Page 133 of Rush of Jealousy

“Oh no, does it have anything to do with the stock market?” I don’t know much about the market, but figure most businesspeople do, and a lot of their daily moods coincide with the day’s stock exchange.

“I lost a million today, but that is just what happens when you gamble with a few side projects.”

“A million?” I ask, coughing from my drink going down the wrong pipe.

Graham sits up in his seat. “Are you okay?”

I nod and wave him on to continue.

“Not much to say, really. I’ll move some things around with my investments and probably gain back the money in a day or so. It’s just a risk you take when you dabble in the European and Chinese markets as well.”

Our food arrives and takes up nearly the entire table. Everything looks fresh. Graham hands me a plate, and I fill mine up with items from each serving tray. He ordered two different types of soup, and I start by eating half of the asparagus bisque. Graham digs in on the beef barley.

“How did your day go?” he asks, taking a bite of olive oil bread while handing me a piece.

It is divine, and I can tell the oil is not the cheap kind I buy at the grocery store. “I got my assessment back from Monday.”

“And?”

“I got an A.”

“Awesome, baby. That is great.”

I have never really shared my grades with anyone while attending River Valley—unless someone was sitting beside me and was being nosy. I never wanted to seem like I was bragging or comparing, so I usually just kept things to myself. But Graham isn’t comparing himself to me. We are not in competition with each other. So, I find it oddly refreshing to have someone to share these small accomplishments with.

We eat and drink and laugh over stupid things we have done in the past. Tears fill my eyes as I can’t keep my emotions in check to get my words out. “I can’t believe you dressed up in drag for a dare to get free drinks in college. I guess it’s true that women rule the world of getting things for free.”

“I can’t believe you lost your suit during the polar bear plunge. What is this event anyway? Never heard of it.”

“It’s where you jump into the river in the winter at Poet’s Beach near the bridge and raise money for a charity. They have the event all over the nation—anywhere there is a decent amount of water.”

“And this can’t be done in the summer?”

I shake my head and laugh. “No, then you would never find sponsors to donate money for the cause.”

“Seems unnecessarily horrible.”

“I must have shivered so much that the suit just fell off my body. Claire was laughing so hard at me from the shore and was making me beg for her to bring me a towel to conceal myself.”

“You two really are bad influences on each other.”

“Yeah, we really are.”

“What other trouble have the two of you gotten into?”

“She almost had me get my belly button pierced. But apparently tattoo and piercing parlors do not work on drunk customers.”

“Well, that’s at least reassuring,” he mutters, highly amused by this topic of conversation.

“We were definitely stumbling when we entered some shady place near campus after our drinking game went wrong.”

He shakes his head at me and takes a long drag from his beer bottle. “I have checked pretty thoroughly, and notice you don’t have any piercings,” he says with a sexy smirk.

“No. None. Not even my ears. The closest I came to putting a hole into my body was that time with Claire.”

“Why the avoidance while sober?” he probes.

“Surprisingly, after the car accident, I developed an irrational fear of pain.” I frown and look down at my hands. “Which is weird that I ever resorted to cutting in the first place.”

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