Page 44 of Just This Once

Maybe I had a brain tumor.

Thatwouldexplain my sudden interest in Hope.

I tried to convince myself to just stand up and go after the cute co-ed, no matter how much she didn’t rouse me, but then some interesting numbers snagged my attention on the screen, and I got sucked into the whole acquisitions and mergers world.

Half an hour later, I was the new owner of a book wholesaler on the contingency that they fire one Devon Roark first.

Say goodbye to your job, motherfucker.

I was debating on tracking him down on social media and figuring out how to throw a wrench into the gears of his personal life as well when my phone rang.

I snagged it and checked the screen, only to do a double take.

But as soon as I read the nameTrouble, my skin prickled with awareness, and the very interest I’d been searching for in every girl that walked by perked to life inside me.

“Fuck,” I muttered and set the phone back down, ignoring the call.

This was not good. Why the hell wasHopethe only thing causing the spark today? Surely her sly little glances and suggestive comments hadn’t donethatbig of a number on me. That was just stupid.

I absolutely refused to be attracted to Younger’s annoying brat of a sister.

When the phone started ringing again, I ground my teeth.

God. She was such a pain in the ass, I swear. She could ruin a guy’s day without even being present.

I glanced around, hoping and praying that I caught sight of someone who piqued my interest and induced even a smidgen of the chemical reaction I needed to pursue them. But there was no one.

“Dammit.”

The phone fell silent, and I released a relieved breath while simultaneously ignoring the niggle of disappointment because the female that my body craved was getting away. My instincts wanted to pursue her. Stupid body. Why did it always want what was the absolute worst thing for it?

Digging my flask from my laptop bag, I unscrewed the cap and took a big swig, hissing at the welcome burn it brought.

There. Better. Shaking my head to clear it, I tucked the alcohol away and decided to drop my assault on Roark for the time being—because the bastard made me think of Hope—and I called my manager at the restaurant to check in.

Our numbers were looking good. Real good. After only four months of being open, V-Eleven was doing well enough that I foresaw making a profit by the nine-month mark. All my research told me I shouldn’t expect one before the first year, and most places didn’t get in the black for three to five years, if ever. So this was good. This was very good.

Plus, stellar local reviews had already attracted the attention of some bigger-name food critics who’d put us on their list to try out.

If fortune kept up, I might have to open a few more restaurants.

After getting all the updates from the manager, I remembered Oaklynn’s complaints from the night before, and said, “Oh. I have a few names I want to add to my VIP list. I don’t want them to ever wait for reservations, okay?”

“Yes, sir,” my manager answered. “Who would you like added?”

Skipping Hudson since he was an employee, and I didn’t want him to get any kind of preferential treatment in the kitchen—or bullied—for being associated with me, I started naming my crew. “Let’s start with Thane, Chauncy, and Ezekiel Eisner. Then, Sharon and Bill Porter, Damien Archer, Oaklynn Vargas, Foster Union, Raina Bollen, Faith Woods, Keene Dugger, Alec Younger, and…” After a slight hesitation, I winced and muttered, “Hope Langston. Plus, I want any bill they accrue put on my tab.”

“Very good, sir,” I was told. “I’ll get these added to your VIP list posthaste.”

I grunted out my thanks and started to chew on my thumbnail, wondering why I’d put Hope on there. I hadn’t even added Thane’s girlfriend, and he was my best fucking friend on the planet.

Of course, I hadn’tmethis girlfriend yet, but still… She probably should’ve ranked aboveHope.

Whatever. It was done now.

I ended the call a few minutes later and glanced around the cafeteria, hoping someone—anyone—would just spark my damn attention already. But there appeared to be incredibly slim pickings today.

The phone started to ring again. I checked the caller ID and grew a semi right there in the middle of the cafeteria.

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