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“Places like this don’t change unless they have to. I see you got the poker table ready,” Chris said, making it noticeable he was going to look at anything that wasn’t Anthony.
“Yep, but we have time for that later. I’m getting us drinks.”
“Sweet.” Chris started making his way into the kitchen. “What do we have?”
I moved to block his way. “It’s a surprise. Go to the living room and let me make something for you.”
“You sure?”
I forced a smile. “Let me spoil you.”
He nodded and raised his hands in surrender. “I never say no to that.”
Anthony hurried to follow me into the kitchen and whispered, “Don’t leave me alone with him.”
“Then put the snacks in some bowls.”
I started making the drink Jay had told me to, but at the last second decided to cut down the amount of alcohol by half. It was my little rebellion, a way to prove to myself that although I had agreed to help, I wasn’t going to blindly follow instructions like a puppet.
I couldn’t help but notice how Anthony was turning the simple act of pouring snacks into bowls into the slowest task in existence. When I was done with the drink and he was done with the snacks, we stepped into the living room area where Chris was sitting on the armchair next to the couch.
“Here you go,” I said and gave him the drink.
“You’re not having any?” he asked as both Anthony and I sat on the couch.
“I already had a couple.”
He took a sip and narrowed his eyes. “It’s different, but good. What’s the secret?”
“My sperm.”
He laughed and took another sip.
I knew I should get the conversation going to diffuse the obvious tension in the air. I asked Chris about his work, and he dove right in with stories of how hard he had been working, and how well it was paying off since he had recently become a Junior Partner. He mentioned the name of one of the current partners—Mickey—and Anthony shifted uneasily in his seat. Chris seemed to realize what he’d said, and his face flushed in a heartbeat. I knew better than to pry for information, although I was damn curious.
At some point, I went to make Chris another drink, again adding less alcohol than I should have. Chris drank it all while eating his favorite Lays. Even when eating cheap snacks, he chewed with elegance, not allowing even one crumb to fall. Anthony’s silence was noticeable, but both he and Chris seemed fine with having zero direct contact. If this night was truly about us three spending time together, it would have been a resounding disaster.
“Is this the new Apple Watch?” I asked Chris.
“Yep. Melissa bought it for my birthday. I don’t like it. It just reminds me I’m not walking enough and that my sleep is crap. And why do I need to charge a watch all the time? I think I’m going to return it.”
“Oh, speaking of your birthday...” I remembered the cake and walked over to the kitchen to pull it out of the fridge, then took three spoons and got back into the living room.
Chris squinted at me. “Is this—?”
“Dark chocolate and strawberries.”
He kept gawking as I placed the cake on the table in front of him. When he raised his face to look at me, I was surprised to hear him say, “I don’t deserve this.”
“The hell you’re talking about? We always eat this for your birthday.” I handed him a spoon, and he hesitantly took it, still looking uncomfortable.
“Sorry I don’t have a candle,” I said.
“Candles are for dorks.” He dug the spoon deep into the cake. I hadn’t brought plates because we always ate cakes like impolite kids.
He slid the spoon into his mouth, closed his eyes, then sighed deeply. “So freaking good.”
I took a spoon as well and gave it a taste, acknowledging the high quality but still not crazy about the chocolate and strawberries combination.
