Page 75 of Cocky Brutal Sinner

Brinley

Don’t worry, Eden’s a whiz with a spreadsheet.

Cat

This is perfect! She can use photos from the parties for her portfolio. She told me that clients really wanted to see events in Toronto, to prove she knows the vendors.

Maura

Could you have Eden send me her portfolio? I can give it to the Whitmer Gallery. They host events all the time, and I bet they could use her.

Brinley

100%!! She’s coming by for an afternoon shift soon, I’ll ask her then.

Selfishly, this is perfect for me because it gives Eden a real reason to stay in Toronto.

Pippa

Well, we’re all being selfish then because Eden’s really cool and I also vote that she never leaves.

Maura

Seconded!

Cat

We should do a group dinner with Eden and come up with ideas.

Pippa

Or a sleepover! We’ll kick Ryan out of the apartment, do face masks, eat ice cream, plan parties, and be menaces.

Cat

Sounds like a plan.

I send a thumbs up. I’m thrilled to see the girls rallying behind Eden. Even though she made a great first impression, I know why they’re really helping her—because she’s my friend. Cat, Pippa, and Maura have been unflinchingly supportive of me in every way, but that’s all about to crumble away. Once they find out that I’m Peppermint, it will unleash a storm of betrayal, anger, and broken trust that will sever the friendships that have come to mean so much to me.

They’ll leave me alone, and it’ll be all my fault.

When I check the clock, I realize that my lunch break has zoomed by in the baby shower planning haze. I scarf down the last bites of croissant and head back to the store. I find Trevor behind the café counter, his face so red that it’s practically burgundy.

“Hey, I’m back, so you can leave whenever you want,” I tell him.

Trevor turns toward me, a dazed look on his face. “Oh. You’re back.”

I frown. Trevor can be spacy at times, but this is beyond, even for him. “You okay, Trevor?”

“I’m fine,” he says quickly. “I don’t have to leave right away, either. I can stay a little longer.”

“You don’t have to. Eden should be here any minute to help out. Don’t you have class to get to?”

“Excuse me,” an Italian-accented voice says. Suddenly, the reason for Trevor’s weird behavior comes into horrifying focus. Giulia stands at the counter, wearing a tight red sweater that emphasizes her gorgeous figure, making me wish I could melt into the ground and cease to exist. She’s here, in my shop, treading on my territory, the place where I’m supposed to stay safe from threats to my relationship and rogue Italian supermodel chefs.

“How can I help you?” Trevor asks her eagerly.

Giulia’s eyes have already traveled to me. “You’re Brinley, yes? We met at Terrace Steakhouse.”