Page 99 of Just Act Natural

“A famous climber. He got injured two years ago, and then sort of fell off the face of the earth.”

Grant goes on about this climber guy, but the wind shifts, blowing smells from the food trucks over to us. The strong odor of hot dogs and barbecued meats makes my stomach clench. Maybe things are worse than I thought.

“We need to go,” I say, interrupting him.

“Bad?” he asks, already helping me move away from the festival.

“Very.”

We make slow time up the block toward my apartment. I’m as patriotic as the next girl, but I just want this day to be over already. Unfortunately, it’s got yet another fun surprise up its sleeve.

Josh, of course. He looks put together as always, fashionable and handsome and cold. He slows in the middle of the sidewalk, not caring that people have to shift to walk around him. They’re beneath his notice, so their inconvenience doesn’t matter.

Why? Why did I ever fall for him? Was I really so caught up in his looks and the status symbol of being with Seattle’s golden boy tech guru? There was more, once. In the beginning, he wielded charisma and confidence like a master. He drew me into his circle, and I was only too happy to be there. But after his flattery turned to criticisms, it became impossible to keep up with his expectations. And now that I’ve seen through him, he has nothing but contempt for me.

My stomach churns harder as he strolls the last few feet to us.

“I was hoping to run into you two.” He wears false friendliness so easily it’s disgusting. “I’ve been thinking about buying interest in a retail business. Diversify a little. Know of anything I could dabble in?”

It’s his way of letting us know he’s researched Grant’sfamily business. He’s probably dug through every scrap of information available to the public, looking for something to exploit. Grant doesn’t take the bait, so Josh keeps going.

“It would have to be publicly traded to be worth my time. Anything else is just a hobby business.” He grins as though he’s offered us valuable advice instead of a direct insult. “Right, Irwin?”

Maybe it’s the fever affecting my brain or maybe I am just completely done with Josh Brandt, but he found my limit and pushed me over.

“You can stop the games. We don’t care what you dabble in. You’re a conceited, thoughtless jerk who isn’t worth Grant’s time. And you lost the right tomytime when you cheated on me.” I stand as straight as I can when I would really rather double over. “You are beneath us.”

That speech would feel a whole lot more satisfying if my stomach wasn’t capsizing.

His sleek smile slips. “Lilabird?—”

I lurch a step closer to him. “Never call me that again. I’ve always hated that nickname. If you call me that again, I’ll…I’ll…”

It’s too late. I don’t have time to run, turn, or even move. My stomach heaves, and I throw up right on his shoes.

It’s disgusting, and I have to be an absolute wreck to do something so humiliating in broad daylight on a public street, but I couldn’t stop if I tried. The crowd parts around us, but there’s nothing I can do about it now.

Two very telling things happen at the same time: Josh dances back several paces to try to escape the splash zone, and Grant holds onto my arm and rubs my back making sympathetic sounds.

He is an angel in human form. A human angel, cinnamon roll, mountain man.

“These are Tom Ford, Lila!” Josh doesn’t shout, but his low-level seething is hostile enough. “Calf leather! You idiot! They’re ruined.”

Grant straightens, still holding me upright. “If you say one more word to her, more than just your shoes will get ruined today.”

Okay.Deadlyhuman angel, cinnamon roll, mountain man.

Josh’s mouth twists like he’s trying to figure out how a fist fight would affect his company’s stock price. Or maybe he’s trying to figure out how losing the fight would affect his face. Eventually, he skirts past us, straightening his shirt and muttering about his shoes.

My stomach picks that moment to make a truly terrible sound. Fair to say, my digestive system has thrown me under the bus and then backed over me today. Maybe it’s retaliation for all the trail rations I had on the hike.

“Okay, that’s it, princess.” Grant’s voice is sweet and soft again. “Let’s go.”

I don’t resist. “I need to call somebody to clean that up.”

It’s right on the sidewalk and everything. People move around it, watching me like they expect another show. Whatever good opinion people in Sunshine had of me, I just vomited all over it.

“Text them if you need to, but we’re getting you home.”

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