Your big job and fancy clothes and degrees. But here you are, still the bad guy. Must be hard, coming home and slipping into second place again.”

Eye twitching, I ground my teeth, working to get a handle on my aggravation. I’d been attacked by a sheik’s bodyguards and private military contractors. Once in a private jet over the Indian Ocean. But never had I wanted to throttle a man so badly.

All the Zen, the breathing techniques, the therapy I’d done to ensure I wouldn’t crack, went straight to hell.

I picked up a taco, giving him a moment to bask in his insults.

Then I threw it.

The corn-shelled delicacy hit him in the chin with a wet slap. Sticky pork slid down the front of his shirt and a slice of fennel stuck to his jawline.

Silence fell over the brewery. Behind me, pint glasses clinked.

The two of us stared at one another.

The taco had barely hit his lap when it dawned on me that I may have overreacted.

Also, this would be major town news before I even made it to the parking lot.

Across the room, a phone was lifted. Dread swept through me. Great. This would be all over TikTok by morning.

Whispers spread across the space like wildfire.

“Taco.”

“She threw a taco.”