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Eli: “Emergency.” Right. Tell Kayla I said hi.
Me: No. And what’s with the quotation marks?
Eli: Just that next time you tell Kaden that he’s whipped, I’ll remind you of this.
Me: Fuck you. I’m not whipped. I’m working.
Eli: And you owe me dinner.
Me: Who says I was going to make you dinner?
Eli: Why do you think I invited you over?
Me: Asshole.
Eli: Bastard.
Me: I’ll see you next weekend.
Eli: Yes, you will. And you’d better bring food or I’ll kick your ass.
Me: Come try it.
Eli: Or Raina will slip poison into your whiskey.
I heave a deep sigh, because I know he’s not kidding about that one. Raina would never outright kill me, of course. But she’s an incredibly skilled chemist so I know that there are lots of other things she could put into my drink that would make me do whatever she wanted without it being fatal.
With a faint smile tugging at my lips, I shake my head at my unhinged brother and his even more unhinged girl as I type out a reply.
Me: Fine, I’ll make you dinner next weekend.
Kayla finishes her call with her father right as I slip my own phone back into my pocket as well.
Her father’s guards give the two of us a nod, button their suit jackets, and then stride away. Kayla relaxes the moment they’re gone. I convince myself that it’s only because they were making her stand out with their highly conspicuous black suits in a grocery store on a Sunday afternoon.
Grabbing the shopping cart, I start down the aisle before she has realized what’s happening.
“Hey,” she calls as she scrambles after me. “What are you doing?”
I grab some things from her cart and put them back on the shelf. “You can’t use these.”
“Why not?”
Picking up some others, I put them back as well. “And this brand is shit.” I select another one from the shelf next to it. “These are better.”
Crossing her arms, she mutters something under her breath and does her best to glower at me as she follows me around the grocery store. I return the nonsensical ingredients she had put in her shopping cart before I arrived to save the day, and instead fill it with food that will actually taste good together.
“I thought today was your day off,” she remarks.
“It is.”
“I could’ve done this on my own.”
“Because you know so much about making Italian food.”
“Yes.”
“Uh-huh.” Stopping in the middle of the aisle, I level a stare full of challenge on her. “Look, do you want to give everyone food poisoning or do you want my help?”
