Page 50 of The Art of Us

Rowan barked a laugh. “Lighten up. I’m just having some fun.”

“It’s not fun for me to know your social disease status, okay?”

Rowan’s features darkened. He shoved Kal’s shoulder. “You kidding me right now?”

Kal backed up in case Rowan threw a real punch. “Not kidding. Trash-talking women is not very cool of you, bro. You need to stop. Now.”

Rowan probably would have hit Kal, except Mara’s friend Emily showed up at that exact moment and asked Rowan about something. The distraction was enough for Kal to slip away.

He turned back when he was at the door. Rowan was sitting on the couch with Tinsley and Emily. It was like a gathering for a vapid competition. Kal shook his head. Why or how those girls could want to be with this guy baffled him. Regardless, Kal was determined to make sure Rowan stayed away from Ireland.

Chapter Seventeen

Ireland

Ireland stayed late at the café. Mara had driven her there, but she was going home with Jarrod. And though he’d intended to leave early, something had happened to one of the ovens, and he wanted to fix it before the morning baking needed to be done. It was okay. She had her homework with her and her sketch pad. But she didn’t sketch. Once she was done studying, she got up and began looking around at what needed doing. She wiped down baseboards, organized the walk-in fridge, and deep cleaned the bathroom.

“Mara could sure take a lesson from you,” Jarrod said.

He meant it to be a compliment, but hearing herself compared to Mara and having Mara come out on the short end made Ireland feel uncomfortable. Like her skin was too tight.

She didn’t know how to respond, so she stayed silent.

Jarrod obviously wanted a back-and-forth conversation, so he tried again. “You have good natural skills with people too. I’m glad you’ve come to work with us.”

With us. Not for us. The way he worded it shouldn’t have made a difference, but it did. It made her feel like they were on the same team, working toward the same cause.

“I’m glad too. I honestly didn’t know I liked people until recently.”

He laughed as if she had made a joke, which was probably better if he thought of it that way. She’d been dead serious.

He was behind the oven, removing a gas filter or something.She’d heard what he said he was doing but hadn’t actually understood it. The oven door was open and his muffled voice behind it made it seem like the oven was talking to her. “Tell me about school. How are things going there?

She told him about her classes and gave him a report on where she was at gradewise, figuring that was what he really wanted to know since he’d taken her in and likely felt a responsibility there. There were no lectures or even hints of disappointment when she reported several Cs.

“You thinking about college?” Jarrod asked with a grunt as he shifted position behind the oven.

She wasn’t about to mention that she couldn’t afford it. She already owed this man and his family enough. She didn’t want him thinking she was asking for more. “I don’t really have the grades for it.”

“Have you applied anywhere?” he asked.

“No.”

“You should apply. Your grades aren’t so bad you won’t get into a state university. College is a good choice while you figure out what you really want to do with your life. It’ll give you a path you might not have considered before.”

“Sure. I’ll think about it.” There was nothing to think about. Ireland couldn’t afford it, even if she was accepted somewhere. And she wouldn’t take a handout for something as expensive as school. She was not her father.

“What are some things you like about school?”

Wow. The poor guy had to be desperate for conversation if he was going to keep circling the same topic like a buzzard checking out roadkill. “I like my art class.”

“Oh yeah?” He strained, obviously trying to reach something in an awkward, unreachable place. “Mara likes her art classes too. Mr. Wasden has created something that looks like magic there. Mara got an art scholarship to Humboldt. It’s not full ride oranything, but it kicks in a couple of thousand dollars every year, and I’m not mad at that.”

“That’s cool.” Mara hadn’t mentioned getting a scholarship, though she wouldn’t have. How many times had she insisted they weren’t friends? Why would she tell Ireland anything about her life? “What about you?” Ireland said. “Did you go to college?”

“Yep. Believe it or not, I majored in finance.” Jarrod scooted out from behind the oven with some small object in his hands. “Had an accounting job at a major firm, a company car, a pension, and a whole lotta misery.”

“You hated it?”

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