Page 81 of Never Have I Ever

“This wasn’t a discussion. The menu wasn’t up for votes. This is a favor I was doing for you. If you don’t appreciate classic dishes done at a high level, I’m not the chef for you.” When I turn toward the mirror, my hair is still damp from a hot shower, but my skin is clear, even glowing. I can give that credit to Laird and his mouth.

“You’re so rude. No wonder you don’t have regular clients. Who would put up with this behavior from the caterer?”

“I’m not a caterer, Mom,” I snap with an unintended sharp emphasis at the end. “I’m a chef. I was doing you a favor.”

“Us a favor? I think you’re being disrespectful to me and your soon-to-be stepfather.”

“Stepfather? Are you fucking kidding me?” I sound like Laird and am not upset by it.

“Poppy, stop it right now.” The abrasive tone catches me off guard. “I deserve your best for all I’ve done for you. I was there when your father wasn’t.”

“My father wasn’t there because of you.” My words slice through the phone call, and I regret them the moment they’re said. “I didn’t mean that, Mom. I’m sor—”

“Resubmit a new menu by Sunday. Thank you.” She hangs up on me.

I deserve it.

Does she sometimes? Sure. But I can’t fight uphill forever.

I stare at the blank screen of the phone, still shocked that she called me to demand I do more for her. She’s never asked once.

Hate to think it, but she and Trevor deserve each other, and neither deserves my beef Wellington.

As tough as I try to act, I’m feeling tattered, knowing I’ll never be what she wants. So why try for any more? Focus on me. Easier said than done.

A text vibrates my phone, causing me to look down. I expect to see a message from my mother, but it’s from Willie at Deer Lake. My car is ready for pickup.

Great. Now I have more to deal with.

I look into the mirror, adjusting my hair, and trying to keep myself from crying. I’m exhausted and it might be time to call it a night. The note stuck to the mirror catches my attention before I walk away. I love you. L. So few words have such a big impact. Another mystery I hope to solve one day.

The L reminds me of Laird, but I don’t want him to think I’m seeing someone else. I carefully unstick the note from the glass and cross the room to tuck it into the nightstand drawer.

Just as it lands, I glance down one more time, rereading it as if I don’t know it by heart, like the handwriting, already, and then close the drawer.

I return to the laundry with Laird still on my mind. It’s only been a few hours since we’ve parted, but I can’t help but wonder if he’s also thinking about me. With my phone in hand and Laird on my heart, I text: Want to go to Deer Lake with me?

28

Poppy

There’s no horse. And no armor in sight.

But when I trot down the last remaining stairs and see my sexy boyfriend sitting in a stunning matte black Ferrari convertible, I’m not disappointed.

“Need a ride, beautiful?”

“I sure do.” Nodding toward my apartment, I ask, “Up there, or are we talking about cars?”

Laird chuckles and hops out of the car. Coming around, he stands in front of me. With me needing two steps to come close to eye level with him, I still lift to close that gap. Taking me by the waist, he kisses me. It’s not sweet, nor is it polite. I wrap my arms around his neck and sink right into the fantasy of this man.

When we part, he says, “I missed you so fucking much, baby.” There’s no smile on his face or laughter in his voice. This man missed me as much as I missed him.

“I love you,” I say, not wanting him to ever think time apart means anything less than I’m madly in love with him. I get the smile just like I got the guy and stare into amazing eyes. “I missed you, too.”

“I’m glad.” That smile becomes a full-blown smirk, and then he asks, “You ready for Deer Lake?”

I sigh, the fun suddenly gone. “I guess. It must be done.” He takes my hand and escorts me to the car. I add, “I appreciate you driving me to pick up my car. We have hours ahead of us.”

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