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Rafa and I walk to the unoccupied leather armchairs at the back of the Angry Rooster Café. It’s been weeks since we last spent time together by ourselves. With him managing the Dwelling app and me working through growing pains as Lopez Luxury expands to new neighboring lake towns, we have been busy.
There are some days I want to turn back the clock and relive the times when I woke up at five a.m. to work on a build with my dad, not drive to an office. Those were some of my happiest days, and the ones I think about more often lately.
I’m not cut from the same corporate cloth as my competitors, and it shows in every interaction I have. The desire to hire someone else to run the corporate side of the business rides me harder than ever lately, but I don’t have anyone I can trust with that kind of responsibility.
Rafa sinks into the leather chair. “I saw something interesting today on my drive into town.”
“What?”
“Someone listed one of the Founders’ houses.”
“Hm.” I take a sip of my iced coffee with extra caramel, caramel drizzle, and a splash of cream. The warm, sugary goodness hits my tongue, instantly elevating my mood despite the glaring man sitting across from me.
His head tilts. “It’s the same one you were looking into a few years ago.”
“It is.”
“Well…are you going to buy it this time?”
The sweet coffee slides down my throat like acid. “Why?”
His eyes narrow. “Because you’re not the type to let an opportunity like that go to waste. The land alone makes it one of the most valuable properties around.”
My stomach churns. “I’m teaming up with Dahlia on it.”
He raises a condescending brow. “And you thought that was a good ideabecause?”
“My mom asked me to.”
“Of course she did. She’s been planning your wedding since you both were in the womb.”
The plastic cup beneath my fingers bends from the pressure. “She’s worried about Dahlia.”
“So are the rest of us.” His scowl softens. “But that doesn’t mean you need to be her knight with a shining tool belt.”
“If a tool belt is shiny, it’s clearly for looks.”
“That’s not my point, and you know it.”
My shoulders stiffen. “I do, but that’s not going to be an issue.”
“What are you thinking, buying a house with her and fixing it up together like she did all those times with Oliver?”
Tension ripples through my body. “This isn’t like that.”
He stares.
“Do you have something you want to get off your chest?” My question comes out sharp.
“You’re making a mistake,” he grumbles.
“I don’t expect you to understand.” No one can, no matter how much they try.
Dahlia and I have a complicated history of antagonizing each other into being the best—and sometimes worst—versions of ourselves. That kind of connection doesn’t go away no matter how many years I spend wishing it had.
“I understand enough to recommend you don’t go teaming up with the woman you once were in love with.”
I rub at my stubbled cheek. “I know what I’m doing.”
