Page 3 of The Love Losers

His mouth hitches up. “Sorry, I’m a man in love. I can’t hold out on my lady.”

He probably doesn’t intend for it to hit like a jab, but it does nonetheless. My father’s will has ensured that I’ll never feel that way about anyone, certainly not my wife. I wonder if he knew that’s what would happen.

I’m guessing he did, and he reveled in the thought of keeping that last bit of power for himself. If he couldn’t be there, he could still control all of us and create a rift.

Jake slaps down some money before I can tell him no, giving me a look that dares me to complain. Yes, he knows I can afford it, even without full access to my trust fund. No, he won’t let me pay for everything.

It’s his way of showing me that he’s a real friend—someone I can rely on—and I’m grateful for it.

There’s a knot in my throat as he walks out, cold gusting in before the door closes behind him.

I should leave too. My house is a hell of a lot more comfortable than this bar, with one hundred percent fewer peanut shells on the floor. I could have that scotch I was thinking about…

But my house is also so empty it feels hollow, and there’s a melancholy that’s settled inside of me, so deep it might as well gild my soul.

A smile sneaks out of me, because I’ll bet Jake would have something to say about me brooding about the melancholygilding my soul. He’d definitely drop the words “aristocratic” and “self-important.” But I still don’t leave. It’s almost like I’m rooted to the spot. Maybe because I still haven’t been able to bring myself to crack open a peanut and let the shell fall where it may.

Screw it, I decide.I’m going to do it.

I pick one of the peanuts up from the bowl, rolling it around in my fingers, feeling the rough husk against myirresistiblefingers.

There’s a voice in my head that tells me I’m being ridiculous, but I do it anyway. I crack the nut and let the shell tumble over the side of the table, coming to rest on the floor by my shoes.

And I feel…

I still feel nothing, and the disappointment is ridiculous and real, until a woman’s voice reaches my ears.

“Anthony?”

I look up and see the face of an angel—soft blue eyes fringed by long lashes, a generous mouth, and round, soft cheeks that make a man want to touch, surrounded by soft waves of golden hair. Except for a streak that’s dyed bright purple.

It’s Rosie James, the woman who witnessed my life falling apart a month and a half ago.

CHAPTER TWO

ROSIE

I came here for a peanut hookup.

If there’s one thing people should know about me, it’s that I’m a woman who knows how to find and make deals.

My roommate, Joy, is a woman in her seventh or eighth decade—I respect her too much to ask—who’s spending her retirement in the tea freelancing business. I didn’t realize therewasa tea freelancing business before I met her, but she pivoted from making tea blends for a local teahouse to throwing tea-related parties and making special, personalized blends for people. I’m here today because we were requested to throw a circus-themed tea on Saturday, and the hosts have decided that in order for it to feel legitimate, they need a shit ton of peanuts.

Obviously, we could get them from the grocery store, but if we get a deal on the nuts, then we get to keep the extra money, so you can bet your ass I’m getting a deal on the nuts.

I heard from a friend who works in the restaurant business that this bar is the place to go to get nuts for cheap, so here I am.

And hereheis.

It took me a second to recognize Anthony. The last time I saw him, he was slumped on his carpet after the first tea Joy ever catered. Due to a misunderstanding, she’d dosed the tea witha special type of mushrooms she grows in her apartment. The end result was that almost everyone present—mainly, Anthony, his mother and then-fiancée—had gotten very high, and honesty had been flung about like a weapon. A weapon wielded at Anthony, because it turned out his fiancée had been cheating on him with his friend and had also stolen three expensive necklaces from his mother. And we’d stood on the sidelines, gaping, when she left the house for good.

Oof… It hurt to watch.

But, on a personal level, that afternoon had been a kind of revelation. Because it turns out plenty of peopledowant that kind of tea. And, by ‘it turns out,’ I mean that I have helped Joy discreetly get word out about her special brews to the kind of people who might like that sort of tea party.

Discreet really is the name of the game, because I can’t afford to run into any trouble. But I have a second-sense for cops or authority figures, so I’m not worried we’ll get entrapped by a cop with a chip on their shoulder.

Business is booming. So much so that I’ve had to step back from working at my brother’s girlfriend’s bakery so I can spend more time helping Joy. Claire doesn’t mind that I bailed on her—or if she does, she hasn’t said so. My brother had probably already warned her that I’m not the kind of woman who’s about to get married to a job. Much to his regret, I might add. He would prefer to have a tracking device on all of the people he loves. Indeed, I wouldn’t be surprised if he snuck one into my footwear.

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