Page 100 of Perfect on Paper

“Right,” Brooke said, then added, questioningly, “to… Brougham’s place?”

“You know,” Brougham piped up beside me. “It’s just now occurred to me this plan involved you apologizing for a lie by lying.”

Brooke whipped around to face him, eyes wide.

Thanks, Brougham.“You’re not here for my birthday,” I said in a rush. “Ray’s outside, and she wants to talk to you. And we’ve made you guys dinner. And a show, I guess.”

Brooke blinked. “Ray’s here?”

She didn’t look mad.

I perked back up. “Yes, she wants to talk. If you do, too, you can head out and chat for as long as you want to.”

Brooke nodded, then dug through her handbag. “I, um, got you a present. Kind of.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to.” She passed me a box, and I opened it to find about two dozen sample skincare and makeup sachets. I broke into a smile. “Thank you!My stash is so low.” Next to me, Ainsley stuck her head in the box and made an excited gushing noise.

“I bet it is.” Brooke giggled. “And you’re not gonna have much cash to replace them, either, huh?”

My smile faded, and I cleared my throat. “Yeah. True.”

“I’m sorry you lost the locker. And got suspended.”

“It’s not your fault. But thanks.” I turned to Ainsley. “You staying? We have a lot of food.”

“Nah, Mom’s already ordered Chinese. Good luck, though.”

“Hey,” Brooke said as Ainsley started moving toward the door. “Those”—she pointed an accusing finger at the box Ainsley held—“are Darcy’s birthday present. I have an inventory list and I’m not afraid to cross-check it later.”

Ainsley rolled her eyes but grudgingly promised not to steal any. I couldn’t have cared less if she did, though. I was too busy drowning in heady delight that Brooke had referenced a future visit to my house. Was she one step closer to forgiving me?

Brougham and I walked Brooke most of the way outside, then Brougham showed Brooke where to go and grabbed my hand to slow me down. I glanced down at it, surprised at the unexpected contact. His hands were softer than I remembered them being. “Let’s stay out of their way. We’re awkward. We have to blend into the background as much as we can.” He steered me toward the kitchen.

“Speak for yourself, I’m not awkward.”

“No, you’re the person who viciously tore them apart out of jealousy, which is worse.”

“If you wanted to be in the background, we should’ve worn all black.”

“Yes, that would’ve done wonders to blend us into the background on this warm, sunny California evening.”

“Do you know arguing with everything people say is not cute? It’s insanely annoying.”

“Really?” He quirked an eyebrow. “I kind of thought you liked it.”

“Did you? So, you’re contradictory for my benefit?”

“Partly.”

“And what’s the other reason?”

“It’s great fun.”

I rolled my eyes as he bent to check on the oysters in the oven. “You think arguing isfun?”

He opened the oven and looked over his shoulder for an oven mitt. It was closer to me, so I grabbed it and handed itto him. His eyes sparkled before he turned back to his task. “When it’s with you? Definitely. Isn’t it for you?”

I was halfway through retrieving plates from his cabinet, and I paused, still bent over. “Well… I… it’s still annoying.”

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