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“I know, babes. I know what it was.” She sets the remains down, sitting back on her haunches and looking up at me, matching my heartache. “I’m so very sorry, Layla.”
I nod. And cry. And sob. A lot.
“You should move in with me and Delphine.”
I shake my head, sucking in a deep breath to calm myself down enough so I can talk. “You only have a one-bedroom.”
Stella met the half-Black, half-Creole beauty from the South Bronx while she was finishing up culinary school in New York. Stella convinced Delphine to move back to Boston with her and they opened Stella’s here. It’s a farm-to-table restaurant that sources all local ingredients, oftentimes straight from Stella’s garden and greenhouse she has on top of the building the restaurant is housed in. It’s a massive success and they’re in the process of opening another restaurant in the South End closer to their place.
“We could move. I’ve been thinking about it anyway.”
I roll my eyes. “Shut up, bitch, and stop being so perfect and thoughtful. You’re not moving and certainly not for me.”
“What? Are you saying you don’t want to live with me?”
I laugh at the feigned hurt in her voice and it feels good, some of the tightness in my chest lifting with it. “I’m saying I don’t want to live with you and Delphine. The last thing I want to hear is you having sex every night. Oliver and Amelia’s place is fine until I can find something else.”
“You know Oliver is going to offer to buy you a place again. A thousand says Grandma will too.”
“I know, but I need to find my own way a bit.”
“I get it. I do. Growing up Fritz isn’t always as easy and glamorous as we make it seem.”
I smile at her teasing tone. I won’t lie, being part of the Fritz family is the best. I don’t care about the fame that comes with their name, and I don’t care about their billions either. About nine years ago, my sister Amelia reunited with Oliver Fritz at their ten-year high school reunion. They started with a fake engagement—long story there—and subsequently fell in love.
Oliver became the big brother I never had. He also adopted me when he married Amelia, so he’s not only my stepbrother, but he’s also a stepfather in a way since both he and Meils are fifteen years older than me. I even took his last name, becoming Layla Atkins Fritz. And once you become part of the Fritz family, that’s it. You’re theirs and they love big, and they love hard, and I can’t get enough of any of them.
She’s right—for Stella’s father and his siblings, it wasn’t always so easy and glamorous for them.
“Okay. Let’s grab whatever we can and then I’m taking you to the restaurant to get you drunk so you’ll tell me all about your hot one-nighter.”
An hour later I’m day drinking at the bar. Stella called in reinforcements in the form of my sister. I cried on Amelia’s shoulder, and she told me I can stay with them as long as I need to, and now she and Stella are grilling me on my one-nighter with Callan.
“He did what with you?” That’s Amelia and I start cracking up because I’m on my second cocktail now. Stella drops a plate of jambalaya—one of my favorite dishes ever—in front of me and I moan at how good and spicy that smells.
“I bet that’s how she sounded when he did it too.”
I shovel a hot bite into my mouth and nod my head as I chew. “It totally is. I mean, it was ridiculous and if I hadn’t had the day I had just had, I maybe, possibly, probably wouldn’t have allowed a stranger to go down on me in an office of a restaurant, but my fucks to give weren’t to be found.”
Amelia is staring at me, her gray eyes pensive. “I want to be upset in some older sister, former guardian kind of way, but it’s just not happening. First, because it’s freaking hot. Second, because you had a hell of a day and a round of dirty sex always helps that. I just don’t love the risks you took, but, yeah.” She shrugs.
“I can’t explain it. I just felt safe with him,” I defend. “I would never—could never—imagine doing that again.” I pause, thinking about that. “Maybe that’s a lie. I don’t know.” I wave her away. “Anyway, it was fun, and the sex?” I take another sip of my drink. “It was just as delicious and spicy as this jambalaya.”
It’s like three in the afternoon and the restaurant is closed between lunch and dinner so it’s just us right now. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be as vocal about this as I’m being.
Stella drops her elbows onto the bar top. “So then why did you bang and bounce?”
I give her an unimpressed look. “Because repeat dick isn’t in my playbook at the moment. I was with Patrick for two and a half years and spent a solid year of that swearing I wouldn’t fall in love with him because I had a goal, and my goal wasn’t to be fucked with. Then my goal and his goal lined up and it was like, yes, awesome, he’s my guy. Then after six months of living together, he feeds me some bullshit about how he loves me, but he needs to focus on school and maybe we just need a break and not a breakup and we fight about it and then he goes out and fucks Molly Lin the same goddamn night we call a break but not a breakup!”
Amelia pats my shoulder and I sag.
“I didn’t want to love him.”
“I know,” she says, giving me a sideways hug. “I had a shitty college guy too, remember?”
I wince. Her shitty college guy broke up with her because our parents had just died, and she had to move back to Boston to take care of me. Talk about devastating on multiple fronts.
“He was epically shitty,” I remark.And I love you for being the best sister on the planet.
