Page 51 of Gin and Bear It

“Money isn’t everything,” Jada says.

Danika ignores her and her eyes skim over me in a way I’m very used to—she’s eyeing my tattoos, mostly. Some people are just curious, which I understand, but she seems annoyed by them. And by me. And by everything.

“I still can’t believe y’all are together. You don’t seem like you’d fit. Like, do you even know her favorite things? Like what’s her favorite movie?” Danika asks. “What’d she major in? What’s her favorite childhood memory?”

Should I guess? I’ve snooped around her apartment enough now to know that she loves movies from the early 2000s, history, and anything bright and colorful. But I don’t know about her major or her favorite childhood memory. Does Danika even know?

“It doesn’t matter,” Jada says quickly, grabbing my arm. “We know each other and we’re in love. Excuse us.”

She pulls us away a touch too fast to be seen as a normal out from an uncomfortable situation. I pull her along a bit farther so she doesn’t make the mistake of looking back. But she does before I can say anything.

“I wouldn’t look back again,” I say once we’re over near the stairs up to the deck. “She doesn’t trust us.”

“I know. I know.” Jada sighs and throws back her drink. “I fucked that up. I feel like I should have been smoother about it all. I feel like we looked guilty. Or at least I did.”

“Kind of,” I admit.

“Well, thanks.”

“I’m not going to lie to you about it,” I say.

She squeezes the bridge of her nose like she’s trying not to cry.

“It’s not that big a deal,” I say softly. “She’s just rude and bitter.”

She swallows. “I feel like this is a bigger deal. It’s just a gut feeling.”

I don’t want to dismiss her feelings—she knows her cousin more than I do, and her cousin seems money-hungry enough to try to contest the will. But proving someone is “in love” is damn near impossible, so what could her cousin possibly do now?

FIFTEEN

ASH

Danika aside, the rest of the party goes smoothly. All the chats we have are surface level, nothing deep enough to challenge our relationship.

But everyone seems happy for us, aside from Waylon, who’s still icy to me but not to Jada. Even so, it’s a little draining to be “on” for a whole afternoon. Jada drives us back home. A car trails behind us the whole time, but I don’t think much of it.

The next morning (after our now daily awkward extraction from a sleepy snuggle), I decide to go to Sarah Jane’s before heading into the bar for my hands-on training. A similar car pulls onto the main road behind me and trails me on the short drive into town.

I’m not crazy. Someone is following me.

Maybe I should have walked so I could confront them alone.

I find street parking and wait to see if the car keeps going, but it parks a few cars down. After waiting a bit, I go into the bakery, where Sarah Jane is behind the counter.

“Hey!” She rests her hands on the counter. “What’s up?”

“Not much.” A huge mirror hangs behind her, and I see the person leave the car and come in behind me. My heart rate picks up. “Can I get a coffee with cream and whatever pastry you think I’d like? I left my wallet in the car, though, so I’ll back in a second.”

“Uh, alright?”

She starts ringing me up as I dip back outside, glancing at the man. He’s probably around my age, but shorter and a bit husky. I don’t recognize him at all.

I actually did leave my wallet in the car, but I take my time digging it out. By the time I get it, the man is leaving with a coffee. He doesn’t spare me a second glance.

When I get back in, Sarah Jane is putting my pastry on a plate.

“Did you catch that guy’s name?” I ask.