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I shake my head. “Eddie and I stopped.”
“He took you to Pacific Beans?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow. I had to catch two waves in a row before he brought me there. Took me five sessions.”
“Well, that definitely didn’t happen.”
“You couldn’t get up?”
I glance up, and there’s a pause where pink crawls across her cheeks.
“On the board, I mean. You couldn’t get up on the board?”
I smirk, my gaze dropping to the plate as I finish heaping eggs on it. “Maybe if you’d been there.” I’m flirting, and it’s a fucking terrible idea. But letting last night fester between us doesn’t seem smart, either.
The dynamic between us changed the second I kissed her last night. Grown-up actions should come with grown-up behavior. We’ve handled being married as maturely as possible. Acting like two hormonal teenagers who fooled around for the first time and then pass each other in the hallway, pretending not to know each other doesn’t seem like the right way to handle this.
Hannah says nothing as I take the stool beside her. But she doesn’t move away when my knee accidentally brushes hers.
I shovel a bite of eggs into my mouth, suddenly starving. They’re cooked perfectly, light and fluffy and not over-salted.
“What are you working on?” I ask, nodding toward the screen.
“Just reviewing a contract.”
“When are you going to tell your dad about architecture school?”
“If I don’t get in, never.”
“And when you get in?”
There’s a lot I don’t know about Hannah.
But Idoknow she’s one of the smartest, most dedicated people I’ve ever met. That was driven home over and over again during the croquet game last night. If I was a gambler, I’d put all my money on her. If she wants to be an architect, I can’t picture a world in which she won’t become one.
“I don’t know. I don’t want to…disappoint him.”
“He’ll be happy for you, Hannah.” I’m equally certain of that. Because I’ve seen a father who only views his child in terms of the value they bring to the family business. And that man isn’t Dean Garner.
“What about you?” she asks, turning on her stool so she’s facing me.
I swallow another bite of egg. “What about me?”
“Do you want to work at Kensington Consolidated?”
Oddly enough, it’s a question I’ve never been asked before. It’s always been expected I would, like my life was a highway without exits ending at a single destination. I guess the logic is, whywouldn’tI? My family founded one of the most powerful, successful companies to ever exist. New employees walk into the building with wide eyes and awed expressions, disbelieving they’ll be working within the legendary four walls. Walking away from that legacy would be a shocking betrayal.
“I’m good at it. I like it.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
My fork plows through the yellow pile on my plate. I take another bite. Swallow. “Say you had a client come to you. His grandfather was the general manager for this underdog team. Built it up from nothing, made it into something. His father played for them, setting all the records. And they make him an offer. Give him a chance to contribute to the legacy. To add his name to the history books. If he signed, would you ask him why he wanted to play?”
“So it’s pride?”
I exhale. “It’s complicated, is what it is.”
