Page 38 of Sweet Rivals

“To get to me,” Jared said.

“That’s a bit egotistical of you, brother,” Joel said.

Jared just glared in his direction before looking back at me. If there was any doubt about joining Joel, his insistence that Joel was using me clinched my desire to go.

“Goodnight, Jared,” I said, turning away from him. I felt his gaze heavy on the exposed skin between my shoulder blades. I itched to turn around and see his expression, but I forced myself to Joel’s car.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“So, what’s the deal with you and Jared?” I asked Joel once we had pulled way.

He drove a little fast for my liking through the sleepy streets of my small town where too many beach goers walked lazily through traffic without any concern for cars. The car was the most luxurious thing I’d ever been in. I didn’t have a car, and my parents drove cars made in the 2010s that required lots of finagling just to charge my phone. Joel’s was all maroon leather and high-tech screens that my fingers longed to touch.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said, eyes straight ahead.

“Wow, that's some evading skills. Do they teach you that in fancy chef school?” I ask.

He cracked a smile. “I didn’t go to cooking school. I’m sure you think I am some fancy hot shot, but I grew up in a family kitchen too,” he said. “We aren’t that different.”

I suspected from the way Jared talked that wasn’t entirely true, but I let it slide. I’m sure that was the company line. Regardless, he and I were nothing alike, as evidenced by his suit and car.

We only drove about five minutes to the most high-scale restaurant Cape Shore had to offer. I couldn’t help but think we definitely could have walked. Joel didn’t come off as the walking type though.

Somewhere in the dark recesses of my brain, a voice reminded me that Jared had walked to my place today. It didn’t mean anything. He was my rival. Not Joel. Joel was on my side. He could be the key to that bakery being mine, where it rightfully belonged. I ignored the voice trying to make me doubt that point. I had put in my time. I knew Cape Shore. I deserved a bakery of my own way more than Jared. He was just another greedy corporate guy trying to line his pockets by cornering every available market. Even if it didn’t seem that way on the surface.

Joel pulled under the rustic portico of the most expensive restaurant in town and handed the car off to the valet. The second we stepped inside, all eyes landed on Joel. Most people knew the Wallace family from their stint in various tabloids, but a restaurant like this would be doubly excited to have him grace them with his presence. It left my skin crawling to be both the center of attention and completely invisible at the same time. Especially because I knew most of the waiters.

“This is interesting,” I said when we were seated in a booth toward the back after Joel made a point of shaking hands and snapping pictures with everyone who approached. The difference between Joel and his brother was stark. Somehow, Jared had the ability to go mostly unnoticed. He had a calm, casual vibe, while Joel leaned full into the rich, celebrity thing.

“You get used to it. I don’t love it, but it’s part of the job,” he said.

A waitress with a wide, toothy smile stepped up to us and offered a complimentary bottle of wine before lingering a little too long. I wasn’t sure if I believed Joel’s humility. He seemed to lap up the attention, but maybe he was just better at the act than Jared. Why did I keep comparing them? I was allowed to enjoy this dinner with Joel without thinking about Jared every two seconds.

“How are things going in the bakery?” he asked when the waitress finally took the hint.

“There haven’t been any new revelations since early today,” I said.

“It’s nice of you to help out my brother,” he said.

“Well, my mom wouldn’t hear otherwise. She is pretty starstruck. Her head might explode if she knew I was out to dinner with you.”

“Maybe we will have to make a stop at your restaurant so I can see that firsthand,” he said with a laugh.

“No, you definitely don’t want that,” I said, unfolding my menu and hiding behind it. I wish I hadn’t told him about my mom.

I had only ever been to the Ocean Grill three times: on my parents' twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, my grandmother's ninetieth birthday, and my eighteenth. Surprisingly, we didn’t eat out much in my family, and when we did, it tended toward fast casual. Not that we didn’t have the money for fancier places, we just weren’t the type. When I saw the prices, I worried about the awkward moment when the bill came. I would offer to pay, but would he accept or insist on dropping his credit card?

The waitress came back quickly with the same smile that only encompassed Joel. “Any questions about the menu?”

“We’ll get an order of the oysters and steamed clams to start,” he said, folding his menu and passing it to the waitress.

I could feel my cheeks warming at this unexpected awkwardness. If I worried that arguing about the check would be bad, having him order for us was terrible. All I could do was plaster on a smile and try to appreciate the nice appetizers coming my way.

“I hope you don’t mind.” He leaned close to me when he spoke as if he were telling me a secret. “I wasn’t sure if you would feel comfortable getting whatever you wanted, so I figured I would just make it happen.” His smile was warm and felt genuine and left me flustered. Somehow, I was both grateful and offended at the same time.

“How is Jared doing with all of this, do you think?” Joel asked.

“I have no idea. Jared and I don’t have the best communication,” I said.

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