Page 106 of Love Me Tomorrow

I cut him off with a dip of my chin. “I’m quiet, bro, but I’m not dumb. I look for clues. I focus on order so that there’s no chance of me slipping up. And, sometimes, when no one is looking, I sayfuck it alland draw the world as I see it. No judgment. No fear. No waiting for someone to lean over my shoulder and tell me that the colors don’t match or that I’ve screwed the whole thing up.”

At my house, I have an entire closet worth of oil paintings that might as well be strung up next to a sign that reads,Owen Harvey Doesn’t Care About Your Opinions. I do what I want. I paint how I want. I see the world how I want, without trying to fit into the stereotypical boxes that society hands out like candy corn on Halloween.

My twin falls back in his seat, shoulders slouched. “Why are you tellin’ me this now? If you’ve kept it a secret for all these years, why bother coming clean?”

Instinctively, my gaze flicks to where Savannah took off with Lizzie and Dufrene. Inhaling deeply, I confess, “I told Savannah, once, that chasing shadows doesn’t leave much room to find the light. So when she found out about . . . about me, it was by accident.” I meet my twin’s eyes, a color that I know to be identical to my own. Black, one of the few colors that doesn’t try to play tricks on me, no matter the shade—unless, of course, another color is masquerading as it, just for shits and giggles.Lucky me.“She called me out for being a hypocrite, then told me I was doing a disservice to our relationship by not being open with you.” I breathe in, holding the air in my lungs, then let it all out. “She was right. I can’t rewrite Mom and Dad’s decision—they did it to protect me, I know that—but me and you, we’ve got a whole life in front of us still. No secrets.”

Gage is quiet for a moment. Then, “I’m pissed I was left out of the loop and hurt that y’all all felt like I couldn’t be trusted. That said, I’ll get over it.”

“That’s . . .” I swallow, thickly. “That’s good.”

“But I’m telling you right now, this has opened the field to me roasting you for life. When you buy a pillow for one of your rentals, I’m gonna swap it with a different one, just to see if you notice. When you ask me to go shopping with you the next time—which now makessomuch sense—because you claim you have awful taste, I’m going to lead you to the most horrendous shit you will ever find and smile with glee when you pay for all of it and Savannah looks at you like you’ve lost your mind.”

Laughing roughly, I grumble, “Fucking bastard.”

“You owe me,” Gage says, shrugging, “for thirty-seven years. When we’re seventy-four, I’ll reconsider and possibly leave you alone.”

“Take a year off—our birthday isn’t until next month.”

“Speaking of, joint red birthday cakes.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re enjoying the shit out of this, aren’t you?”

Gage drains his wine. “I combat hurt feelings with misplaced humor, what can I say?”

“How the hell does Lizzie put up with you?”

“By shutting me up in other, more exciting ways that you will never, ever hear about.” My twin perks up, his gaze sweeping the dining room. “Speaking of, is that why Savannah took Lizzie off to that Hummingbird Room?”

“She wanted to give us time to talk.”

“That’s just a little evil.” Looking impressed, he points a finger at me. “Get me a tour of that room and we’ll call it even. Seventy-three, and I’m not budging on that.”

I know there’ll be more conversations to come, more questions from my twin once the information really sinks in—the guy is a cop through and through, and leaves no stone unturned—but I soak up the brotherly camaraderie, knowing that we’ll be okay. “Love you, bro,” I tell him.

He raises his empty wineglass in a toast. “Love you back. Now, tell me, what color shirt am I wearing?”

I throw my head back with a laugh.

He’s an asshole, but he’s my asshole, and while we wait for Savannah and Lizzie to make their way back to us, I ham it up and give him hell.

“Pink,” I lie, “the same color as your puke that time we hit up Bourbon when we were nineteen and you swore you could handle drinking Pepto-Bismol before we hit up the bars. Turns out you couldn’t. Turns out, we’re still banned from that bar for life.”

I wouldn’t want to be banned with anyone else.

31

Savannah

Bright and early on Monday morning, I set the coffee tray down on Georgie’s desk and grab hers out of the mix. I place it by her right hand, where she’s typing away on her computer. “I’m going to be stepping down.”

Reaching for the Styrofoam cup, Georgie doesn’t even bat an eye. “Really? No more stilettos, just like that?”

I look down at my teal pumps. They’re bright and cheery, and truthfully, I put them on in the hope that they’d give me a boost of confidence for this morning’s shakedown. I don’t want to be ERRG’s Vice President. I don’t want to manage the construction of a hotel. I don’t want to do any of the mind-numbing work that I’ve done foryears.

Owen wasn’t wrong in calling me out at Rose & Thorn.

Once upon a time, working in this world did make me happy. I loved telling people our family’s history—the RosesareNew Orleans. Not only is Rose & Thorn the oldest operating restaurant in the city, but we did so during times of complete upheaval. Reconstruction, and then, later on, during the Civil Rights Movement. We were one of the few establishments to get away with serving booze during Prohibition. Nobody is aware ofanyof this because we’ve been so focused on growing more, growing bigger, being betterthan all of our competitors.

---