Page 32 of Love is a Game

So I roll with it—and let one small, painful truth tumble out.

Chapter 11

Tuck

“When’s the funeral?” Brady hands me a double espresso as I settle at the bar.

The restaurant has a whole other vibe hours before the usual dinner rush. An air of calm permeates the still room as staff prepare table settings, vacuum, polish cutlery, and confirm bookings. I’ve timed it right to catch Brady between food prep and admin tasks.

“Couldn’t say.” I spread my hands on the gleaming bar top. “Pen’s got a list of her mom’s final wishes. She needs to find the outfit her mother wanted to be laid out in so they can prepare the body. I don’t think that’s happened yet.”

Brady exhales loudly, like that alone tells him everything he needs to know.

“So, the avoidance tactic’s back? No surprise,” he says bluntly. “Remember when she bailed to Mexico last minute instead of facing the final day in our first apartment? Or how she ghosted me when I left for LA? Hell, she didn’t even show up to her own graduation—too busy partying in Long Island.”

“Yeah. She’s an expert at dodging whatever she’s not ready to deal with,” I reply. “But pushing her to do something isn’t an option. She’ll just dig in harder.”

“How does that work in her business?” Brady deftly pumps out another coffee and leans against the counter. “Because hell, running this place—it’s a beast. You don’t deal with something, it turns into a nightmare down the line. No way I’d keep things together without Viv and the strong team we got now.”

“That’s different. Pen wouldn’t think so, but she’s actually pretty damn shrewd,” I point out. “There was a point, a year or so in, where she lost track of overheads and fell short on her loan repayments. She sat down with a ledger, went through every expense and rebooted her procedures. Whatever she applies herself to, she always figures out.”

Brady nods. “She’s a powerhouse, all right. And at least you two are good again. What was it—a whole year of not talking? After you completely screwed her over.”

I let out a short laugh, shaking my head. “C’mon. It was just business. Pen accepted that. Eventually.”

Brady folds his arms. “Tuck—you did a hostile takeover of the company she staked her whole career on. She idolized that designer.”

“Taylor Napp. Yeah, I know.” I wave a hand, brushing it off. “But look how it turned out. Pen walked away with a decent payout, started her own business. It was a win-win.”

Brady gives me a long, unimpressed look. “Win-win. Right. You forget how bitter she was? She said you didn’t give a shit about the company’s ethos, you just wanted the market share.”

I shift slightly on the barstool, restless under his scrutiny. “It was years ago.”

Brady doesn’t drop it. “So…things between you are good now?”

I meet his eyes, keeping my expression even. “Yeah.”

His brow lifts, skepticism written all over his face. “Yeah?Things are good?”

My patience thins. “I said so, didn’t I?”

I sometimes forget how protective Brady is of his friends. And if he knew how complicated things with Pen really were, I can’t predict his reaction. That time I went after the takeover, he was pissed, convinced I put business before friendships. But it wasn’tPen’sbusiness I disrupted—it was the one she worked for.Fair game.

Finally, he lifts his hands in mock surrender. “Okay. Glad to hear it.” He takes a slow sip of coffee, eyes still on me like he’s waiting for something to crack. Then: “What about Stella?”

“It’s over.”

He groans, raking a hand through his unkempt hair. “Tuck—”

“What?” I snap. “It didn’t work out. Don’t get all fucking righteous on me just because you found the love of your life. How many failed relationships did it take you to get there?”

Brady chuckles, shaking his head. “Can’t even call anything I had before a relationship. None of it feels real now. That whole bachelor life in LA, Christ, it’s like a haze. The drugs, the women, the partying. None of it meant anything, and I didn’t even know how miserable I was until it was behind me.”

He gazes into the middle distance, a smile playing his lips. “That whole struggle of chasing more excitement, more money, more sex, more highs. When you have a family you love with all you’ve got, that stuff feels so superficial.”

I snort. “Thanks for the sermon. Should I say three Hail Marys and kiss your ring?”

“You can kiss my ass.” His tone’s flat, but there’s a flicker of amusement in Brady’s eyes.

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