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“I got the Bond Street project.” I down the rest of my drink, and when Kate returns with Dom’s, she brings me another.
“That’s the last for him,” Dom says.
Kate diverts her gaze to me and nods before walking away.
“Are we celebrating? Because you don’t look like you want to throw confetti,” Dom says.
“Sorry, traffic and Annie’s twenty questions made it hard for me to get here.” Enzo sits down across from me. “I thought you weren’t inviting him.” He nods at Dom.
“Why would I not be invited?” Dom asks, picking up his drink.
Another waitress I’ve seen a few times approaches the table. “Hey, boys, I’m going to take over for Kate. She’s not feeling well.”
“Great. Now you’ve screwed us over.” Dom shakes his head in disgust.
I throw my hands in the air.
“What am I missing?” Enzo turns to the new waitress, whose name I never caught. “I’ll have a water and a goat cheese pizza. And I’ll be putting in a to-go order before I leave.”
I roll my eyes. “God forbid Annie gets her own lunch.”
“Strike one.” Enzo holds up his finger, his mouth pressed into a thin line.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I ask.
Dom blows out a breath and pulls out his phone, his thumbs scrolling along the screen.
“You keep knocking my relationship with Annie and I’m sick and tired of it. Yes, I love her, okay? Which means I do what she wants to do, and I grab her lunch when I’m out. But guess what, asshole, she does the same for me. When you love someone, you enjoy doing things that make them happy, so get over whatever it is that pisses you off about me doing things for her.”
Dom shuts down his phone. Both our mouths are hanging open.
“Well… okay,” I say.
“Seriously.” Enzo’s face is red like when he was thirteen and we teased him about how many showers he took and the nudie magazines in his closet.
“I’m sorry. I was just busting your balls. I didn’t know it bothered you so much.”
“Now you do.”
I eye Dom, and he cringes but distracts himself with his drink. When the waitress sets down Enzo’s water, I hope it cools him off. Out of the three of us, he’s the least likely to lose his shit. When Dom does, it comes as no surprise—he’s always a grump. But Enzo is pretty even-keeled unless something is really pissing him off, which in this case seems to be me.
“Why are we here anyway?” Enzo asks a minute later.
“Carm got that deal on Bond Street,” Dom says.
“You called me away from the office to celebrate?” Enzo asks with a tone of displeasure.
“No. I called you down here because with me in, that means Bella is out.”
“Ohh,” they say in unison, leaning back in their chairs, understanding the hurricane that’s about to hit shore.
“And this is going to ruin whatever the hell you two have going on with one another. Which is what exactly?” Dom asks.
“You tell me where you disappear to every weekend and I’ll tell you about Bella and me.”
Enzo glances at Dom then props his elbows on the table, staring at me. “It’s not usually something you’d care about. I mean, normally you’d skip the Hamptons for the rest of the summer, dodge her in the hallway at the office, and hope she goes bankrupt. Why do you care?”
Should’ve figured that the man who fell first would see right through me.
