Page 6 of Never To Be Mine

“Oh my God.” She coughed, setting the cup down hard. “That tastes like rat piss.”

A few gasps rippled through the crowd. One woman actually laughed.

My face went hot. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “This is disgusting. And you’re out here making unsubstantiated health claims about a product that tastes like you poured acid over lettuce. Gross.”

I glared at her. “You have poor taste. Maybe you should stick with what you know.” I looked her up and down, doing my best to appear disgusted, but fuck me, those curves were fine. “I bet you’re a blast at parties.”

She smirked, apparently unbothered by my lame attempt to insult her.

I had grown up in a house full of brothers. That had armed me with a million jokes and insults I could toss out without hesitation. But I wasn’t going to get into that game with her. My drinks were good and they worked. Customers almost never asked for a refund.

She turned to address the crowd. I realized with growing horror that she was about to torch my entire booth. “Ladies and the very few gentlemen, don’t waste your money on this. If you want something that’s actually been tested and proven by experts, check out the Young at Heart booth. They have real credentials and real results.”

“Are you serious right now?” I stepped around the table. “You can’t just come to my booth and sabotage me. Who the hell are you? There’s a code and you’re violating every fucking rule.”

“You mean the code of telling the truth?” She met my eyes without flinching. “Screw your grifter code. I’m a truth-teller.”

Then she turned on her heel and walked away, her heels clicking against the concrete floor with infuriating confidence.

I stared after her, my mouth hanging open.

“Dude.” Toby appeared at my side, eyes wide. “What the hell just happened?”

“I have no idea.”

I should have been pissed. She’d just trashed my product in front of potential customers. She’d called my smoothie rat piss, for God’s sake.

But as I watched her disappear into the crowd, hips swaying seductively, I felt something else entirely.

Intrigue.

No one talked to me like that. Ever. Women usually melted when I smiled at them. Men either wanted to be my friend or compete with me. But this chick had looked at me like I was just another con artist. She hadn’t been impressed by my face or my pitch.

Toby raised his phone, still recording. “Dude, I got the whole thing on video. Should I upload this to our socials? The engagement would be insane.”

I shook my head, still staring after her retreating figure. “No. Send it to me privately. Don’t post a damn thing.”

He lowered the phone, eyebrows lifting. “You sure? That was some serious drama. Could get us views. People love that kind of thing. They’ll want the tea.”

“I’m sure.” I turned to him as irritation simmered. “And do some research on these Young at Heart people. Find out everything you can about the company. Who the fuck was that woman? If they want to get involved in my business, maybe I’ll get involved in theirs.”

Toby nodded, already tapping at his screen. “Got it, man. I’ll pull up their site and whatever else I can find.”

I crossed my arms, replaying her words in my head. The nerve of that woman. But beneath the fresh bruise to my ego, curiosity stirred. Who was she exactly, and why did she hate my product enough to march over and trash it in public? I needed answers before I decided on my next move.

And there would be a next move. She didn’t know me.

But she would.

3

JUNO

The spreadsheet on my monitor was a thing of beauty. Green numbers. Lots and lots of green.

I took another sip of my protein smoothie and felt the sweet rush of accomplishment. The trail mix acquisition had been my baby from start to finish. I’d spotted them at a smaller wellness event six months ago, tried their granola clusters, and known immediately they had something special.